#new homes riverside

[dixons-sunshine]

Firecracker | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Abandoned by the group you had taken with you on your scavenging trip, you were forced to find your way back to Alexandria in your injured, exhausted state. However, upon finding yourself back in your new home, you came to realize that nobody had made an attempt to go looking for you in your absence—or so you thought. All it took was for you to snap and find yourself in the infirmary with your partner for you to discover how wrong you were.

Genre: Hurt to comfort.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of near death experiences, blood, injuries.

Word count: 3k.

A/N: Requested by @caseylicious. Holy crap, I am incredibly sorry it took me three months to get to this. I hope this is somewhat okay to make up for the long wait!

One step. You’re closer to Alexandria.

Another step. You’re closer to your group.

Another step. You’re closer to getting some help.

Another step. You’re closer to being able to collapse into your partner’s arms.

One more step. You’re closer to being safe again.

That was the mantra you kept repeating in your head. It was the only thing that kept you going. It was the only thing that kept you on your feet instead of accepting defeat and collapsing to the ground. It was the only thing keeping you sane as your feet dragged against the hard concrete of the road you were walking on to get back to your home, to get back to your family and the love of your life.

You highly regretted agreeing to go out on that particular run. Everything had gone wrong since the moment you stepped foot outside of the gated walls of the community you were relatively new to. The car had broken down halfway towards the building you were meant to go check out, you ran out of ammo when you and the group you had taken with you encountered over three dozen walkers, and the group had split when you injured your leg and couldn’t run anymore, leaving you to fend for yourself.

You had to take on the small herd alone, further injuring yourself in the hard, gruesome process. You had passed out by a riverside after managing to escape, and woke up after who knows how long. It could’ve been a few hours, or it could’ve been a few days. You were extremely starved, slightly dehydrated, and you were on the brink of becoming delirious. You desperately needed help. Your watch Daryl had gotten for you could at least let you know what time it was, and you were certain that at least a day had passed.

So why had nobody tried to look for you yet? You were sure that it the archer had tracked you, he would’ve found you already. So why hadn’t you seen anyone yet? However, you tried not to dwell on it. Maybe your watch was broken. Maybe only a few hours had passed, and your disappearance was yet to be a cause of concern. Maybe you were overthinking things. That was a probable possibility.

The Alexandrian safe zone’s looming gates came into your view, and you almost started crying tears of relief. You had never been as happy to see gates as much as at that moment. Those gates meant safety. Those gates meant safety. Those gates meant you were going to see your found family. Those gates meant that you would be able to see Daryl. Those gates meant home, in more ways than one.

One step. The gates are only a few feet away.

Another step. You’d be able to get some answers soon.

Another step. You were almost to your family.

Another step. You were almost in your partner’s arms.

One more step. You were almost safe.

One final step, and you were right in front of the Alexandrian gates. You swayed slightly as you came to a stop, the blood you were steadily losing from a deep wound in your side you had acquired on your venture back to the safe zone making you feel woozy. However, you refused to surrender to the feeling of unconscious that tugged at the back of your eyes. You were a mere gate away from being able to get the help you needed. You’d be damned if you gave up now.

“Open the gates.” What was meant to be a loud call instead turned out to be a raspy, gruff whisper. You cleared your throat and tried once more, this time luckily succeeding in your quest. “Open the gates!”

You looked up when you heard a gasp, locking eyes with none other than one of your closest friends—Maggie Rhee. “Oh my god, Y/N!” She hurried over to peer down towards someone on the other side, someone you couldn’t see. “It’s Y/N! Open the gates!”

You could hear the sound of rushing and rustling, and then the gates were being pushed open by Nicolas—one of the people who had been in your run crew and had left you for dead. You glared daggers at him as you limped your way into the safe zone, locking eyes with multiple inhabitants, including some members of your found family: Sasha, Tara, Maggie, Carol, Eugene—although Eugene’s friendship status with you varied from moment to moment—and Father Gabriel, although he was still a member of the group you were reluctant to accept.

In the midst of those few members of your group, however, stood Deanna Monroe, the leader of the safe zone. Her expression showed relief, but also profound disappointment, though you could see that last bit was not directed towards you; she was looking towards her son, Aiden, who had also been part of the group that had abandoned you. However, she stepped forward and sent you a warm smile. “We are so glad to see you’re okay. We had been under the impression that you were dead. We were told that the walkers had gotten to you two days ago.”

“Two days?” you asked incredulously. Surely your ears were deceiving you. There was no way that two days had passed. There was no way. If it had indeed been two days, your family would’ve been looking for you, would they not? You certainly would have been looking for them had one of your friends been missing for forty eight hours. That’s just how things was. They would not leave you like that. They just wouldn’t. Not your family.

You opened your mouth to voice your disbelief, but your words fell short when you locked eyes with none other than the man you loved more than anything else on the planet—Daryl Dixon. His cerulean-coloured eyes locked with your own, and he exhibited clear signs of relief and happiness. However, the same could not be said for you. Your eyes steadily wandered to the other members of your group who stepped up behind the crossbow-wielding archer, and the anger that had been festering since you had been abandoned by your run crew begged to be released as realization dawned on you; none of them had gone to look for you. They hadn’t even made an effort to do so. You could’ve been dead in a ditch and they wouldn’t have known. Did you truly mean so little to them, to your own partner, that they couldn’t have been bothered to go look for you?

You scoffed in disbelief, taking a step back as your hazy mind tried to wrap around the knowledge you had stumbled upon. “You’re all here,” you stated in an angry whisper, but your voice soon raised to a shout. “You’re all here! You’re all fucking here!” You stumbled slightly, your mind still woozy from the blood loss, but that pivotal piece of information—that you were losing blood—had yet to register in your mind. “You’re all here!”

“Sunshine—” Daryl began in a soft tone of voice, taking a step towards you in the hopes to calm you down. However, you were seeing red, and all rational thoughts flew out the window.

“No!” you exclaimed in anger, taking a step away from him. “I’ve been gone for two days, and none of you went looking for me? What the fuck?! Do I really mean that little to you all?”

To say your found family was taken aback would be the understatement of the century. None of them knew how to even attempt to defuse the situation. More often than not, the group teased you and Daryl for being able to make your relationship work when the two of you were complete polar opposites of one another. You were a bubbly, talkative, sunshiny person who preferred to avoid conflict unless absolutely necessary. You never snapped, never raised your voice. You were understanding, and always attempted to keep the fighting and raised voices in the group to a minimum. You were a firecracker, but in the most positive way humanly possible.

With that image of your personality painted into their brains, it was no wonder they were so taken aback by your sudden outburst, unwilling to let your partner attempt to explain his part of the story. Your title of ‘firecracker’ had officially taken on its negative connotation, although nobody could blame you for your outburst.

The rest of the Alexandrians looked at the encounter in silence, well aware of the fact that they had no right to jump into a conversation like that. You and your group hadn’t even been there a full month. They knew nothing about you. It was best if they steered clear for the time being. Even Deanna could sense that, the leader taking a step back, sending her son a pointed look.

Daryl’s expression twisted into one of surprise and slight hurt. You had never snapped before, and especially never at him. “Sunshine, we—” There was a perfectly good explanation for what was going on. He wanted to explain it to you, but apparently, you would not allow him to do so.

“I could’ve been dead!” You began, frustration evident in your shaky voice. More blood pooled from the wound in your side, and it brought the archer’s attention to it. He tried to step forward, to alert you of your predicament and to get you some help immediately, but you weren’t done with your rant just yet. “I could’ve... I...” you trailed off, black spots beginning to coat your vision. There it was. The effects of your blood loss were finally in full swing, and your exertion from your frustration hadn’t helped at all. “I... Daryl...”

The last thing you remembered before the darkness consumed you was your partner rushing forward as your knees gave out beneath you, his arms catching you before you could reach the ground. His mouth had moved, presumably calling for help as a flurry of people—your found family—sprung into action. Your eyes had trailed over your partner’s rugged, handsome features, burning the image of his face into your mind. If you died, he was the final thing you wanted to see before you succumbed death.

And then... Darkness.

A throbbing, dull ache in your head, leg and side was what you awoke to. For the second time in a span of a few days, you had collapsed from your injuries and awoke with little recollection of what had happened for a few seconds. However, as your mind started to catch up with you, the memories flooded into your brain at a relentless pace, forcing you to screw your eyes shut at the pain, both physical and emotional.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flew open, and you lolled your head to the side. You locked eyes with your partner, and you could see the exhaustion that threatened to consume him. On closer inspection, you could clearly see the dark circles under his eyes, indicating he had gotten little rest, if any at all. His skin was slightly paler than usual, and as your eyes drifted down, you could see the small bandage that covered a wound that hadn’t been there when you had first reunited with him at the gates of the safe zone. That particular bandage signified that he had given somebody a blood transfusion, and given your current state, you didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out who he had given it to. He had given it to you.

With the knowledge that your partner had given you his blood despite your earlier outburst, shame flooded through your body. “I’m sorry,” were the first words you uttered. You truly were sorry. Although your prior frustrations hadn’t been unjustified, you knew there were far better ways to have gone about it. Snapping and yelling at them hadn’t helped anyone, least of all yourself.

Daryl frowned slightly. He leaned forward in the chair that he sat upon, his ocean-coloured eyes trailing over your face, observing you as you pushed yourself up into a seated position. “What? Ya have nothin’ to be sorry for.”

You shook your head, swallowing at the lump that formed in your throat. You blinked away the tears that formed and threatened to fall. “I do. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’m so sorry.”

Daryl gave you a weak smile. He slowly reached for your hand, and took it in his when you made no effort to yank it away. “Ya had every right to be mad. Ya were alone out there for days and thought nobody were gon’ look for ya. Hell, if it were me, I would’a been pissed.”

You frowned slightly at his comment. “Thought nobody was gonna look for me? What do you mean?”

Daryl inhaled deeply in an attempt to gather his racing thoughts. Subconsciously, he gently rubbed his thumb across your bruised knuckles, before sighing and looking up to gaze into your eyes. “When that group ya went out with came back, we all saw that ya weren’t with ‘em. Bastards told us that they weren’t sure if ya were dead, but they saw the walkers surround ya. We wanted to go out and look for ya, but that Aiden guy told Deanna that the herd was big and awfully close to Alexandria, so she wouldn’t let nobody leave. I saw them with yer gun, though. S’how I knew they were lyin’ when they told us they had tried to save ya.”

Daryl stopped for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “We were plannin’ on leavin’ and lookin’ for ya anyway, but it was damn near impossible to sneak past them guards she had patrollin’ the place. I tried to, though. I really did, but them guards caught me and I was practically placed under witness protection and couldn’t do nothin’ without someone reportin’ it back to Deanna. We had to come up with a solid plan first, and we did. We were gon’ look for ya today. Carol was distractin’ Olivia so that we could get our weapons from the armory, and Maggie had switched places with the guy on watch so that she could let us out. We were ‘bout to leave when we heard Maggie yellin’ that ya were back. And then, well... The rest s’history.”

If you felt ashamed at your outburst before, it certainly did not compare to the amount of embarrassment you felt at that moment. You had been out of line. Your outburst was immensely unnecessary. If you had just listened before jumping to conclusions, things would have been different. You were certain that your found family was angered, and you had no idea how to even begin to make it up to them. You had accused them of not caring, something you knew was untruthful. They cared about you a lot, and had showed it countless times before.

You messed up, and you didn’t know how to make it right.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out so quietly that had Daryl not been in close proximity to you, he would have missed it. “I’m so sorry.” You knew that apologies could not always fix everything, but you didn’t know where else to start. You just prayed to whatever higher entity was listening that it was enough.

The archer shook his head and brought your hand up to his lips, tenderly kissing the broken skin of your knuckles. “No need to apologize. None’a us blame ya.” Cleverly sensing that his words had little effect reassuring you and you were in desperate need of something to cheer you up, Daryl sent you a playful smile. “‘Sides, if anythin’, it was a blessin’ in disguise. Yer outburst scared the livin’ shit outta Eugene. Pretty sure he ain’t gon’ be botherin’ ya no more.”

You let out a small laugh. “Thank god. I was beginning to think I’d need to file a restraining order,” you joked. Despite popular belief amongst your group, Eugene’s ‘flirtations’ did not bother you. The little crush he harboured on you hadn’t exceeded any of your boundaries, and you highly doubted it ever would. He was harmless.

Daryl chuckled, before his expression turned serious again. “Seriously, though. Dun’ blame yerself for snappin’. It happens. Ya were worse for wear and felt abandoned. If ya had gone and hugged each’a us with no hard feelin’s without hearin’ our side’a the story, I would’a had to run for the hills ‘cause that’s psychopath behaviour.”

You laughed lightly at his words. However, your laugh soon morphed into a cough, your body wracking from the pressure. Daryl stood up from the chair and sat next to you on the bed, his big, calloused hands rubbing soothing circles over your back. When your coughing fit subsided, you slowly leaned into your partner’s side. Daryl instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pressing a soft, tender kiss on the top of your head.

“M’real glad yer safe,” he murmured into your hair. “Would’a killed those bastards if ya were actually dead.”

“Believe me, I’m still gonna kill them. They left me for dead. They don’t deserve any mercy.” A few beats of silence passed until you spoke up again. “Guess I should start working on my apology for the rest of our people, huh?”

“Nah. What ya need’a do s’rest. Get yer strength up so that ya can help me kick those assholes’ rear ends into next Tuesday. They understand yer frustrations. Ya really have nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” He placed another kiss to your head, before settling back against the pillows, allowing you to get comfortable against his chest. “Now try and get some sleep. Everybody’s eager to see ya and make sure yer alright. Keep tellin’ me to stop hoggin’ all’a yer attention.”

You giggled softly and nuzzled your face into his chest, turning yourself in a way to keep the pressure off of your wounded side. Your worries hadn’t evaporated, and you still didn’t know how you would be able to make it up to your family, but in the arms of the man you loved,—the man that hadn’t abandoned you and didn’t hate you for unfairly yelling at him—your worries quieted, making it possible to succumb to the alluring darkness that promised rest.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was the press of Daryl’s lips against your head, and his whispered words. “I love ya, my lil’ firecracker. Nothin’, not even a bad mood, will ever change that.”

[oonajaeadira]

That Awoooo Inside You, Pt. 2

Fandom: The Wild Robot / Fink the Fox

Pairing: Fink <3s OFC fox Farrah

Rating: G all the way, don’t worry. This is keeping in the world and disgustingly wholesome. Prolly too clean for tumbles 😆

Warnings: None. It’s for cuteness and for heart.

Summary: After the events of The Wild Robot, a new resident joins the island. She’s a little withdrawn and Fink finds out why.

A/N: This chapter is mainly for @brandylyn because it means so much to me that she wants to read a simple story about a little yearning fox.

PART 1

For the past many mornings Fink had woken to an empty hut, the little heap of leaves near the door where Farrah preferred to sleep flattened and empty. As much as he knew he could just track her by scent, it wasn’t necessary anymore. He knew where she was.

And his heart sank a little. 

He’d been hoping for the day when he’d wake to find her still sleeping, at peace, or the night where she’d fall asleep before him, comfortable in her new home. But her ears always remained alert, feigning sleep into the night, and she was gone by first light.

Not that she wouldn’t come back to join him for meals or to play fast-as-the-wind with the possum kids. But he supposed she went to the cove in the morning for the same reason she slept near the door.

Hoping to catch a whiff of home.

There’d been two full moons since Farrah came to the island and she adjusted fast to their strange way of life. She wasn’t as hard driven by hunger as some of the other animals and gained from their talks that was because food had been more scarce where she was from and she was patient when it came to waiting for meals. Fish and shellfish had already been a big part of her diet. 

So she must have come from another island…but Fink couldn’t be sure. Anytime he’d ask more about it, she’d change the subject or go quiet. And she was very very good at being quiet. Probably had to learn that with fur like hers. It’s a wonder she made it to maturity without proper camouflage. Silence and speed would be her only options.

Except when she laughed. She laughed loud and high, almost a cry when she was really going. Farrah was easy to amuse and he made sure to do so whenever he had the chance. He wanted to see her happy and settled here. With him.

And he just liked to hear her laugh. Nobody laughed at his jokes like she did.

“That is the look of a lovelorn fox,” Paddler dryly declared one day, turning away to scrape away at a massive trunk with his crooked incisors. Fink had just cracked a joke at a squirrel’s expense–and not a clever one either, something about the size of nuts–and Farrah had laughed before bounding off after a butterfly. The beaver’s remark made Fink realize that he was wearing a dopey grin and he shook it off, but not before Paddler added, “Be direct. Build her a dam to show how you feel.”

“I’m not going to give her a dam.”

“But I’m telling you, fine fellow. We may be swimming among the trees as a pike in the waters of the river, yet the ladies still love a good bit of worked wood. You have that home–a good design, said because, as you will remember it is mine–but a little riverside palace of her own? Eh? What a treat.”

Fink rolled his eyes, playing cavalier. “It’s not like that. We’re–” over in the near clearing, Farrah’s fur sparkled white in the sinking sun, her head tilting side to side as she watched two butterflies dancing, trying to pick up on their whispers, quiet and still….and beautiful. “--friends.”

“Ha!” Paddler choked on a laugh. “You fool no one, sir. Just give her a treasure and be done with it. I’m telling you a dam always does the job, but I suppose you must do as your ilk do.” 

“Is that why there's no Mrs. Paddler?”

“Oh ho! I have had my salacious share of affairs, I assure you. My dams are well-given and wide spread. I am focusing on other projects at the moment,” he boasted with a grand gesture towards his gnarled tree, and turned back to his gnawing.

But Fink hadn’t let the beaver’s advice sift completely to the background and after a particularly good day of digging holes for grubs and laying in the sun-warmed grass, it was Farrah herself that completed the thought.

“Okay. You get to take one feature from any other animal and add it to your own. What are you stealing?” Fink rolled on his back, belly to the sun, black paws bent and hanging lazily.

“Uhhhhh,” she sighed. “Mayyyyybe racoon paws?”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ugh. Really? You’d lose your ability to run fast.”

“Yeah, but where am I gonna run here?” she smiled, teasing, and his tail twitched hopefully. “And I bet they’re useful for arranging bedding and…holding fish…and…oh! I bet urchins would be so much easier to crack open, no more getting spines in my jowls…”

“Wait!” He flipped to his stomach then, his claws digging in the dirt, eager to run, eager to share the idea that had just come to him, ready to bound and yip but controlling himself–she was skittish if he was too bouncy–”You like urchins??”

“Of course. Do they live here? I’ve never found any.”

“Come on. I gotta show you something,” and he took off running with the breeze at his back, which carried the information that she was following and keeping up with him as he made his way through the trees and down the sloping landscape to the shore. 

Running straight for the goose flats, he turned abruptly at the shoreline and went crashing though some bushes until they came to a bluff wall. But instead of coming to a halt, Fink took a leap, knowing which ledges were wide enough to hold him, and which led out to the sea. From there, he was able to round the corner to a small cove. With the tide out, it was a completely isolated beach, not even a sand bird or seagull.

“Welcome to the northern most point of the island,” he explained with a sweep of the paw. “When I don’t wanna dig clams to a soundtrack of honks, I come out here. The tide leaves little treats too. Cockles, a dead fish, sometimes an eel. Sometimes though–” he scanned the stretch of beach, his heart skipping at the sight of a dark little blob, “--there! Urchin!”

Dashing over, he sniffed at it and, finding it still fresh, held it down with one paw and expertly cracked its underside open with his teeth. Then he sat back high and proper, very proud of himself, and offered the feast to her with a flourish. “Madame.” Surely this would be it. This cove was his little secret, his treasure to give her. And serving up delicacies with humor? He just wanted to make her smile…

But Farrah had stopped nearby, distracted, her strange eyes–one light, one dark–searching the sea, her nose activated, taking in the air.

“Uh…Farrah?” Snapping to, she closed the distance, and Fink cocked his head. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, of course. I just caught a whiff of–” she fought off a glance to the sea. “It doesn’t matter. Oh wow! The urchins are huge here!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “It’s a specialty here. You’re gonna love the recipe. This one’s for you. Dig in.” As she did, Fink turned fully toward the water and scanned the horizon, trying to see what had caught her attention but found no scents or sights out of the ordinary. “This place is a little secret of mine, but you’re welcome to it anytime.”

“It’s nice here. Quiet.” She licked her jowls, taking in the last morsels of the delicacy. He still hadn’t turned from the sea and just as he meant to ask what had pulled her attention, she surprised him by coming to sit beside him, not just near him, but right beside him, shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank. “Thank you.”

Success. He sat still, paralyzed, trying to keep his heartbeat from racing, his tail from twitching. She liked his gift, she liked his shared treasure, he could feel his paws wanting to happy tap in the sand and the springs of his hips wanting to leap in triumph.

But still he sat. Because she had finally come closer and he knew even a twitch would send her just out of reach again, no matter how badly he wanted to curl his tail around her–not only to warm her but to protect–his foxy instincts running high.

But still he kept sitting, as long as he could, watching her from the corner of his eye as she sniffed the wind and seemed to be relaxing around him.

Not long after that, she was gone in the mornings and he’d track her here to this cove and peek around the bluff wall to find her sitting in almost the same spot, looking out toward the sea. The first day he’d found her, he’d startled her and she ran off in a flash, not coming home until after dark.

After that he left her be and went back to the goose flats for breakfast. She’d join him soon enough and say nothing about it, smiling as if all was fine. But she never sat so close to him again and she still slept every night with perked ears near an escape route.

After a while though, he tried a different tactic. He came out into the cove and sat at the shore as she did–quiet and still–only still very far away. He’d let her pick up his scent before moving closer and sitting nearby, matching her gaze to the sea, and they would sit in silence for a short moment before she would perk up as if all was well and backtrack to the wall and therefore getting on with the day, nothing more about her alone time to be said.

Until today. Poking his head around the bluff he found Farrah on her feet, trotting up and down a short length of the shore, eyes on the far, far horizon…and then he noticed the smell.

Snow.

There was an iceberg far out to sea, not unusual for late spring on some years, but not altogether common either. They never came close and were often in and out of sight within a morning. This one was drifting further away and Fink watched as Farrah tracked it going, looked after it even when it was too far to be seen or smelled, finally sitting with a little sigh and sink of the head.

And then he understood.

One recent night they’d been looking up at the stars and Fink had pointed out The Great Crack in the Sky, his friend Roz had told him its name was Cassiopeia, whatever that means. That’s when she told him that in her home, they called that group of stars The Iceberg Edge. The elders of her pack used it to teach kits not to go out onto the ice when they saw the pattern of this constellation on the ground, because it meant the ice was breaking up and going out to sea. 

This is how she came here, she told him, caught on a piece of spring ice that broke away during a clutch of warm days. It drifted too far out to sea for anyone to hear her howling. When it was almost melted out from under her, she was lucky enough to swim to a piece of debris and huddle on it for a few days until there was an upset and she was in the water again and the next thing she knew she was waking up in the hut with a bear blocking the exit.

It seemed like yesterday and ages ago all together.

Once she noticed him sitting down the beach, this time he moved closer and sat quietly for a little bit before speaking slow and low.

“You…miss your home, huh.” As he expected, she only blinked down at the sand, and his ears fell to a droop. But she wasn’t running off or changing the subject. Maybe if she wasn’t ready to talk, she might be okay with listening. Fink swallowed, realizing he was about to say some things out loud for the first time. “I felt the same way when I came to this part of the island. My mom kicked me out pretty early and I was run off before I could really learn the ropes. It took me a long time to forgive her. I know now that it wasn’t her first choice, that there were too many males and not enough females so I guess she was afraid I’d get targeted. But I was pretty darn lonely for a long time.”

“What changed?”

His breath caught as she spoke up, but he managed to recover and answer. “I found friends. Really amazing friends. I hope that for you too. It seems like you’re off to a good start. Especially if you keep giving Pinktail a break from her spawn.”

At least she cracked half a smile before letting it fade again. “Friends don’t replace family.”

“No, not replace. But they can become another kind of family. I have proof.” He’d told her enough about Roz and Brightbill, and Thorn spent enough time in the hut that he knew she understood. “But I’d like to hear about your family…” and here he couldn’t help himself, his self-interests creeping in as he tested his chances, “...I assume you mean your mate and kits…”

Here Farrah gave him a look so sudden, so bewildered and distressed that he was about to ask her if he’d overstepped, but instead, that laugh of hers broke out, although not as loudly as usual. 

“I was talking about my mother and siblings. They were my whole world. They had to be. The food was scarce so the families were spread out and…well. Mate? That’s… I’m obviously nobody’s first choice, I mean, just look..” She stuck out her tongue and made a silly face, tilting her head from side to side. 

Fink could only blink, perplexed.

The breeze picked up, but the scent of snow was only a memory now, the water a flat line. Farrah’s nose pointed down to the sand again, her half smile diminishing by half again for a moment. Fink leaned forward, words starting to bubble up, words he thought he’d never get to say to another fox. But before he could say what he’d been holding down, she shook off the mood and feebly tried to make it a non-issue, abolishing the silence between them.

“Have I ever told you how my sister once head-butted an elephant seal?”

“Ah…no. Really?”

“Really!”

“Huh. What’s…an elephant seal?”

“It’s–oh! Sometimes I forget…of course you wouldn’t know...!” Then that laugh again, launching into the story, starting with an impression of the seal–although if it was a good impression or not, he couldn’t tell having never seen one. But he knew somehow by her laughter that it was. She was suddenly back to normal, comfortable to be herself when it was only the two of them in this little hidden cove.

No mate. She had no mate. This was good news. For him. But sad for her. That is, if she wanted one. What if she didn’t–? Wait. What did she mean by that? That nobody would choose her? Because of her fur? Because she was a runt? Maybe that made sense in a place where she would have to hide from predators, but she wouldn’t have to do that here. And even if it was necessary, he could protect her…probably. If she wanted that... Even so, she’d be okay. If he learned anything from Brightbill it was that sometimes the will to survive past nature’s plan for you makes you even more likely to outlive everyone else.

He could certainly feel nature’s plan working on him and thought with a little grin that he would gladly give up a longer life for that plan to work out….

But Farrah was speaking, talking about her family, their annual rounds from point to point in their territory, how she and her sisters used to share everything and hide and pop out to scare their mother and she would do her very best to act frightened. And the nights dancing under the green light curtains! Had he ever seen the shifting lights in the night sky? He had to admit he hadn’t. So he put his wonderings aside and laid down in the sand, crossing his paws and listened, learned, and bathed in the light of her widening trust. They had all day until the tide came back in. And Fink had no need to be anywhere but here.

He hoped in time, she would feel the same.

___

PART 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

[thecreatormj]

MJ - 6819 Riverside Estates Rd | New Build

Hey guys! I know it isn't a house from the last post but I've been working on this home for a while!

Location: Willow Creek

Lot Size: 50x50

Bedrooms: 7

Bathrooms: 6

[DOWNLOAD]

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Interesting 1870 Victorian in Greenup, KY has 6bds, 4ba, and priced at $745K. I can't believe it's under $1M. Take a look inside.

The gorgeous entrance hall. Isn't it impeccable?

The home is done in authentic Victorian colors.

What a lovely sitting room. Look at the shelving and the fireplace.

I wish they would've taken a better photo of this- the stair wall has a mural.

I have never seen a sunken room in a Victorian. This parlor is 3 steps down. It also has doors to the garden.

And across the room from these stairs, there are more stairs to go up to the next floor.

The other stairs come up into the kitchen.

The kitchen remodel is cute. The color of the cabinetry matches the house and it looks like an original kitchen layout. It must've been done some years ago b/c the cabinet style is dated and the counters are laminate.

The home has 6 bedrooms. This is very nice.

1 of 4 baths. This is lovely.

So pretty.

If a new owner loves Victorian decor, there's nothing to do in this home but move in. All the bedrooms have lovely wallpaper and curtains.

What a great bath. Look at the murals on the wall. How cute is this?

Gorgeous. This could be the primary bedroom.

Or, this one could be the primary, also. The 2 bedrooms face one another.

Beautiful hall. You don't often see a hall like this with a window.

Another lovely bedroom.

And a beautiful bath. Love the color of the sink and the way it's set into a vintage bureau.

Back downstairs, they've got a small sitting room. It could also be used as another bedroom.

Instead of a powder room at the end of the entrance hall, there's a full bath.

And there's a stunning dining room with a built-in china cabinet.

Look at the beautiful porch on the 2nd fl.

Below is a covered patio.

This home is like a picture inside and out. There's a beautiful gazebo and the property measures 4.56acres. That's the Ohio River.

Stairs go down to the river bank.

And, you may see a paddleboat going by.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1023-Riverside-Dr-Greenup-KY-41144/87848203_zpid/

[ladychaos]

Hi! This is the last build for Courtyard Lane in Willow Creek and it’s home to the lovely Bear family. I had loads of fun creating the households and stories for this neighborhood, remaking the Pancakes, giving Bob a real restaurant and also, you know, a little bit of depth personality-wise. I can’t wait for you guys to discover the new save file!

Take care and stay safe. 💜

RIVERSIDE ROOST [CC-FREE]

Residential

30x20

Willow Creek

With its characteristic bright facade, made of natural wood lap siding and local stones, this house is a perfect example of willowcreekian architecture. Two years ago, the Bears decided to leave the city. With five kids to take care of and a new one on the way, Vivienne and Charlie knew it was time to settle in a calmer place with good schools nearby for the children. A pool, a little garden, a large living space and a beautiful neighborhood: what more could they ask for?

AVAILABLE IN MY GALLERY

Origin ID: LadyChaosWorlds

You can download Riverside Roost here: [X]

You can download the Bear Family here: [X]

📁 TRAY FILES :  DOWNLOAD (PATREON, FREE)

📁 WANT TO DOWNLOAD THE HOUSEHOLD? [X]

Don’t forget to activate bb.moveobjects before downloading the lot on build mode (not from the map).

[*I’m currently redoing all Willow Creek, creating builds and storylines for the whole world. You can check my progress here.]

[saturnville]

echoes in the heights, terry richmond | chapter one.

Synopsis: In the quiet town of Riverside Heights, Terry Richmond seeks a fresh start, but his growing connection with the guarded Elara Taylor forces him to confront the past he’s tried to leave behind—and the future he’s afraid to embrace.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!OC (Elara Taylor)

A/N: Unless you’d like to be removed, you must interact with a reblog and/or comment to keep your spot on the taglist. Enjoy!

Tags: @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @turn-thy-paige @theglamclosetsl

Starting a new life took work. Shedding the remnants of the past and putting on cloaks on the future, though uncomfortable, was necessary. It was never easy, but it was necessary.

So, he bought an old pickup, packed his belongings, and drove three hours eastward until he reached Riverside Heights. It was a quaint town with about 10,000 people, but it would do. He was satisfied when his eyes landed on the sign as he drove past the threshold. Welcome to Riverside Heights! Most populous Black town in the East. Whatever internal compass guided him led him to the right place.

The same day, he found an apartment owned by an elderly couple looking for another tenant.

They said it was fully furnished and had rent and utilities much under his budget. He quickly signed the dotted line and gratefully presented money for the deposit.

He spent the evening in his new apartment. Although he didn’t have much, he hoped it would eventually become like home. He basked in the warmth of the quaint bedroom and the shower’s heat against his sore body. For the first time in a long time, he slept like a baby that night, and it was needed for the day he had ahead.

There was a job to obtain, and he wouldn’t stop until he found one.

He woke up early the following day before the sunlight hit the bedroom. He said a quick prayer, made his bed, and dropped to the floor to do a few quick exercises before heading to the shower to begin his hygiene routine.

Afterward, he wore a black polo, dark jeans, and his cleanest boots. He glanced in the mirror momentarily. His eyes, usually full of life, were dull and tired. Sure, the color was light, but the sparkle behind them was long gone. Whatever slither of happiness was left died right alongside Mike in that prison cell where his body collapsed. No matter how hard he tried, happiness seemed out of reach, and it was exhausting to chase after it.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear slid down his cheek. He mumbled lowly, wiped his face roughly, and shuffled out the door quickly.

Riverside Heights was a beautiful town full of vibrancy and life. Everyone seemed genuine and kind. Everywhere he turned, he was met with a warm smile and a kind, “How are you, sir?” This was very different from his previous experiences.

Yet, he still felt like an outsider. He was surrounded by people who looked like him, who most likely knew nothing of his past, and who were so kind, yet he was an outsider in a land that shouldn’t be foreign.

But rather than staying in his head, he smiled back, hoping people wouldn’t see the stiffness of it, and said, “Doing well, thank you for asking. Um, I’m new in town, and I’m looking for a job. Do you have any suggestions on where to look?”

Being the kind woman she was, Ms. Willis walked to a community event with him. “You came just in time. They’re having a job fair at the local community center. There are plenty of folks there looking to hire. I hope you find what you need.”

They walked silently for a while, and he took in the beauty of Riverside Heights. The sun beamed on them, warming his skin. Along the road were hundreds of freshly planted flowers and plants. He always liked plants. They were beautiful to him. The grass was freshly cut and irritated his nose, but he let it go to bask in nature.

His eyes followed the fowls in the air as they chirped and danced freely. How beautiful that must have been. The pace of the town was steady. People ran on the sidewalks, children played in the field with their friends, and newborn babies cried as their parents tried to calm them. They were greeted by a few people, some asking about him and his unfamiliar face and others addressing Ms. Willis. Each interaction was unique and lovely. Everyone was so friendly.

Moments later, Ms. Willis spoke up. Her graying eyes squinted as she looked at the young man who towered over her. “Why Riverside Heights? Most folks that are here were born here. We don’t get folks coming in from the outside too often.”

The question he dreaded had come to haunt him. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It’s a long story,” he gave a rueful chuckle. He tore his eyes away from hers. He

couldn’t look her in the eye. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and shrugged. “Just needed a new start, away from what I knew before. Was driving for a few hours, saw the sign, and decided to try it.”

Just as his grandmother would do, she crossed her hands over one another and nodded, drawing out a long mhm as she did so. “You’ll have to tell me that story. Maybe over some dinner and a good peach cobbler. I’m sure you don’t have food in that stomach of yours.” She tapped his belly, and he smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. “And regardless of the reason, my boy, I am glad you’re here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Willis,” he said gratefully, accepting the hand squeeze she gave. They engaged in more small talk before they arrived at the community center. Before he walked in, she grabbed his arm and caressed it lovingly, “You got my number now, so I expect your call cause dinner is at 6. I’ll see you tonight.”

With a soft “Yes, ma’am” and a smile, he retreated and headed toward the community center. People were packed like sardines in the center, looking for jobs. He considered himself one of the lucky ones. There, within thirty minutes, he found a job. It was nothing crazy, but it was stable. It was normal. It was what he needed.

“Construction, aye?” He lifted his eyes from the documents he was given and saw a dark-eyed, dark-haired man, maybe around his age, with his hands in his pocket. “Been needing some more workers out here. I look forward to working with you.”

Naturally, he stuck his hand out, “Terry Richmond. Nice to meet you, man.” The man, Terry learned, was Jackson, the son of Ms. Willis. He worked at the construction company as a project manager and insisted they’d spend a lot of time together.

Terry was hesitant at first, but it was what he needed. Maybe, in due time, he wouldn’t feel like an outsider but rather a member of Riverside Heights.

At least, so he hoped.

-

After dinner at Ms. Willis’, Terry settled into his apartment. He placed the leftovers in the fridge and the groceries he picked up on the way back. It was a weird feeling to move and settle into what would be a new life. There was pressure, a lot of it.

To not screw up, to keep his head down, and stay focused. To ensure that this life would be better than the previous one.

It was what he wanted. It was what he deserved. So, rather than sulking over what was, he tried to focus on the present and do what ordinary people do when they move—eat ice cream and watch trashy movies on television. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t know if it would help, but he was more than willing to try. He had no choice.

-

Two days later, he started work. He was ready to start, dressed in a logoed short-sleeved shirt, thick cargo pants, and work boots.

He did not have a busy workday. Although orientation took all day, he had leftovers from dinner with Ms. Willis to rejuvenate his spirit.

He sat in the corner while eating lunch. Being alone didn’t last long, though. He heard a familiar voice call out his name, “Terry, my man.” He turned to see Jackson, dressed in a blue suit with a hard hat on his head. Terry turned swiftly, nodding as he swallowed the chicken and rice.

“Jackson,” he greeted lowly. “How you doin’?” Jackson replied with an exasperated sigh and peeled the hard hat off his head, revealing his matted curls.

“Man, listen. The new city planner has been behind me regarding these new plans. She ain’t one to be played with.” Terry assumed she was a handful by his tone and shaking his head. He hadn’t known Jackson long, but he was a goofy guy based on his interactions over having dinner three nights at Ms. Willis. So, being bent out of shape over work meant the city planner wasn’t easy to deal with.

“In what way?” Terry asked curiously. This came as a surprise to him. Even though he’d only been in the city for a few days, he couldn’t imagine anyone behind a pain in his behind.

“Is she that bad, or she just won’t let you flirt with her?” Terry’s comment made Jackson cut his eyes. Terry choked on his water as he laughed.

Jackson pulled up a chair and swung it around. “Nah, she’s just…you’ll know when you see her,

man. Had me feeling like I didn’t know how to do my job.” Terry’s eyebrow raised. She sounded condescending, but he was old enough to know not to form opinions based on someone else’s.

Terry closed his Tupperware container and slid it back into the small lunch box he had purchased from the market. “Guess I’ll find out when I meet her.” He stood from his seat and shrugged.

Jackson scoffed. “That’s if you survive her wrath. Just know, I warned you, brother.”

“Warning heard.”

-

“Mr. Richmond, I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure how capable you are to conduct this projectalongside Mr. Willis.” Jackson was right. She was condescending as hell, and it didn’t sit right with him.

Terry’s light eyes met Jackson’s darker ones; they shared a look. One that said, “I told you so,” and “I see what you mean.” Terry rolled his shoulders back and intertwined his hands.

“And if I may ask, Ms. Taylor. How’d you reach that conclusion?” His facial expressions remained unchanged, though his voice showed slight annoyance with her comment. Ms. Taylor, or Elara Taylor, City Planner of Riverside Heights, mimicked his movement.

She glanced at his resume on her temporary desk.

“You don’t have much construction experience. How do I know you won’t put a faulty pipe in the ground?” Dear God, he thought to himself. He had no clue who this woman was, and she didn’t know him either, yet here she was, making wild accusations with an accusatory tone.

Terry glanced at Jackson swiftly. He had to choose his words wisely for his job and Jackson's position, but she wasn’t getting away with talking to him like an incompetent child.

“Ms. Taylor, common sense is a virtue I possess. I may not be Bob the Builder, but I’m a marine. I’ve worked with things far worse than a pipe, which I’m sure one of the many contractors your office hired would guide me on how to install. I am here for a reason: to do my job. With my two years of prior construction experience.” Terry wasn’t one to get snippy. He usually was cool, calm, and collected, but the last thing he would tolerate was issues with a woman he didn’t know from a can of paint; her title be damned.

Silence fell over the room. Jackson looked between them, sensing the newfound tension between them. He sunk further in his chair.

Elara stared blankly at him. Her dark eyes bore into his light ones. He’d gotten many compliments on his eyes over the years, but hers were just as stunning, if not more. Something about brown eyes made his knees weak, and his loins stirred.

As their staring game intensified, he noted that she was beautiful. Her complexion was rich in hue and relatively smooth, save for the fading acne scars on her cheeks. Her nose and lips

were distinct and whole, like her ancestors. She wore her hair straight, the dark tresses settling at her shoulders, and she wore a two-piece navy blue suit. Elara Taylor was the head woman in charge.

Her eyes softened. She cleared her throat and replied in a softer tone. “So be it. I hope you’re as good as Ms. Willis advocates for you to be. And Jackson, I expect that draft to be on my desk at 9 tomorrow morning. You’re dismissed.” She gave them no opportunity to respond before picking up her pen and scribbling on paper.

Terry chuckled and stood from his seat. His noise caught her attention. She raised an eyebrow.

He raised one back. “You have a great evening, Ms. Taylor.”

She grumbled something under her breath but said nothing further as he left the office, and Jackson shuffled behind him.

Once they were far enough, Jackson said, “Told you she was a lot.”

Terry shrugged and walked toward the meeting room to receive instruction from one of his trainers. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

[bobcatmoran]

So with Tim Walz, governor of my home state, as the VP nominee (and news stories about him/Minnesota coming out of the woodwork) here's some stuff that will probably be helpful to know over the next 3 months:

The Minnesota Democratic party is, due to a 1944 party merger with the local Farmer-Labor party, the Democratic-Farmer-Labor party, or DFL for short. Local media refers to them as such.

Speaking of local media, we have two major local newspapers: the Star Tribune out of Minneapolis (Strib for short) and the somewhat smaller Pioneer Press out of St. Paul.

Minneapolis and St. Paul are the Twin Cities. They're next to each other, but woe betide you if you mistake one for the other. Minneapolis is the larger of the two, with the more vibrant nightlife and history as a flour milling hub, while St. Paul is the state capital, home to lots of liberal arts colleges and a significant Asian-American population, mostly the Karen ethnic group from Myanmar and Hmong.

Other reputable local news sources include MinnPost (online indie news site), the Minnesota Reformer (unashamedly leftist and pro-union), and Sahan Journal (focused on stories affecting the local immigrant and minority communities). We also have Minnesota Public Radio, or MPR for short, one of the largest NPR affiliates in the nation with a pretty solid local news arm. Bring Me the News is rarely a source of breaking news, but what they do report on is solid.

Alpha News is not a reputable local news source. They're far right wing and have a *cough* casual relation with reporting on actual events.

About 1% of Minnesota's population are Somali/Somali-Americans, concentrated in Minneapolis, especially the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood. They're a major target of local racism and Islamophobia, by conservative assholes. The nonsense rumor over Minnesota's new flag being based on the Somali flag (because…uh…blue? and star?) stems from that particular local brand of xenophobia.

It's "Hot Dish." "Casserole" is the name of the type of cooking utensil you make Hot Dish in.

[artists-ally]

{Train Wreck} Cassian!sister x Azriel AU {Pt. 1}

Man it feels good to be back with this series again. If you're wondering why the title feels familiar, you might have read this before. I decided I wanted to pick it back up again, but I needed to make a few changes. So, here is the revised version of Train Wreck!! Feel free to re-read, there are some new things here and there, so it's definitely worth it!! Anyway, enjoy my loves! Part 2 will be up soon!! Title and series inspired by this song!

Word Count: 8,587

Warnings: angst, language, traumatized characters (will come into play later in the series, you've been warned now), abandonment,

Tagging: @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @sarawritestories @claireswritingcorner @dawneternal @ninthcircleofprythian @blessthepizzaman @lady-of-tearshed @pit-and-the-pen

Summary: After six years, this is the first time Ira and her brother Cassian have been in the same room. Under less than ideal circumstances, they're forced to meet again. Will Ira be able to forgive Cassian for the way he left things? Will she be able to trust the new friends she makes? Will she ever be able to open up to her brothers hot-shot best friend?

~~~~~

“He’s going to say no.” No response from the peanut gallery in the front seat. “Seriously, he’s not going to be okay with this. You might as well let me out of the car now.”

“Will you just be quiet?” Arthur snapped, eyes locking with mine from the rearview mirror. “Need I remind you that this is your fault. You’ve left us with no other option.”

“I told you, it wasn’t me. That was–” “Cal, I remember the story. And that’s all that it is. A story, a fabrication that Arthur and I are no longer going to be entangled in. You may be able to fool the police with that lie, but you can’t fool us, Ira,” Dana snapped, whirling around to shoot me some daggers. She couldn’t look intimidating if she tried; her face was like a bunny, and every time she frowned it just looked like she smelled something rotten.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. There was no way he was going to take me. We hadn’t spoken in almost six years, I didn’t even know he was alive until three months ago when I heard about his engagement.

Fourteen years of growing up together meant nothing to him, I guess.

The big, riverside house came into view at the end of an equally impressive driveway. A shame for whoever had to go and collect the mail every morning. 

“Stay here, in the car,” Arthur barked. 

I opened the door and got out of the car, kicking a few stones. Man this place was flashy; a big fountain in the circular driveway, a line of cars over by a garage. Not to mention the very obvious multi-million dollar mansion that never seemed to end.

“Lord, give me the strength to not strangle this child,” Arthur sighed, marching to the front door. I snickered, he was always so uptight.

“Not a child, Arthur,” I countered. “I’m fucking twenty years old.”

“Give it a rest, Ira. We’re trying to help you since you clearly don’t understand the basic human morals of being a functioning member of society,” Dana said, opening the trunk, catching a bag as it tumbled from the stack.

“Sorry that I don’t like to conform to the idealistic fantasy that is modern society.” 

Turns out it’s hard to get a job with a criminal record. ‘We can��t hire a liability’ this and ‘we won’t have delinquents running our business’ that. So, I had to get creative with my… places of employment. It had been a fantastic plan. Brilliant even. Just something simple to save a few bucks so I could move out of this god forsaken place. But it got fucked up. Bad. And ended up with me in handcuffs.

This was my punishment. Instead of serving six months in county jail, I’m instead being dumped at this doorstep. Just what I always wanted. Knowing if I ever go back to the shithole I called home I’ll be arrested with a warrant.

I’ll never go in on a deal with someone ever again. 

“Get your stuff,” Dana dropped a few things to the ground. 

I came around the side of the car and heard the door open, and that lovely voice of his ring through my head. 

Great. This is going to go fantastic.

“Arthur? W-What are you doing here?” he said, a hiccup to his voice. 

“Cassian, good to see you,” the old man grinned, extending his hand. I watched through the windows of the van, saw Cassian stare at Arthurs hand and do nothing with it. “We uhh… we have something for you.”

“I don’t understand. How’d you find me?”

I could hear the crunch of gravel and I knew what was about to happen. Any second now I was about to come face to face with the douchebag I was dreading. I won’t lie, some small, juvenile part of me wished for him to be happy to see me. But I know it’s not gonna happen. 

“Dana? What the fuck is going on? Why are you here? How did you-”

“She’s not the surprise, Cass,” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and walked to the back of the car. I didn’t miss the way he shuddered. 

There was a sharp yank on my elbow and I was pulled from the safety of my hiding spot. I jerked away from his grip, fixing the sleeve on my favorite jacket. Then I looked up. Fuck he’s…

“Ira…” He blinked several times, as if he could ever mistake me for someone else. Then I watched the color drain from his face. “It’s uhh… it’s been a while.” “Don’t give me that shit,” I couldn’t be bothered to be pleasant. Nothing about this would be fucking pleasant.

Cassian looked from Arthur to Dana, then back to me. And to the duffle bag that I was holding on to. I could see him connecting the dots inside his thick-ass skull. “No. No no no–”

“Cassian, she needs someone to look after her,” Dana expressed, chasing after him when he turned around. 

“You cannot just plop her on my doorstep like some stray dog,” Cass shouted, throwing his arms in the air and all around.

“She’s your sister, for fucks sake,” Arthur joined. “She needs you to look after her. Since you left, Ira has done nothing but cause me headaches and gray hairs.”

“I’m right here, you know,” I walked over, throwing the bag down. “And I’d appreciate if you talked about me like a fucking human being, not some gag gift that is always shuffled around Christmas because no one wants it.”

“This is fucking ridiculus. I cannot take you in, Ira. I have too much going on.”

“Some things never change,” I huffed. “See, I told you he wouldn’t give me the time of day. You’re still the same selfish, self-centered asshole you’ve always been.”

“Don’t talk like that to your goddamn brother,” Arthor yelled, spit flying onto my cheek. It took every ounce of self restraint to not rip his fucking throat out. Do not stoop to his level, Ira. Calm the fuck down.

“Cass? What’s going on?” Someone called

Cassian scrunched his face, and my eyes went to the door. A pretty woman was standing there with her arms folded. She had a scowl on her face and narrow eyes. Her long brown hair was braided over her shoulder. 

He heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing, these people were just leaving.”

“Who’s here?” Another voice, a man, asked next. He was tall, had black hair and really deep blue eyes. They actually looked violet in the light. He was just as tall as Cassian when he came next to his side. The woman, with the most terrifying gaze I’ve ever seen, stood on his other side. 

Cassian muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead. “This is Arthur and Dana. My foster parents from years ago. And this… this is my sister.”

“Your sister?” Both of them exclaimed at the same time. 

He didn’t even tell them about me… 

I stand there, shocked to my core. God I knew he was an asshole, but he never once mentioned me? What a fucking–

“They were just–” “Come in come in,” the man stepped down and shook Arthur's hand. “I am Rhysand, call me Rhys. Welcome, we are so pleased to have you. Cassian never mentioned having visitors today.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Dana let out the fakest laugh I’ve ever heard. She was one of those people who, when nervous, laughed after every sentence. I’ve come to despise the sound. 

“No, Rhys,” Cassian shook his head. “They are not welcome. Take your fucking shit, take your goddamn bags, and go. You’re not allowed back here.”

At least that’s something we could both agree on. Neither side of this party wanted to be here. The feeling was mutual. 

“Welp, you heard the man,” I clapped my hands together. “Sorry to disrupt your whole life, to remind you that I still exist but we’ll go now. We all know that you don’t want the responsibility anyway. You didn’t want it six years ago, so why would that change today?”

“You know goddamn well that if I had a choice I would’ve–”

“Okay, okay can we cool it a couple degrees here? Someone better start explaining what is going on,” the man, Rhys, said. He put an arm between Cassian and I. I wasn’t sure when I got in his face, but he might want to remove the barrier before it gets ripped off. 

There were a couple too many silent heart beats, but both of us backed down. Cassian glanced at Arthur and Dana, taking a deep breath. I watched his chest rise and fall. 

In for four, out for four. In for five, out for five…

A lump rose in my throat. 

I could practically hear the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. This silent exchange of glances and body language I’m sure I’d never understand. But then Cassian backed down. Literally, he took a step back, hands on his hips.

“Would you guys like to stay for dinner?” Rhys asked Arthur and Dana.

Dinner? Dinner? Oh fuuuuck no. The four of us haven’t been in a room together for six years, and this crackhead just asked if we wanted to have dinner?

“We would be delighted,” Dana accepted, shooting me a look from head to toe. “Since it’s still midday, would you mind showing us around the property? It looks gorgeous.”

“Certainly,” Rhys says, offering his elbow. Dana latches on like a lost duckling, Arthur trailing after her. 

And then there were two. 

I looked up at the clouds, finding no discernible shapes amongst them. Welp. Here fucking goes nothing. 

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Do not,” he pointed at me. “You are not staying here, whenever this little tour is over, you’re gone with them.”

“Gladly.” 

“How the fuck did you guys find me anyway?” His eyes were full of rage. Full of hate. Full of resentment.

“It's amazing the things you can find with twenty bucks and a library computer.”

“You hacked into a library system and stalked me?” Cassian was dumbfounded.

I just smirked. “It wasn’t that hard, don’t give yourself too much credit. Kinda hard to hide somewhere when your face is plastered all over your website. ‘Velaris Hotel and Casino’ has a catchy ring to it, come up with it yourself?”

“I swear to god if I ever see you set foot in my hotel or my casino you’re gonna regret it. I cannot believe you hunted me down.”

“And I cannot believe you abandoned me,” I screamed. Years and years of pent up aggression. Years and years of shower thoughts and late nights wondering what I’d say to him when this moment came. And every single thing I’ve thought of has flown out the fucking window. 

Cassian had the gull to roll his eyes. I almost smacked him across the face. 

“Yo, are you coming inside or what?” A third voice sounded. God, how many people live in this fucking house?

A petite, blonde girl was in the doorway, her eyes bouncing between us. 

“Well? You gonna invite me in or is that privilege only reserved for Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb?” I asked, rocking back and forth on my heels. 

He looked me head to toe, and I got that same feeling as when Dana did it. Just raw disgust. 

“Break anything and I’ll murder you.”

“I’m thinking you’re gonna murder me regardless but eye-eye-captain,” I nodded, following behind his solid frame. 

The house was absolutely massive. I thought shit like this only existed in movies, not… wherever the fuck we were. Certainly not my normal run-down streets I was used to, and certainly not somewhere I ever thought Cassian was going to end up. 

There were cabinets filled with fine dishes and a chandelier hanging in the front entrance. There was a massive living room with the biggest TV and couch I’ve ever seen. Same with the kitchen and the dining room, which was being prepped by maids. Legit, actual maids. For fucks sake could this get any stranger?

Cassian took a left and went up a set of stairs. Classic Cass, running away at any chance he gets. My phone buzzed in my pocket. 

Cal: your a piece of shit I hope you know that

Me: You’re* but it’s fine.

Cal: i cannot believe you fucking left me

Me: Whoops. Sorry bud, I couldn’t stick around. You dicked me over so… guess that karma’s a bitch.

Cal: you know im bad with names

Me: WE USED EACH OTHERS MOTHER FUCKER. HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO FORGET MY NAME

Cal: hopefully pretty fucking easy because i don’t ever want to fucking see you ever again fuck you ira

Me: Right back atcha, asshole.

The only person that I had remotely trusted was out of my life. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone to trust. There were plenty of things I never told Cal. Plenty of things I kept hidden for my own safety. It was a strictly need-to-know partnership. I always got a little weary when he started asking too many questions. 

And I learned pretty fucking quick you can’t trust your own blood either. 

Lesson learned. Always. Trust. Your. Gut. 

I trailed behind Dana and Arthur, always five steps behind, close enough to hear, but far enough to make an escape should I need to. 

“Oh, and this is my wife Feyre. My darling, this is Arthur, Dana, and Ira, Cassian’s foster parents and his sister,” Rhys spared me a glance and I scrunched my face. Had Cassian really never bothered to tell them about me?

“Wow,” she had a small smile on her pretty face. Why was everyone here so pretty? “You look just like him. You both have the same eyes. And the same hair.”

“Great, what I’ve always wanted to be. Cassian's clone.” I couldn’t stop the eye roll.

“Ira,” Dana hissed. “Some manners?”

“Thank you, your Royal Highness.”

Dana smacked her forehead, mumbling something about gray hairs and a headache again. I chuckled. I thought it was funny. Especially the curtsy. 

“They are staying for dinner, I’ll let them know to set a few extra plates,” Rhys said.

“Good, I wouldn’t mind getting to know some of Cassian’s family,” Feyre nodded, that small smile still on her lips. We had all meandered outside to look at their yard, at the fountain in the front of the house. 

To no one's surprise, there was a matching one in the back by the pool. 

We all went inside after seeing the yard, but Cassian lingered at the back of the pack. While Rhys took Dana and Arthur around to the kitchen, Cassian yanked me–why was everyone throwing me around?–into a room off to the side. 

“What the fuck did you do this time?” Off to a great start.

“Wow, Cassie-”

“Do not call me that.” 

He used to hate it when I called him Cassie. Especially around his friends because they would make fun of him for days after. 

“No hi, how are you? No ‘it's good to see that my sister is alive and doing well?’” “Clearly not well enough since they dragged you all the way out here.” Cassian’s eyes were full of fire. Looks like he still had that canyon of a line between his bushy-ass-eyebrows when he was upset. 

“You don’t know anything of what I’ve had to endure the last six fucking years without you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

I swallowed, I hated when he scolded me. “It wasn’t even that bad. They just gave me community service.” I lied out of my ass.

“Jesus Christ, Ira. What did they want to give you?” Cassian shouted for the whole house to hear. 

“Doesn’t matter, I got myself out of it. Like I always do, without your fucking help. I am capable of taking care of myself without you.”

“Yeah you seem to be doing a swell job,” Cassian looked me up and down, clearly judging my tangled hair and ripped up jeans that I’ve probably had since middle school. “I thought all of this was behind you, Ira. When I left you were-”

“Abandoned. You didn’t leave, you abandoned me.”

Cassian relaxed his shoulders. “You know if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve.”

“No you wouldn’t have.” I was waiting for him to argue, to deny that fact. But he didn’t, and his haunting silence was enough of an answer. I scoffed, a hard, bitter noise. “You know I don’t blame you, no one would want to take a juvenile delinquent anywhere, especially somewhere like this place.”

“Ira-” “Save you’re fucking breath, Cass. You don’t have to pretend around me, you’ve never had to. Just play along with it for one night and I’ll be gone by the morning. Then I won’t have to be your liability to shoulder ever again.”

I didn’t wait around to see his response. Somewhere deep inside I was actually excited to see him. To meet the person my scrawny, gangly brother had turned into. Now he was… a man. Like a real man. I never thought I’d see him with long hair, but here we are.

He looked healthy. He looked happy. For fucks sake he was engaged. Albeit to the most terrifying looking woman I’ve ever seen, but they looked like they somehow worked.

I found Dana and Arthur with glasses of wine around a large table, two other women that I hadn’t met yet. 

“Ahh, this is her,” Rhys stood up, putting his hands on my shoulders. I immediately shrugged them off. “This is Ira, Cassian’s sister.”

“After all this time,” the pretty blonde woman spoke, looking at me from head to toe. “Who knew Cassian could keep you a secret.”

“You look just like him,” a girl who looked similarly to Feyre said, eyes wide. “I’m Elain. And that’s Morrigan.”

“Mor is fine, dear,” Mor smiled, coming over to me and Rhys. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

“Not really,” I grimace, but she linked her elbow with mine anyway, dragging me away. “I know that look. You’re overwhelmed. Follow me.”

I thought I was doing a good job at masking it. “You don’t know the fucking half of it.”

“I know Elain said this already, but fuck you look like Cassian,” she laughed, opening a room and revealing a giant bed with a balcony on the other side of some french doors. 

“It gets really fucking annoying,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Understood,” she nodded, not pushing it. “This is my room, you can go out on the balcony if you need some fresh air. Or the bathroom, whatever you want.”

This entire room was as big as the trailer I grew up in. I’ve never seen such a big bed, or a big closet. Jesus, she could have the entirety of Macy’s in there. 

She must’ve caught me staring at it cause she walked over and flipped on the light. “Wanna take a look?”

I snapped back to her, shaking my head. I shoved my hands in my pockets, digging my nails into my palms. Everything in here was so pristine, and I was so… not. I didn’t wanna step anywhere but the hardwood floor.

“I like your jacket, those are some really cool patches,” she smiled, taking a closer look. She reached out and touched one, the blue plaid square fraying at the edges. 

It was a cut out of Cassian’s flannel he left behind…

“Thanks,” I nodded, ignoring the lump in my throat. “I’ve spent a lot of time making them.”

“That's so cool, I have zero creative ability,” Mor sighed as she flopped back on the bed. 

“Neither do I, just something to pass the time, I guess?” I took my hands out of my pockets, digging some grime out from under my nails. 

I could feel her eyes on me. That tension. Knowing she’s about to say something. 

“Look, I know it’s not my place to ask, but–”

“Then don’t ask. Cause I’m not saying shit,” I said bluntly. “Sorry if that's rude but I don’t know you and you clearly don’t know me so… I don’t need the whole ‘I know what you’re going through’ speech. You don’t. No one does. Not even myself.”

Mor nodded, sitting up, propping her arms behind her back. “I’m a little pissed at Cassian too.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “Why?”

“Because he has never once mentioned you? I know some of where he came from, of bouncing around the foster system, about ‘siblings’ but… he never went into detail. I just assumed they were all other kids in the system, you know? If he would’ve mentioned something about you, trust me, we would have not waited this long to be introduced.”

That… makes me feel slightly better. 

“There's not much to know about me. I’m a fucking nuisance to basically everyone. Especially to Cassian, Arthur, and Dana apparently.”

“What the fuck is their problem?” Mor scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t know. Well– of course I know, it’s me. I’m their fucking problem and they’re trying to get rid of me. I made a dumb fucking decision, but I already did my fucking time. I don’t want anything to do with Cassian so I’m not sure why they’re dragging him into this mess.” 

Mor just looked at me sorrowfully. Fuck, why did I say that? I don’t want her pity. I can’t pretend she cares about me. 

She got off the bed and stood in front of me. She was shorter than I was, but not by a whole lot. 

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. I know it’s fucking awful what they’re making you do, so I don’t blame you for wanting to hide. Help yourself to anything you need.”

And then she was gone. Blonde hair bobbing with her steps. 

This isn’t fucking happening. I’m not in some strange girls room, alone nonetheless, in a different city hundreds of miles away from my familiar streets. I was not about to be abandoned here by Arthur and Dana because they couldn’t stand to take care of me anymore. Not the first, not the second, but the third time I’ve been abandoned. 

Man this is some fucking bullshit. 

I just looked around, envying all of this. It was all hers. All this space, all these things. All these clothes and dresses and jewelry boxes… Why can’t I have these things?

I swallow my tears. I’m so fucking pathetic, why am I about to cry? This is so stupid. Everything about this is stupid. 

I head to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. 

A plan flickers to life in my brain. I know for a fact they’re going to sneak out and leave me and all my shit here. But, I’ll just leave in the middle of the night. Who the fuck is gonna stop me? No one. Who cares if I leave? Also no one. 

I won’t make the same mistake that Cassian did. When I disappear, no one will be able to find me.

I took a long look at myself in the mirror. My tired eyes, my tangled, ratty hair. But I could see it… the resemblance between him and I. The same eyes. Same nose. Same hair. I’ll never be able to unsee it now. 

Okay, Ira. just a few more hours and you're done. Done for good. You can change your name and move to Puerto Rico or something. Paris. Wherever you want to go. Well, you don’t know how to speak Spanish or French, which might be important but… that's why they have translating apps, right? You’ll be fine. You always are.

When I got back downstairs, there was a light chatter in the air. But it stopped the second I walked in the room. 

My hood was quick to go over my head. No one spoke as I sat down and poured some water from the pitcher into my glass. 

Thankfully conversation between Rhys, Feyre, and Dana resumed and the silence wasn’t eating me alive. I took out my phone and scrolled through instagram, posting a picture of a lake I had taken on the drive up here. Just like all the other posts, it wouldn’t get any likes. 

“How do all of you know each other?” Arthur asked. 

“Well I met Cassian when we were in high school, as well as our other friend Azriel,” Rhys started. “We made a deal with each other that when we graduate, we would do everything in our power to become the most powerful business owners we could. As you can see, that little pact is working quite well.” “How long have you lived here?” Dana asked next, clearly eyeing up Rhys. 

“For about three years now?” Mor answered, Rhys nodded. “We kind of all found each other on the same paths and stuck together. We sort of own and share everything around here.”

“That is lovely,” Dana smiled. “And what do you do?”

“I own a casino and a neighboring hotel,” Rhys smiled. The moment I had learned about this hotel and casino, alarm bells rang in my ears. The devil's playground, and it was calling my name. Maybe I’d hit up for a few poker hands. “Cassian runs the whole thing, and Azriel kind of has his own thing.”

“Who’s Azriel?” Arthur unfolded the napkin and laid it across his lap. 

“He is our other friend,” Cassian butted in, lips pressed in that line that I remembered. “He’ll be by later.”

“Great,” I rolled my eyes. “More people.”

“Will you please be polite for once in your life?” Dana whisper-yelled, clearly not being discrete enough since everyone looked at us. 

I just shut my mouth, grinding my teeth. It’s not worth it, it's not worth it, I told myself. A few moments later, a large tray with some type of bird on it came out. It was too big to be a chicken, but too small to be a turkey? Duck maybe? I don’t know, it didn’t matter. It was food. 

Everyone around me took their time while I ate like a heathen. Putting a little bit of everything on my plate and scarfing it down like someone was going to take it away from me. Guess I’m taking on the stray dog title pretty well. 

“So, Ira. What do you like to do?” Mor asked me. 

I don't know what part of my hood being pulled over my head gave off ‘I want to be a part of this conversation’, but here we go I guess. 

“I have many hobbies.” I could see Cassian’s eyes narrow from across the table. 

“Like?” Rhys stuck a green bean in his mouth.

“Uhh, f-fashion. And I’m very good at handling money. Other people's money. As well as picking locks and hotwiring cars-”

“She’s joking,” Cassian gave the fakest laugh– besides Dana’s– that I’ve ever heard. “We used to play cops and robbers when we were little, she always wanted to be the robber.”

“Did I?”

“Yes,” he practically growled. “You did.”

This was crazy. This was actually crazy to be doing this right now. If I had any particular feeling about the things I did, guilty and ashamed were not some of them. Who gave a fuck if I stole from Walmart or faked being a waitress to make a few extra bucks? If anything they should be thanking me for the extra set of hands. Which they didn’t have to pay for. 

It wasn’t like I stole the Mona Lisa for fucks sake. 

“I guess I did.” 

“What was Cassian like growing up? I can only imagine some of the stories you have,” Nesta chimed in from next to Cassian.

“I have a few. One time, Cassian was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich-”

“Do not-”

“And he thought that the peanut butter was in the fridge for some reason. Turns out he grabbed a bottle of dijon mustard and used that instead. He took one bite and threw up everywhere. It took Dana a week to get the smell out of the kitchen.”

Everyone grimaced, poking fun at Cassian for making a jelly-mustard sandwich. “I guess that explains the nausea every time I make one.”

“You still can’t stomach even the smell?” My eyes were a little wide. That had to have been from when we were still in elementary school.

“Nope,” Cassian’s tone was harsh, fork forceful as it went into his mouth. 

“What is everyone laughing about?” A new voice said from over my shoulder. When I turned to look… holy mother of Jesus fucking–

“Azriel,” Rhys, still in a fit of laughter. “Listen to this: Ira, Cassian’s sister, told us why he runs for the hills every time he sees peanut butter.”

“S-Sister?” 

I could not have ignored the exchange between Cass and Azriel if I tried. Those alarm bells from earlier? They were deafening now. Much like Cassian and Rhys earlier, their eyes and body gestures were like a language in and of itself. Impossible to understand, but something was said. 

“Azriel, this is my sister. Ira,” Cassian gestured to me without looking. “This is Azriel. And my foster parents, Arthur and Dana.”

I held Azriel’s gaze for a second. I couldn’t quite figure out what his problem was, but he better not have one with me. I challenged his gaze, but he refused to back down. 

Azriel gave a not-so-subtle look at me, but didn’t say anything as he moved to sit with us. A sharp kick to my shin had me wincing. When I looked up, Cassian met my heated gaze. 

Don’t even think about it, he mouthed, glare set so deep in his eyes I wasn't sure his eye lids would peel off his face. 

One raise of my eyebrow told him I was up for the challenge. I could see his jaw clench, and that only made me want to push his buttons. 

I managed to break my vice hold on Cassian and look at Azriel from across the table. He had these lighter colored eyes, hazel I think. And a dark mess of hair. He wore a fitted black athletic tee, and black sweats with a Nike swoosh on the hip. I think I stared a little too long, cause when I looked back up at his face, he sent me a wink. 

I damn near gagged. He wishes. 

“And you’re engaged? That’s wonderful, Cassian. I am so happy for you,” Dana gushed while looking at Nesta’s ring. “Congratulations, you two. Do you have a date picked out?”

“No,” Nesta said sternly. “We are just going to wait things out. Until both of us feel ready.”

Cassian nodded, not offering up any words. 

“What would you guys like for dessert?” Rhys asked, listing off a few options. I stopped paying attention after chocolate cake because who would want to hear anything else?

“I’m afraid we better get on the road, it is a long drive back to our home. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious,” Arthur stood up from the table, shaking Rhys’s hand. “Cassian, a word, please?”

With a deep breath, Cassian stood up and followed the old man out of the room. 

“Okay, now that he’s gone, can we all agree that there is something wrong with him? I’ve never seen him so… so rigid in my life,” Mor blew out air from her lips, shaking her head. 

I offered a tad bit of insight. “Dana and Arthur are kind of fed up with me so they’re just gonna take off. And leave me here. But don’t worry, I’m just gonna find a bus stop in the morning and be gone before any of you wake up. No biggie.”

The room was silent except for my fork scratching on the plate. When I looked up, everyone was looking at me funny.

“Ira, what? They’re gonna leave you here?” Mor gasped.

“It is a long story. And they think I need a role model to get my life together. Why Cassian is that role model I’ll never understand because the last I knew of him he was just as irresponsible as I was.”

Rhys took a sip of wine, “How long has it been since you’ve seen each other?”

“Six years. But I mean you all probably know him better than I ever did so, might wanna ask that prick why he abandoned me.” I took a big piece of this chocolate cake into my mouth. “Fuck, this is good.”

“What happened?” Feyre prodded.

“We are lightyears away from you being able to ask that,” I laughed. “No offense but, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Again, the room was silent, except for a small snort at the end of the table. It wasn’t Elain because she was so red she looked like she was gonna pass out. And the only other one was Azriel. 

“Hint taken,” Rhys pressed his lips in a flat line. “Well, you are Cassian’s family, so you are always welcome in our home.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. I’ll figure it out, I always have. It’ll be like I was never here,” I took another forkful and shoved it in. Damn, I was gonna miss this cake. “So, Rhys, you own a casino and a hotel. What do the rest of you do?”

I’ll pretend like I care for my own amusement.  

“Well, Cassian runs the casino and hotel,” Rhys pointed out again. “Azriel owns and runs the adjacent club. We basically have our own empire here.”

“Sounds riveting,” I rolled my eyes. “What about you Mor.”

“I am the best fucking bartender this place has seen,” she grinned. “And I model here and there.” “Wonderful.” So she’s a princess. Got it. 

“I have an art studio. I teach classes and do some workshops,” Feyre said. “But most of the time I am at home with our son Nyx. He is… he’s a handful. A spoiled handful.”

“Hey,” Mor said, “to be fair, he is the first kid in our group, what did you expect?”

“He’s barely two, he doesn’t need designer clothes that he won’t fit into after a few months anyway. It's a waste of money.”

“Feyre, darling, I don’t know if you’ve looked around, but we kind of have a lot of money. It could use some wasting,” Rhys patted her thigh under the table. 

I can only hope to have enough financial security to be able to say sentences like that. They could probably retire right now, all of them, and never make a dent in their fortune. Lucky bastards. 

“What is it that you do, Ira?” Azriel poked his head from around Mor. 

“Oh,” I sputtered. What the hell was I supposed to say? Certainly the fact that I commit petty crimes won’t go over well. “I’ve had a lot of jobs. I don’t have a set career yet.”

“So hot-wiring cars is just a hobby then?” 

A stream of water shot out of Mor’s mouth and onto the table. How did he even hear that?

“It’s a skill. Don’t come crying to me when your battery dies and you don’t wanna pay a hundred and fifty dollars for AAA to come and pick up your ass,” I deflected. Another skill I had built up over the years. 

“And the locks?” Wow, he was kind of an asshole with supersonic hearing. I could see why he and Cassian hung around together. 

“I was a locksmith,” I mustered up my best smile and scooted my chair so I was sitting at an angle.

“Ah, so it wasn’t just the ‘cops and robbers’ you and Cassie used to play growing up. Good to know,” Azriel wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. He stood up, saying something about having to leave because he had to open up. 

Just as he was walking by, I stuck my toe into the walkway and he tripped over me. Azriel all but went through the wall, Cassian coming around at the last second and catching his arm. 

“You alright?” He asked as Azriel straightened himself out. 

“Yup. Fine.” The glare he gave me sent a smirk curling at my lips. Two can play that game, mother fucker. 

I, very gracefully, scratched the corner of my nose with my middle finger. He got the message. But so did Cassian.

“Your stuff is in the driveway. Go get it and meet me upstairs.” Cassian looked so pissed off. His shoulders were pinned to his ears again as he stalked away, that silence settling back in the room. 

“Guess that’s my cue to get a move on. Thank you everyone, a pleasure to meet you all,” I said with a genuine tone. They were all cool.  

The three duffle bags and backpack were not light as I carried them up the stairs, trying not to knock over all the decorations and pictures on the wall. One of them didn’t survive. It crashed all the way down and shattered on the hardwood floor. Cassian cursed from somewhere. 

With a thud, I let go of all the bags in some random room at the end of the hall. It was barely big enough to call a hobbit hole. There wasn’t a window or a real bed, just some cot with a pillow and a blanket. “Glamourous.”

“It’s the best that I could do,” Cassian all but rolled his eyes. 

“A couch would’ve been better,” I plopped down on the taught fabric, bouncing a little. “Sorry about the frame.” “It’s fine,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Ira I’m sorry about how I left you.” “Yeah well apologies don’t mean a fucking thing to me unless you fix it, Cassian,” I folded my arms over my chest. “And for the record, I would’ve understood if you would’ve just fucking told me what was going on. Instead, not only did you not tell me, you ghosted me.” I just blinked up at him, waiting for an explanation. “Well?”

Nothing. Not even a strangled breath. “I just had to.”

“That’s the best you can do? Are you seriously still that fucking thick in the head?” “I didn’t have a choice, Ira,” he shouted. 

“Yes,” I nodded. “You absolutely had a choice. You could’ve at least left me a fucking note with a number on it so I could talk to you. You were all I had, Cass. All I fucking had and you just disappeared. What did you expect me to do?”

Cassian shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I-I don’t know. I thought you’d get yourself together and make it out too. Build your own empire, like the one we have here.”

“In case you forgot, I didn’t get to finish school like you did.”

“Well that’s not my fault.”

The fucking nerve. I stood up, barely coming to his chest, and smacked him across the face. His head jerked to the side, and his mouth fell open. I shoved him into the wall on the other side of the hallway and he fell into it. 

“You are a piece of fucking shit Cassian.”

“Ira–” “Did you really think that I would end up alright without you there? Could you really be that fucking stupid?”

“I didn’t think that–”

“Of course you didn’t. You never have. You’ve only ever thought about yourself and what would benefit you. You never gave a shit about me, I was just a burden you couldn’t get rid of.” “That’s not true,” he gritted his teeth. 

“Tell me that I am not a constant reminder of dad. Or mom. Tell me.” I waited for a response. When nothing came, I felt the nausea roll through my body. “You are one sorry son of a bitch Cassian.”

“Jesus Ira you think I wanted to abandon you?” “You haven’t given me one other reason to believe anything different,” I was screaming now. I didn’t care if anyone else heard. “The last memory I have of you is seeing you packing a fucking bag and climbing out your window, what else am I supposed to believe about you?”

A door clicked open, and Azriel emerged. He looked at us with raised eyebrows. “Everything alright?” 

No, you fucking prick. 

“Just re-kindling our sibling rivalry,” I gave a mocking look, staring down Azriel. “Mind your own damn business. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Ira,” Cassian said, somewhat appalled. 

“Just fuck off, Cassian,” I waved my hand at him. “Like I said, I’ll be gone in the morning and you don’t ever have to worry about making it up to me again because you won’t be able to. Hope you are happy living in your perfect little bubble with your perfectly little circle. Hope they’re all more important to you than I ever was.”

I slammed the door shut quicker than he could get a response out, leaning against it. I hadn’t ever realized that I was shaking.

Whatever. Fuck him too. I don’t need Cassian. I haven’t needed him for the past six years. God, has it really been that long?

There was no use in unpacking so I just piled the bags in the corner of the room. And there was also nothing to do besides lay down simply because there wasn’t enough room to do anything else. 

Maybe when everyone has gone to sleep, or home, I’ll go sneak around. Take something just to piss him off. Nothing too valuable, but something really inconvenient like all the salt and pepper shakers or all the spoons. 

Or one of the Corvettes in the driveway.

My mind was racing with thoughts, but eventually I had fallen asleep because the sun was peeking through the crack under my door. I stirred and sat up, sighing loudly. 

I changed into a hoodie and some other jeans, slipping my jacket on knowing it'll be chilly. 

With far more precision, I made it downstairs to the front door. It unlocked easily, thankfully no alarm system went off. The crisp morning greeted me and I slipped out silently. 

Fuck, this driveway was long. Couldn’t they be normal and have a normal fucking sized driveway? It was so unnecessary. 

And of course there was nothing at the end of it. Just the road and nothing else. Not another house or anything. Who knows how far it could be until a bus station. Hopefully this place wasn’t filled with a bunch of weirdos and I wouldn’t get kidnapped. 

The thought of carrying all these bags for miles would tear up my back and shoulders. I didn’t have that much but… I needed all of it. 

“Ira!”

I whirled around and saw a Cassian shaped silhouette coming down the driveway. Oh great. 

“Come to demand I pay for the broken frame?” “Stay.”

What? “What?”

Cassian breathed heavily, “Stay. I-I am so sorry for what I said. And you’re right, I don’t ever think of anyone other than myself. And I’m sorry I never told you where I was going. I want to fix it, but I can’t if you don’t at least let me try.”

I dropped the bags, totally not believing what I was hearing. “And what if I don’t give a flying fuck if you want to or not?”

Cassian completely deflated. “Please, Ira. I made a promise to mom and dad that I would look after you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I don’t feel like a piece of shit for what I did. I miss you.”

So what if he made a promise to mom and dad? He made a promise to me. To always stick together. To always be there. He hung me out to dry before I even had a chance to notice. His apology means nothing. His desperation means nothing. 

I fucking hated Cassian. More than anything right now I wanted to watch him be boiled alive. Could he really even help me anyway? What was the fucking point of any of this? I was already humiliated, and dragging innocent people into my bullshit surely didn’t help. 

I sucked in a big breath, hiking my bag up on my shoulder, ready to bolt. “Why should I?”

“Because what other option do you realistically have?” 

“That is not fair,” I flare my nostrils. “You have no right to waltz back into my life and pretend you give a shit about me.”

“You were the one who was dropped on my doorstep,” Cassian pointed out, making my stomach drop. 

“You know, you’re doing a shit job at showing that you legitimately want me to stay, asshole.” I was getting a little angry. Good things did not happen when I felt betrayed. “And for the record, I tried to talk them out of bringing me here, but they went around me and got a fucking court order. So, whether you want to believe it or not, it was not my choice to be here. I can’t even go back with Dana and Arthur because there will be a warrant out for my arrest.”

“Shit…” Cassian dragged a hand over his face. “Ira I’m-”

“Sorry? I know. But you lost the privilege of my forgiveness long ago. It is gonna take a hell of a lot more than ‘I’m sorry’ to fix what you’ve done to me.”

“I know, I know,” Cassian softened his eyes and his voice, standing tall in front of me. “Just… give me something. Anything, and I will never betray you ever again.”

Should I believe him? I have no fucking idea what to do. All my senses are telling me to run and don’t look back, but that gaping pit in my stomach that formed when he left seems a little less… gaping.  

This was gonna be a rough fucking time. Nothing about this is going to be easy, but… he was right. I didn’t have another option. Prison, if I really was desperate, but I didn’t quite feel like losing all my basic human rights.

If he wanted me to stay, there were going to have to be some sacrifices on his end.

Maybe a little room for petty behavior. 

“I want a real fucking room.” I demanded

“Any one in the house.”

“I want yours.”

“Absolutely not,” Cassian furrowed his brow. “Plus, I don’t even live here anymore. Just Rhys, Feyre and Nyx. Nesta, Azriel and I live in the next town.”

“So what, you all just visit together and pretend to be a big happy family?” I scoffed, kicking a stone. 

“We don’t pretend, Ira,” he didn’t say it rudely, but more matter of fact-ly. And he looked at me like I had never known what a family was. I guess he forgot that when he left it kind of ruined me. Or again maybe he just didn’t care what it would do to me back then. 

Cassian looked sad. Not depressed or upset, just sad. 

“Your room or I’m gonna walk away right now.” There was no room for negotiating in my voice. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but with a sigh he gave in. 

“Fine, you can have my room,” Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Actually it was. I spent weeks designing that room. All for it to go to fucking waste.”

“Sucks to suck I guess,” I smirked, shouldering two of my bags. I took a long, non-rage-filled look at my brother. Man… he looked so different. Six years is a long time to not see someone. 

I gotta make this work. “I’m gonna work hard, you know. I’m tired of always being in the fucking mud.”

“Yup. Me too.” Nice, asshole. “You’re going to have to follow some rules and check in. This isn’t going to be a free-for-all, you’re gonna have a curfew.”

“A curfew? What am I, thirteen?”

“Until you can prove to me that you’re not gonna go and rob a bank, yes, you’ll have a curfew,” Cassian picked up my other bags and started walking back to the house. “We’re gonna find you a job because I will not be funding your operation.”

“What happened to ‘we have a lot of money. It could use some wasting’?”

“Rhys wasn’t wrong,” Cassian said. “But just because we have it doesn’t mean you get access to it.”

“Jeez, sorry I brought it up, grumpy pants. And what kind of rules anyway?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Some of us like to get a full eight hours of sleep every day so I am going back to bed. You’re not allowed to leave the house until I say so, so find something to do.”

“Or someone,” I whispered to myself. But Cassian heard. “A joke.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you eye fucking Azriel,” Cassian practically gagged. “That is one of your rules. You are not allowed to be engaged with him in any type of way. The last thing he needs right now is you.”

“Right to the heart. And please, I could do better.” That part was debatable for sure. 

“I mean it, he’s been through a lot the past year and a half. It took him a long time to get to where he is and I won’t let you ruin it for him,” Cassian said possessively. “He, along with everyone else, is my family. Fuck with them and you’re dealing with me.” “News flash, buddy, so am I. We share the same DNA, and hair and eyes according to everyone else on the fucking planet.”

“Ira, I’m serious. If you fuck around with Azriel and I find out I sweat to–”

“Jesus, calm down Vengeance. Gotham is safe from the Joker,” I followed him inside, clicking the door shut behind me. “I won’t get involved with Azriel.”

“Good.”

He carried the bags to his car, telling me we’d make it to his house sometime in the afternoon. After that? I just… wandered. I looked in the kitchen, grabbing an orange and a few granola bars from the pantry. I slipped out the back door to the pool and sat on one of the lounge chairs. 

The sunrise was full of oranges and golds. Much different from the other sunrises I’m used to up on the roof. The soft wind blew the water in the pool, making gentle lapping noises. I closed my eyes. Stretched my legs. 

I’ve gotta be careful or I might get used to this. 

I know the ending of this book. Read these pages, seen the titles. It’s gonna be no fucking different. I’ll give it the good ol’ college try, but it’s never gonna fucking work. I’ll do something stupid, piss off the wrong person and Cassian will kick me to the curb. Just a waiting game. 

Nothing I can do about it, so I might as well see where fate takes me.

[ranticore]

If pelagic phocids are carnivores, how does one survive in a desert? I assume by trading food because I doubt they would find it easy to hunt

Mysterious Traveller does have to stick by a water source otherwise their cloak would dry out and that'd be bad news for any phocid, but it means they can fish. There are rivers in dry bowl and some are large enough to support small clans of inland selkies.. the presence of even one singular pelagic phocid would put a strain on river macroinvert communities, though. especially one who is travelling on foot and expending considerable effort to walk with a body designed instead for efficient swimming. imagine if you had to do the worm to get around instead of walking i think you'd get pretty tired pretty fast and need a refuel

Phocids in their home range (the sea) use any imaginable fishing technique but spiral pelagics are especially adept spear fishers so I guess that'd be the go-to option at the riverside. I'm imagining a bear in a salmon run type set up, facing downstream in a riffle zone and then just stabbing whenever something appears. It's possible but likely wouldn't meet their nutritional needs for an extended period of time

But yeah most food will come from trade or barter, and that can be quite distant from the river lands. The most common groups to encounter in the dry bowl are landstriders who farm these unnamed (so far) bugs which can find buried plants (the landstriders mostly eat plants). the bugs' meat is a good option for a wandering phocid. As for what the landstriders get in return - the traveller offers a service to them in exchange for provisions. I was thinking of the same time period as my landstrider character pem-pem, pre-enlightenment, and that's also pre-reinvention of money, so barter with goods and services is what we're working with

[pixiefelixie]

remake?

pairing — idol!seungmin x f!reader

word count — 2.7k

warnings — she/her reader, so fluffy

summary — on a chilly winter morning, seungmin was scrolling on his phone when he was met with a picture of you two from last winter. longing filled his heart as he revisited that memory.

On a winter morning blanketed by flurries that had begun overnight, Seungmin planned to rest in the warmth of his home, away from the duties of work. His members did as well, finding themselves relaxing after all their effort. Meanwhile, Minho was whipping up waffles with his brand new waffle machine, while Jeongin and Felix lingered in their beds, engrossed in their phones instead of actually getting up.

Having enjoyed a refreshing morning shower, Seungmin settled onto the living room couch. He was casually flipping through his photo gallery, deleting a cluster of useless memes and screenshots, in order to tidy up some space that his phone desperately needed. His browsing suddenly came to a pause when he stumbled upon a picture from last winter.

He clicked on it to expand it, when he realised it showed a moment shared between him and you next to Han River. The snow was falling from the sky and it was fairly bright, similarly to the weather today. Your hands were gently resting on his shoulders as his encircled your waist like you two were about to start a ballroom dance.

As Seungmin looked at the picture, memories of that day flooded back. He remembered walking with you in Riverside Park, the snow crunching beneath his feet. The park looked magical with snow on the trees and the frozen river glistening. He could feel the warmth of your hand in his, hear your laughter as snow frosted your eyelashes.

"No, Seungmin, don't let go of my hand!" You cried out as you were slipping and sliding on the icy path.

"What if I do?" he teased, trying to steady himself as well.

"I'll be doomed! I'll die!" you exclaimed, fear evident in your voice.

"You won't die, Y/n. But if I trip, we'll both go down if you keep on holding me like this" he chuckled.

"But if it's me that trips, you'll catch me, right?" you asked hopefully.

With a playful grin, Seungmin replied, "No promises," his tone light but reassuring. "We'll be off the ice soon. Just try not to slip until then."

With a shaky nod, trying to trust in his words, you felt a sudden slip under your feet. With a yelp, you stumbled forward, but Seungmin swiftly linked his arm with yours, keeping you steady. Relief washed over you as you looked up at him, processing how quickly he had reacted to prevent you from falling.

His face was just only an inch from yours, and you couldn't help but smile at the realization that he had caught you, even though he had been joking about it moments before. Seungmin's eyes met yours, concern evident in his gaze as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You nodded, unable to find the words to express your thoughts in that moment. Seungmin stood up straight, now holding onto your waist for support as you both carefully made your way off the last few steps of the icy path and onto the grippy, firm snow.

With a grateful smile, you looked up at Seungmin, realizing just how lucky you were to have him by your side. And in that moment, surrounded by the winter beauty of the park, you couldn't help but feel a warmth in your heart that was a stark contrast to the weather.

As Seungmin pointed towards the frozen river, he said, "Look at the river, baby."

You followed his gaze and remarked, "It's all frozen."

Seungmin pondered aloud, "I wonder if we could walk` on it."

You shook your head, a hint of worry in your voice. "We could fall through," you cautioned.

Seungmin reassured you with a playful smile, "I'm only joking." Relieved, you let out a sigh.

You both walked with linked arms over to a gazebo nearby in which the roof was covered in snow. However, people were still sitting by it on the cold benches. Finding a spot beside it, you settled onto a bench together. It was a good bench with a good view, offering a clear view of the icy river.

With your hands in your pockets to shield them from the cold, Seungmin gently took them out. As he noticed how red they were, he breathed warm air onto them, causing you to smile at his sweet gesture. The warmth of his breath and his touch made the chilly winter day feel a lot warmer.

You then playfully declared, "Your turn!" Taking his hands in yours, you brought them close and breathed warm air onto them, just as he had done for you. Seungmin giggled as you then started to pepper light kisses on his hands. As you intertwined your fingers with his, a gentle smile graced your lips, and you leaned into him.

Seungmin followed suit, resting his head against yours. Together, you watched as children laughed and played in the snow, their joy infectious even from a distance. The scene was serene, with people strolling by, bundled up against the winter chill.

"I love you, Y/n," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you turned to him, meeting his gaze with love. "I love you too, Seungmin," you replied.

As you nestled closer together, the gentle snowfall creating a calming backdrop, a comfortable silence enveloped you. But soon, Seungmin broke the silence with a question. "What's your favorite winter memory?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You pondered for a moment before a fond smile tugged at your lips. "I think it would be from when I was a child," you began, your voice laced with nostalgia. "My family used to take me to go ice skating on the frozen pond near our house. It was always such a magical experience, gliding across the ice under the twinkling stars. On a warmer day, I fell through the ice since it wasn't thick enough. I never went back after that."

"I'm sorry for joking about it, baby," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. "I didn't know."

You reached out to reassure him, offering a small smile. "It's okay, Seungmin," you replied, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Let's make new winter memories together," you said with a smile. "Starting with today."

Seungmin returned your smile. "I'd like that," he replied.

Your boyfriend then leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway, the warmth of his lips against yours sending a thrill through your body. You felt his grip on your hand tighten as you both leaned into each other, drawing closer until you were chest to chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing your own.

Pulling away slightly, you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with love. But before you could say anything, Seungmin leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a light, tender kiss.

As Seungmin savored the sweetness of the moment, he felt so free to be out on a date without any of his staff. It was one of the best things about winter—the flurries swirling around, everyone bundled up against the cold, creating a sense of privacy since no one bothered to look his way.

During other seasons, everything seemed to be out in the open, and everyone could recognize him as an idol. But in winter, it felt like no one was watching, and you two could just be a normal couple, free to be yourselves without any pressure or scrutiny.

Suddenly, Seungmin got an idea. "I wanna take a photo together," he exclaimed, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Sure!" you replied eagerly, matching his enthusiasm.

You both got up, and you ran ahead, feeling the snowflakes melt on your hand as Seungmin set up his phone on a ledge of the gazebo. He flipped the phone so the back camera was facing you, and then clicked on the timer.

As you stood waiting, watching the snowflakes dance around you, Seungmin dashed towards you, grabbing you by the waist. You smiled and placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

But just as the photo was about to be taken, the phone slipped from the ledge and fell into the snow. You both pulled away, a sense of disappointment washing over you.

"Oh no," you murmured, seeing the phone had landed with the camera facing downwards, capturing only the snowy ground.

Seungmin sighed as he retrieved the phone, noticing snow had seeped into the speaker. But he quickly shrugged it off, determined to try again.

"It'll work this time," he reassured you with a grin.

You nodded, feeling hopeful as Seungmin set up the phone once more, this time with extra care. As he ran over to you, you both kept a careful eye on the phone, ensuring it didn't slip again. As he kissed you, you tried to recreate the pose from before, counting down from ten in your heads.

When you thought the picture had been taken, Seungmin ran over with a giddy smile, ready to check the result. Anticipation filled the air as he glanced at his phone, then his smile quickly faded into a frown.

"What happened?" you asked, concern coloring your tone.

"I think I forgot to change it to the back camera," Seungmin admitted, disappointment evident in his voice.

Stepping closer, you looked at the photo on his phone, seeing it captured the inside of the gazebo instead of the direction of the Han River.

Looking back at Seungmin, you could see the disappointment in his eyes. He sighed again, but then mustered a small smile. "Well, third time's the charm, right?" he said, trying to remain optimistic.

"Right," you agreed, nodding in agreement. But then an idea struck you. "Wait, Seungmin," you said, stopping him before he went to set up the phone again.

"Yeah?" he responded, turning to face you.

"Wanna ask someone to take it for us?" you suggested. "It's less of a hassle, and it'll turn out better."

Seungmin hesitated. "But won't people see me?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Well, it's not like everyone here could recognize you at first glance, right?" you pointed out, sticking close to him.

"Yeah, you're right," Seungmin agreed, feeling reassured.

"Let's see," you said, scanning the area. "What about that boy over there?" You pointed at a wealthy-looking teenager wearing headphones and a North Face puffer, chewing bubblegum while scrolling on his phone with a swagger to his walk.

Seungmin hesitated. "I don't know, he's a teenager, so he might know me. Plus, he looks like he's bad at taking photos."

"Okay, then," you conceded.

"What about the elderly lady there?" Seungmin pointed at a little old woman walking along the sidewalk with a cane and a scarf covering her whole face.

"I don't know," You replied. "I don't think we should bother her."

"True," He agreed, looking around for another option. Finally, you spotted your target—a dad walking hand in hand with a small girl who looked around 7 or 8 years old.

"What about him?" you suggested, tugging Seungmin towards the dad. "He's a dad, and dads don't know you."

"Are you sure?" Seungmin asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," you confirmed, taking Seungmin's phone and approaching the man with a smile. As you walked up to them, you noticed the dad smiling and laughing with his little girl. When they both looked your way, you greeted them politely.

"Hi, sir! Do you mind taking a photo of my boyfriend and me? We're having a bit of trouble," you explained, Seungmin standing behind you, following your lead.

The dad's face lit up with a smile. "Of course," he replied warmly, his little girl waving at you both. You waved back, and as Seungmin joined you, the girl's excitement seemed to double.

"Appa, he's one of the guys that my big sister on TV!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

The dad looked at Seungmin in surprise. "You know me?" Seungmin asked, touched by the girl's recognition.

She nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm infectious. Seungmin couldn't help but be charmed by her. Normally, he would've been panicked that someone recognized him. However, in this situation, he couldn't help but feel as if his heart was warming up.

Curious, the dad asked, "What do you do?"

"I work in music," Seungmin replied modestly.

The dad's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, that's impressive! Even both my daughters know you," he remarked, impressed.

Seungmin thanked him sincerely, and you chuckled at the interaction between them.

As you handed Seungmin the phone, you both positioned yourselves by the Han River, with the dad following suit and the little girl holding onto her dad's pants, watching with eager anticipation. You leaned in close to Seungmin, whispering, "Kissing in front of the child?"

Seungmin lightly shook his head, a silent agreement passing between you. You nodded and positioned yourselves, your noses barely touching, sharing a tender moment as the dad readied the camera.

"Ready?" he asked, and you both nodded eagerly.

But as the dad counted down, a tickling sensation tingle at your noses, and you couldn't help but giggle. As the laughter bubbling up inside both of you, the dad snapped the photo.

"Okay, done!" he announced.

As you both rushed over to see the result, you gasped in amazement when you saw the photo. Excitedly, you showed it to Seungmin, who mirrored your gasp of delight.

"Thank you so much, it turned out so well," Seungmin expressed his gratitude to the dad.

"No problem, it was nice meeting you," he replied warmly. "Say bye," he instructed the little girl, who waved before they walked away.

Seungmin looked at you, noticing how you were staring at the phone in awe. "Lemme see it again," he requested, and as you handed him the phone, he smiled, "It's beautiful."

Seungmin held the phone, admiring the photo once more. In the image, your hands rested on his shoulders while his encircled your waist. Your noses were pressed together, laughter evident in your expressions. Flurries danced in the air, the Han River visible in the background, along with footsteps in the snow. It was a perfect snapshot of your love and joy in that moment.

"It's perfect," Seungmin said, smiling at you. "This moment, right here, it's everything."

You smiled back, feeling a rush of love for him. This photo would be a cherished memory for both of you.

Back in the present, Seungmin set his phone aside, the memories of that day still lingering in his mind. With a contented sigh, he leaned back on the couch, feeling grateful for the warmth of his home and the peacefulness of the moment.

Leaning against the glass, Seungmin sighed softly as he watched the snowflakes drift gracefully to the ground, each one uniquely intricate in its design. It was the kind of picturesque scene that made him wish he could capture another moment with you, just like the one from the previous winter day.

Lost in thought, he wondered what you might be doing at that very moment. Perhaps you were curled up with the book he had gifted you for your birthday, lost in its pages and escaping into another world. Or maybe you were nestled in your bed, the one he always found more comfortable than his own, enjoying a well-deserved rest. Then again, there was also the possibility that you were at your favorite café, diligently studying and savoring a warm beverage.

With a wistful smile, Seungmin imagined you in each scenario, his heart warmed by the mere thought of you. Despite the physical distance between you two, he found solace in knowing that, wherever you were, you were carrying a piece of him with you.

Feeling the weight of his longing, Seungmin couldn't resist the urge to reach out to you. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he unlocked his phone, finding the photo he had been obsessing over. As he sent it to you, a surge of anticipation bubbled within him, his heart racing at the mere thought of recreating that special moment together.

With fingers trembling ever so slightly, he typed out the simple yet loaded question: "Remake?" He hit send and then tossed his phone to the other side of the couch, like a teenage girl nervously sending her first text to her crush.

[fionaapplerocks]

SFJ: Where’d you go to school?

FA: From second grade until ninth grade I went to this place St. Hilda’s and St. Hugh’s School, which is on 114th and Riverside. I have really good memories of that school; I think it was a great place. Really small, and really a diverse group of kids—lots of exchange students went there for some reason. It’s an Episcopalian school, but nobody even knew what Episcopalian meant. I still don’t know what Episcopalian means. We went to chapel every morning and had Eucharist every Wednesday. There were nuns that taught there, but, strangely, it didn’t feel like it was a religious school.

SFJ: So what happened in ninth grade?

FA: My dad lived in Venice, and I went out to spend a year to live with him, and I went to Hamilton High for one year, in California. That was an awful year. St. Hilda’s goes from nursery to twelfth [8th] grade, and there were three hundred kids in the whole school. Hamilton had five thousand kids for high school. At St. Hilda’s, that small amount of kids, from all over the world, all different religious, and it wasn’t ever an issue. Going out to L.A., it was like five thousand kids. The quad was the most segregated place I had ever seen. I didn’t know where to go. It was a terrible year. I couldn’t really find any friends that stuck.

SFJ: And that was tenth grade?

FA: Yeah, that was tenth grade. Then, I came back to New York and went to this place called Rhodes, which was a night school, and they used the building of the Dwight School, on 89th. I was a receptionist at the Dwight School during the day, and then, when they shut down, then Rhodes was at night. Rhodes was ridiculous. There was maybe twenty kids that went there. It was the only place I could go to because by the time I realized I was miserable in California—I didn’t have very good grades to begin with—it was hard to get into a school, and it was like, “Oh, Rhodes’ll take me.” Everybody that was at Rhodes was those kids that like no one else would take them. And all the teachers that worked there—it wasn’t like they were bad teachers, but everybody that worked there they were doing it to get extra money. They were teaching a class at night, because they needed the money. Nobody was really invested in it at all; everybody kind of had to be there. It was ridiculous. It was like, “Do your homework? What?” The classes were an hour and a half, and you’d have forty-five minutes, and then a fifteen-minute break, and then another forty-five minutes. On fifteen-minute break, everybody would go outside and smoke pot. There was no second forty-five minutes ever, and you’d be sitting out on the stoop and the teachers would be like, “Come back into class.” and you’d be like, “Why?” It was that kind of place. And then they closed down.

SFJ: So things kind of went downhill after ninth grade.

FA: And then after that, for my senior year, I went back to California, to this place called Poseidon, which was a home school. It was actually a school for people with emotional problems, and I was really lucky to get in. I didn’t graduate, though, because they require you to take driver’s ed, and I hadn’t done that.

Excerpt from interview by Sasha Frere-Jones—September 16th 2005 at the W Hotel and September 18th 2005 at Café Botanica in the Essex Hotel.

[pavus]

i was tagged by the lovely and effervescent @rosenfey to do this uquiz for my ocs, and i thought! hey! this is a great opportunity to do a lore dump about ippolita! so that's what all of this nonsense is. 🖤

patron saint of lost faith — patron saint of leaving it by the roadside. patron saint of it slipping out of your fingers. patron saint of searching and searching. patron saint of yearning for it back. patron saint of scraping your fingers down to the bone trying to hold onto it. patron saint of losing it anyway. saint of lost faith. not the saint of getting it back.

ippolita cabrielli (eventually, ippolita de riva or ippolitta dellamorte, depending upon the date of reference) was born smack in the middle of 9:25 dragon, not long before the fifth blight. her father, filippo, worked as a dyemaker for a renowned vendecolori just outside of antiva city, in a small, riverside town called alivia.

not once did her father speak of her mother. only her paternal grandmother spoke of the woman at all, and every time she brought up her existence, filippo flinched like he'd been struck. there was a story there, but it wasn't hers to learn.

when she was barely ten, she watched the vendecolori's even younger son drown in one of her father's dye vats. not long after that, she was taken from him as payment for what he allowed to transpire.

after a confusing few weeks, she was offered to the crows for a surprisingly hefty sum, and not long after, she began the rigorous and often excruciating training required of crow fledglings. ippolita proved to have a somewhat innate talent in acrobatics, but her true skill was in observation. she did not just pick up useful information, but she picked up voices and affectations that would have made her something of a mimic, if not for the high pitch of her childish voice.

became an official crow at eighteen. during the celebration that followed, she engaged in a brief (and very drunk) tryst with illario dellamorte. she's forgotten; he hasn't.

when she was barely nineteen, she was tossed to the lions rather than the wolves. her first foreign contract was in far-flung serault. for a time, she posed as a soft-spoken washerwoman for the city's floundering chantry. kill the leader of the cult of masked andraste, she was told. and kill them, she did.

subsequent contracts left her circling around orlais, and with every finished contract, she waited, wondering when she would be brought home.

she was twenty-three when she returned to antiva — not to antiva city, where she'd received most of her training, but to not-yet-occupied treviso. and for five of the years that followed, she continued making a name for herself under the mantle of house de riva.

ippolita is a drowner. whether it's in a canal, a bath, or a particularly deep puddle, it's her go-to method of assassination. it isn't all she's capable of, but it's how she prefers to kill. otherwise, she has a particularly nasty stiletto that makes its way into the rest of her marks.

found a number of letters from an anonymous admirer upon her return to treviso. someone had been paying attention to her work while she was away. she still doesn't know who wrote them. the romantic in her has kept them for years and delights every time she finds a new one in her apartment.

loves music and has a lovely singing voice, though she couldn't play a note herself. there is little in the world that enraptures her like agile fingers on lute strings.

horribly allergic to cats.

would rather starve than eat rice and the smell of onions fried in butter makes her nauseated. eat something enough, and you find you cannot stand the taste.

she stands at an absolutely miniscule 4'11, but is powerfully built. she is small, but strong and fat around her belly and hips and ass. there's no knocking her over. varric thought she was a dwarf until he caught a glimpse of her ears.

[poppitron360]

Lost Trio Week- Day 1: “Wilderness”

@lost-trio-week

GLEESON HEDGE, STATUS REPORT 09/07:

As reluctant as I am to be posted at this backwater dumping ground of a school, I am pleased to inform you that I have been keeping a close eye on the new students here.

No clear suspected Half-Bloods yet, but I’m still getting adjusted to the smell of this place. I’ll sniff ‘em out sooner or later, don’t you worry.

GLEESON HEDGE, STATUS REPORT 09/21:

A particular girl has caught my eye as a potential demigod. Name’s Piper Mclean, daughter of famous movie star Tristan Mclean. Daddy paid a lot of money to shove her here. Known kleptomaniac, has a scary-good way with words. Last week, she suggested a specific place to shove my baseball bat, and she sounded so persuasive I was almost convinced to do it… I didn’t, though. But I almost did. Powerful stuff.

No mother that we know of, which is a good sign. Probably dyslexic, too, if her worksheets are anything to go by. I’ve put her through the wringer in gym class, and she’s lasted well. Indications of enhanced speed and strength.

I’ll keep an eye out for any others, and will report back soon.

GLEESON HEDGE, STATUS REPORT 09/30:

I’ve been watching closely to see who Mclean keeps company with. Demigods tend to gravitate towards each other.

She’s made friends with this delinquent boy, Leo Valdez. Mother died when he was small, has spent the last seven years between foster homes, correctional schools, and the missing persons’ registry. No father on record. Diagnosed ADHD. Definite Half-Blood smell.

He’s a smart one- got a good knack with gadgets. He reprogrammed my megaphone last week. He’s also a troublemaker. Him and McLean are always up to mischief, doing my goatly head in. I fear Cabin 11 should get a bunk ready.

In other news, I’ve started to sniff the scent of a monster, perhaps masquerading as one of the students. But it could just be the axe body spray some of the kids wear. When can you get me outta here?

— — — — — — — — —

GLEESON HEDGE, MISSION LOG 12/19:

Today, I woke up in a canary cage.

Jason, Leo, and Piper have apparently been on this valiant mission to rescue me from the clutches of the storm spirits. With their top priority out of the way, the four of us are now on a quest to rescue Hera.

After me and Jason bravely fought off King Midas (back from the dead, by the way), narrowly escaping danger within an inch of our lives, we made it safely to the riverside, where we are now attempting to douse Mclean and Valdez who have been unfortunately gold-ified. More to report soon.

— — — — — — — — —

GLEESON HEDGE, MISSION LOG 07/18:

One month into our voyage on the Argo II. Iris messages are becoming few and far between as we get further and further away from home.

I spent my day helping Valdez with one of his damned “projects”. He’s been all over this ever since he found those Archimedes stuff under Rome. I don’t understand it.

Kid’s been anxious. I can tell. I can’t blame him, considering how much he’s got on his shoulders. I know he feels guilty about what happened to Percy and Annabeth. I’ve been trying my best to console him, but I think he thinks it’s pity. The best I can do is help him out with his stuff, keep him smiling, and make sure he remembers to eat.

Jason and Piper saved me a job today, as they came in at around midday with some food for him. The three of them really seem to care for each other. In my 107 years of living, a sight like that is always nice to see.

I patrolled the deck in the evening, with the help of the Di Angelo boy. He puts on a mean exterior, but he’s a sweet kid, and was eager to help me out when he saw me patrolling on my own. I’m not as skilled an empath as some of the other Satyrs at Camp, but it doesn’t take much to feel the waves of pain coming from the boy. After going through Tartarus on his own, and then being trapped in that jar… I can understand why he acts closed off. I would, too.

It won’t be long until we reach the House of Hades. Soon, this will all be over.

— — — — — — — — —

Dear Chuck,

You are one week old today. I look into your eyes, and I see so much joy, so much wonderment, so much love for the world. I hope you never come to know how cruel life can be.

Today, I went to a kid’s funeral.

The aftermath of the battle hit both camps hard. Many demigods lost their lives. A few of them I knew, a few I didn’t. One of them struck me more than most.

As I watched the shroud of the Half-Blood I’d sworn to protect go up in flames, I thought about that joy, that love for the world in your eyes. Leo Valdez was a brave boy, but I could tell he’d had a hard life. I never want you to experience the pain he went through.

There’s talk he might still be out there. I’ve heard rumour that the Seven managed to acquire a physician’s cure, but I’m sceptical. I don’t think anyone could have survived that explosion, not even a son of Hephaestus. But Leo’s a fighter. He’s strong, and I just hope he’s strong enough to make it through.

He gave up his life only a few hours after you were born. He was only sixteen, and even though that’s a lot compared to our lifespan, it’s still so young. Too young.

You will grow up in a safer world because of his sacrifice. I want you to remember that.

I was his protector. And I failed him. I promise I will not fail you.

Love,

Papa xxx

— — — — — — — — —

Dear Clarisse,

I’m not sure if you’ll get this with coms down, but the primitive mortal postage system seems to be a bit more reliable than the usual forms of contact. I did manage to receive your letter last week.

Yes, Mellie is recovering nicely- now four months post-partum! Little Chuck has begun teething (so if this letter is a little chewed up, that’s why). He’s hitting all his milestones and is well on his way to being a healthy little boy. You should see his little face when he tried tin cans for the first time!

On a sadder note, the search for Valdez still turns up nothing. Piper’s close to giving up, but Jason, bless his bleating heart is still adamant that the boy’s out there. If you ask me, it’s putting a strain on their relationship. They’ve been fighting more and more. I’d be surprised if they make it ‘til Christmas.

I wish I could be a glass-half-full kinda goat, but as it’s been four months since Leo disappeared, and with no sign aside from that initial message, I hate to admit it but I’m losing hope. And I can’t help but feel like I’m responsible. I was his protector. I could’ve done more to stop it.

There’s something suspicious going on over here in Southern California. Jason and Piper are looking into it, but until we know more, there’s nothing I can really report.

Work as Mr Mclean’s life coach is same as usual.

How is University of Arizona? Are you blending in with mortals enough? If anyone gives you crap, I can beat them up for you.

Lots of Love,

Hedge.

— — — — — — — — —

GLEESON HEDGE, STATUS REPORT 04/02:

Jason Grace is dead.

If Grover managed to get home before this letter did, you probably already know.

Leo Valdez finally made it to us, with news of the siege at Camp Jupiter. It’s not looking good. Apollo is heading over there to fight.

Leo seems relatively unharmed considering his brief death.

That’s now two demigods that have died under my protection, despite Valdez’s resurrection.

I will be escorting the Mcleans to their new residence in Oklahoma, and will continue to serve under the guise of Mr Mclean’s life coach, keeping a close eye on Piper and Leo while they’re away from camp. After the war and the fight with the Triumvirate, I don’t think they can take any more onslaught from monsters. I’ll keep them safe, don’t worry.

— — — — — — — — —

GLEESON HEDGE, STATUS REPORT 09/01:

I saw Leo and Piper off on their first day at New Rome University today.

I’m glad we got that minor issue of having blown up the city out of the way in time for Valdez to start his freshman year. That kid’s got a bright future ahead of him.

Sometimes I hate being an empath. There was a bittersweet aura around us all, remembering the friends who never got to make it this far.

Nobody said Jason’s name. But I could feel it.

I’m glad these two get a second chance. A chance to keep living. They’re lucky that way.

I hope they do okay there. I really do. I’m gonna miss those two.

Now that they are securely out of harm’s way in the city, I think it’s safe to say that they are no longer under my protection.

And I think it’s time I retire.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Happy Lost Trio Week!!!

Day One and off to a great start! I am so excited for this week and can’t wait to read all y’all’s fics and see your fanart when I get back from Hiatus.

Some bits with the timeline are probably wrong. I went of Fandom Wikipedia as there’s not much Coach Hedge stuff across the books, but they don’t deal in exact dates (I had to write the dates the wonky American way for the sake of realism but just know that it pained me to do so).

Thanks to @demigod-shenanigans for helping me out with this. The hcs really helped.

I love Hedge. I really do. And I think his relationship with the Lost Trio is super sweet. He does care for them, despite how much of a liability he seems. The fact that Leo died the same day his kid was born is never brought up.

Something a little different to what other people might be doing, I hope. I know it’s not “technically” lost trio but Coach Hedge is the unofficial 4th member and he doesn’t get enough recognition. And showing the Lost Trio through his eyes was quite fun.

@euryvices-deactivated20241019 @deciduowl @lavenderfairiez @ottpopfic @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @123letsgobestie @kaleidoskuls @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom @thetourturedwritersclub @m-for-now

[oceansarepink]

Octavias Escape ☆

< Rewritten >

After several painful weeks of absence, her father finally came home. For the second time, he changed everything for the worse. She had tried so hard to take back control from him, her mother, her uncle, that imp, to stop anyone from dying. But couldn’t.

Things will never be the same. She will never be the same.

Octavia takes her backpack, her map, and flees from what used to be “home.” She can never come back from what she has seen, what her family has done. What she had to do to end it all. She leaves.

Her father formerly called forth the harvest moon here. At a festival he never invited her to, but enjoyed with his preferred company: obedient imps. Including the man he was sleeping with, the man he chose over family. The man who made him feel free, from her, and everything she represented.

Here, it’s safe, it’s quiet, it’s slow paced, and it’s the same every year. Nobody knows anyone from the outside, and nobody cares about titles here. Only raw strength. A place called wrath. She asks her book to take her there, and it portals her to a riverside. Using these new and terrifying powers, she surrounds herself and her camp with a ring jagged protective ice.

Come night, a lone cowboy with piercing ringed eyes and a shrouded face approaches this turbulent ice storm of a girl. He doesn’t look her way, only takes a vial of water from the river. The stranger hesitantly speaks only to let her know that if a flaming twister comes along, that ice sheet will do no good. She should go to the abandoned mines, where it’s sheltered, and no one will bother her. And if she’s hiding from someone, then that’s the place to go. Octavia says nothing. She feels like he can see through her, the same way she can normally see right through everyone else. Striking the very terrified heart of her.

Instead of waiting for the inevitable storm, she takes shelter where he said to go. She feels lost, but feels him watching from above. He stays close, observing her. She addresses him for the first time only to ask if he’s hiding from someone, and he doesn’t answer.

They do get talking. He tells her he’s a bad man, and he has done monstrous things, not to be too trusting of him. Or anyone in wrath. This doesn’t scare her, her father has already taught her that as a Goetia, people only want her money and her body. But honesty is the only important thing, so she feels grateful for it. Maintains her guard. She replies that she hates a 'liar with good intentions'. They reminds her of her father. He replies that he might be someone who tells the truth with bad intentions. That reminds her of mother. She doesn’t know which is worse.

At night in the mines, she conceals herself in ice. When she wakes, she finds some tinned food, pate? A warm looking poncho, and a neon sign glowing nearby her, that wasn’t there before. After a few nights, she talks to the stranger more and more. Assumes it's the cowboy who is leaving things there. He tells her about the flaming storms, wars, that wrathian mines and farms are all he knows, that these mines were for procuring metals to make steel for the city, and phosphates for the fancy eye makeup she’s wearing. When she asks him about the harvest moon festival, he grows quiet, says he knows nothing about that. Instead she asks if he likes animals since he was an old farm hand. He smiles and says he knows all about that.

He takes her to the plains outside where his horse is feeding. Octavia loves animals more than anything, not like the plants her father adores. Adored. They have died since then. She thinks this carnivorous stallion is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. Bombproof takes a liking to her as well.

She thanks the man for the food but asks why he’s helping her. He claims to have no idea what she’s talking about, says that scavengers must have hid a stash there, and she just found it. She thanks him anyway. For not stealing it first. He tells her she’s a perplexing Goet—a perplexing girl.

After this night, he eventually would tell her he knows her mother, and he does know a little about the Harvest Moon Festival. He thinks she will hate him one day when she learns of it, that she has the right to, but he’s sorry. That would be the last time she would ever see him.

For now though: The sky of stars in wrath is just breathtaking. She has never seen a sky like it outside of her father’s hallucinations. It’s incredible. He agrees. Says he could never live in any other place, especially a dirty metal city without clean air. She recounts the day she went to see Azathoths tears but because of just that, the view, it was lost to her. The city was a poison haze. She realises that with a now mortal father, she will never have a second chance to watch the meteor shower with him, 1,000 years from now.She begins to cry.

The stranger says nothing. Gives her the space. He says to himself “a kid needs clarity: clean air”

It’s something she will never forget.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This would be a hard NO for me. Every damned time you have to go out, you need to get in the boat and go across?

So, this is also your land, separated by just enough water to make it crazy. Secure the boat and climb the ladder. That's your shed and driveway. Could this be any more inconvenient? Say you need a new fridge. Do the delivery men put it in the boat and the rest is your problem?

Then you sail across the way back to your dock, that's falling apart. Can, you imagine if you just have to pop out for something, or go for a pizza?

Your cute home. Can you imagine doing this everyday to go to work, get the kids to school? Skate across when it freezes. This is a 1987 build in Amityville, NY, famous for the Amityville Horror. Has 3bds, 2ba, asking $535K. Well, let's go inside.

The owners have already moved out. Wonder how that went. They left the fridge, of course, and must've given up when it came to these chairs and rug. So the living room is nice. Funny, this is the only glimpse of the kitchen and the fridge is in the living room. I suspect foul play.

Has doors to the deck.

Up on the 2nd level there's an open room like a loft. Has a nice skylight. Is that a dehumidifier they left?

This bedroom has original flooring.

This one also has an original floor and a view of the deck. House is plain, I wish it had more charm.

Bath #1. What is the photographer standing on?

Bath #2 is a shower room. Where does the waste go, into the river?

If there's one thing this house has, it's decks. The one out front is like a huge covered porch.

In the back, this one has a picnic table.

There's room on the island for a nice yard.

This looks like a corner table for one. Like a writing desk or a place to set up an easel.

Now, here we are across the river where you keep your vehicles which must include a boat and a car. It's so close, though, I would get a jet ski just to get across.

Remember, this land comes with it, so the owner has a ladder, shed, and driveway. I guess you can't built a bridge, b/c the neighbors must have boats that need to get thru. How inconvenient. But, if you have the money, it would be a great summer home.

https://www.coldwellbankerhomes.com/ny/amityville/63-riverside-ave/pid_58789263/

[wild-dagon]

A little peak at what I’ve been writing for the Everyone’s loved ones get send to BOTW Hyrule

He lead them over to the entrance of the East Winds store when his Sheikah Slate suddenly let out a shrill tone. He pulled the device from his hip and opened it immediately to see the screen flashing.

“Is everything okay?” Sky asked as he and twilight approached Wild. The rest of the group hung back knowing better than to crowd Wild.

“Don’t know.” Wild whispered not taking his hands or eyes off the slate. The screen stopped flashing and brought him to the map function. Everything looked normal. Except there was a new symbol on his map. One that looked uncomfortably familiar. “Time!” Wild called out for their unofficial leader.

Time moved quickly to his side taking Sky’s place. Wild wasted no time showing Time the slate. It was open. To the map feature and zoomed into Hyrule field. There on the map was a cartoon symbol of a cows head flashing in light blue. The same symbol that Lon Lon Ranch used to market their milk. Time pulled the slate closer hoping he was wrong. But it was identical even down to the shade of blue.

“What is this?” He asked turning to look at wild his heart racing.

‘I don’t know.’ Wild signed. ‘I’ve never seen it before.’ He looked back at the Lon Lon Ranch symbol shining brightly on his map screen. ‘I’ve never heard it make that sound either.’

“How far away is this?” Time asked looking between the screen and Wild.

“How far is what?” Legend asked tired of being left out of the conversation.

Time looked up to see the rest of the chain looking nervously between his white knuckle grip on Wild’s slate, an item he rarely let others touch, and Wild’s slightly shaking hands.

He blew out a breath. He didn’t like anything about this situation. “The Lon Lon Ranch symbol just appeased on Wild’s map.”

“But that can’t be.” Twilight said as color drained from his face. “We’re thousands of years in the future.”

“How far away is it.” Warriors quickly stepped into his captain role. Something wasn’t right here. They all turned to face Wild once more.

‘It would take days to get there.’ The group winced at the answers. ‘And that area is full of guardians.’

Time hand tightened on the slates handle. If this had something to do with Lon Lon Ranch he couldn’t ignore it. He didn’t care how far or what dangers there were he was going. He took another look at the map before he turned in his heal. “Then we better start walking.” He started heading towards the town exit when Wild ran in front of him halting his progress.

‘That could take close to a week.’ he signed aggressively.

“If you have another option I’m all ears.” Time was trying very hard to keep his composure. In any other situation he probably could. But Lon Lon Ranch was his home. It was Marlon’s home. Where she was supposed to be safe. He didn’t know why Lon Lon’s symbol was suddenly appearing in Wild’s map but he had to get there as soon as possible.

Wild paused thinking over what to do. ‘We could teleport.’

“Cub no.” Twilight stepped in. “Last time we were here you said you couldn’t teleport with more than one person.” The last time they were in Wild’s Hyrule Wind had asked if they could teleport to the nearest town and Wild had explained to them the limits of the teleport pads. By himself there was no problem. But adding a guest put a strain on his body. The more guest the hard it would be on Wild physically. A group their size would probably lead to Wild passing out after teleporting them. Something none of them wanted to force him to do unless it was the only option.

‘So we don’t take the whole group.’ Wild signed cutting off the argument. He held his hand out to Time for the slate. Once in hand he showed them the map. ‘I can teleport Time and myself to this shrine over here.’ He pointed to the Wahgo Katta shrine next to the Riverside stables. ‘We can take two of my horse and make our way to the ruins.’ Wild continue showing them the path they would take. ‘It be close to two hours on horse back. Once we figure it out we’ll come back. It will take a few hours tops.’ He finished his plan while trying to reassure them this was the fastest option.

In any other situation Time would have refused the plan. Anything that put one of the boys at unnecessary risk or separated their group would have been an automatic no. But Hateno was safe, the others would be alright, and something g was affecting Lon Lon Ranch. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asked giving Wild his best stern face. The one the boys had named his dad face.

‘Positive.’ Wild confirmed with a determined head nod.