#not a single display

[council-of-beetroot]

I've heard it through the grapevine there might be a Jewish group on campus, but it it's still running it's running so far under the radar that I've never seen a signal sign of it's existence

[thefloatingstone]

Appleseed PDA montage to save you from reading endless pages of unimportant politics that don't amount to anything

also because I have nothing better to do, I'm bored, I'm moody, my gaming laptop is still broken so no BG3, and it's too late at night to start drawing after doing animation clean-up all day.

[originalartblog]

Do you know who's also 15 has a final form values friendship above most things wants to keep everyone safe and has fought and won against multiple gods or god-like entities???

anyway I firmly believe a little bit of Sonic could have saved Chuuya.

[mobius-m-mobius]

Lokius in Loki 2x04 - “Heart of the TVA”

[moeblob]

Would you believe me if I said I rewatched s1 of a silly isekai anime but refuse to watch s2? (it's true btw, you should believe it, I watched s1 three times now)

[fjordfolk]

Finally put this years' ribbon crops up with last year's, technically our last shows are this weekend but mentally I think we're both done for the season and doubt she'll place. Still can't believe she grabbed a CC at a specialty show with 85 entries tho

[honeybyte]

flaw/less, in fact

[slutpoppers]

Armadimon evolves to Ankylomon

Digimon Adventure 02 (2000)

[goldenhypen]

jake photo dump <3

bonus bc look how hot

or idk is it just me i’m in love

[bairdthereader]

Let's talk for a minute about the magical creature that is Tao's mom, Yan Xu.

One of the things I completely adore about the show is that it has given so much space to the secondary characters, space that the comic format doesn't allow. And one of the best things in that space is Tao's relationship with his mom.

The first hint we get of Yan's awesomeness is her obvious adoration of Elle, her heartfelt interest in Elle as her own person, totally independent of her relationship with Tao. Yan sees Elle wholly, cares about all the aspects of her life, and openly admires her beauty and talent. It's never discussed in the show, but Elle must have felt some fear or trepidation about how her friends' parents would react to her coming out as trans. No need to worry with Yan Xu. Her attitude is in such direct contrast to some of the other treatment Elle has received that it must be healing and comforting for Elle on many levels.

Let's not forget this completely on-brand mom moment, when Yan realizes, maybe even before Tao himself, that romantic feelings are developing between the two teens. [At least she manages not to use the phrase 'hanky panky." Shudder.]

She is so supportive of Tao, believes in him so completely, that Mr. Ajayi's assertion that Tao is struggling is unfathomable to her. She doesn't look embarrassed or annoyed (like Charlie's parents), though I do wish we could see her face after she sees his coursework 😂

Yan is so in tune with her son that she rivals, and maybe even sometimes surpasses, Sarah Nelson levels of understanding and sympathy/empathy toward him. She knows he's hurting and worrying, knows that his dread of Elle's potential move must be eating him alive.

But she doesn't push too hard. She's clearly taken the time to give a lot of thought to how she would approach doling out advice to her son. She expresses her love and support of him first, and acknowledges his pain, before making herself vulnerable and telling her story about Tao's dad in a way that he hasn't heard before.

I just love Tao's face in this scene. Will manages to portray all of Tao's love for his mom, his acknowledgment of her unique grief and personal journey, and his appreciation for how she's using her story to show that she sees him, understands him, in a way no one else in his life really can.

Yan's vulnerability, her openness with her son, and the strength she's had to show in the face of tragic loss, all serve to make her words of wisdom to Tao both deeply meaningful and, importantly, acceptable to Tao, who doesn't always take advice well. Yan knows her son, and she knows this is the best way to connect with him.

And when Tao responds to this moment with a joke, she knows him well enough to understand that he's not laughing off her suggestion; he's just coping in the best way he knows how with the intensity of the emotions they're both feeling. It also has to be said that this entire scene is a balm after the rawness of the rest of this episode, where almost every other family interaction has been negative and strained.

And when Tao comes back from the Paris trip, settled and happy... "The perfect girl for my perfect boy." Such a simple statement, but it encompasses so many levels of acceptance, such deep love, hope, and pride.

Yan Xu, we adore you.

[lotus-pear]

how i thought cynonari was going to be vs how it actually is

[naivety]

chapter two, the vampire armand / i could not prevent it, 2x07 interview with the vampire / …the ruthless pursuit of blood with all a child's demanding, 1x04 interview with the vampire

[daily-hanamura]

[thatoneluckybee]

I think it'd be funny if they had discord

Original screenshots under cut! Most from outofcontextdiscord

[44hive]

🇵🇸🤍

[writtenonreceipts]

Fic Masterlist // AO3 Link

Finally posting here. I forgot I had this chapter written until a darling friend commented on a03 and I decided to edit her up and post.

Warnings: none, ~4.5k words

Summary to this point: Feyre has made a slow, if strange, friendship with the mayor of Velaris--Rhysand Avitas.  She isn’t sure what to make of it, or even if she can trust it considering her past.  But her daughter seems to like him and you can trust an almost two year-old right?  After her shop is broken into and a rather cryptic conversation with Rhysand’s father, Feyre’s walls return to full capacity and she’s ready to push everyone away.  It’s what she’s good at.  Now she has to try and clean up her shop and get back to business as usual.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Of Picking Up the Pieces

Two days later Feyre dropped Seren off with Vassa to watch for a few hours.  While Feyre had only lived with Vassa and Jurian for a few months in the early days of her pregnancy, she’d kept in touch with them over the years.  They were also close friends with Lucien which helped the anxiety Feyre had over leaving Seren with someone for the day.  But having a toddler running around a messy shop really wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

So, with Vassa’s assurance that she and Seren would have a fun day together, Feyre returned to the shop for damage control.

The police had informed her that their own crime scene unit did what they could to clean things up, but Feyre wasn’t going to put much faith in what they had to offer.  All she could do was hope that repairs and repainting wouldn’t take too long.  The first few weeks of a new business were the most important and already having to be closed was not going to do good things for her reputation.  Whether or not it was vandalism.

When she finally made it downtown, she had to park a little ways away because the street was still blocked off with police barricades.  It was obvious something had happened and the pedestrians that were milling about kept rapt attention to anything that looked out of place.  Many of the shops still had boarded up windows and paint was still smeared on the sidewalk.

Her shop looked much the same as the previous night with its blown out windows and the beat up door.  Heart squeezing tighter, Feyre tried to control the panic that threatened to eat her alive.

She pushed open the door, the heavy wood groaning.  The paint had long since dried and someone had attempted to scrape it off, but it was to no avail.  Still, she avoided touching any of the red.

The inside of the shop was as good as it could be.  Aside from the splattered paint and broken glass, not much else had been terribly broken.  It would just take a long day of cleaning and reorganizing.  If she had help.  Elain and Lucien would come by when they could, but Lucien had his own job.  Elain was also in the middle of getting her master’s degree in botany and had already put many of her classes on hold to help Feyre with the shop.  Nesta would of course be around to help with legal purposes, but the women’s shelter would need her sooner rather than later.

As all these thoughts continued to plague Feyre, she almost dismissed a sharp whistle that permeated the morning.  Turning, Feyre found a group of high school boys in matching black t-shirts.   Velaris High Football was printed proudly in white across the chest.  A few of them had cut off the sleeves, one made his a crop top.

“Are you Miss Archeron?” the leader asked.  He had buzzed hair and was taller than most high school kids Feyre knew.

“That’s me,” Feyre said.  She eyed the boys in confusion. “What--”

She didn’t get to finish when Cassian appeared behind the boys.

“Archeron!” he said brightly, a grin stretching on his face and hazel eyes bright. “How’s it going?”

Feyre blinked. “Fine?”

“The boys and I are here to help,” Cassian said, absolutely enjoying Feyre’s confusion. “Where do you need us?”

Reigning in her shock as best she could, Feyre gestured to the brooms in one corner and the paint in another.  In a matter of minutes the high school boys were sweeping and cleaning up all the broken items still lying about.

Feyre turned back to Cassian with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing?”

He offered her a to-go cup of coffee she hadn’t noticed him holding.  And not one to say no to free coffee, she accepted.  Her glare didn’t lessen though.

“I coach the football team when not kicking Rhys’ ass,” Cassian explained easily.  He was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, looking exactly like a football coach should with the muscles and domineering appearance.  His brown hair hung in thick waves to his shoulders and tattoos curled along his biceps and down his forearms.  “The school year doesn’t start til September so we’re teaching the boys about service.  They’ve had enough conditioning.”

“Right,” Feyre said.  She took a long sip of the coffee, not enough creamer, and took a moment to process all of that. “So you’re helping me--”

“And the rest of the street,” Cassian added, “we divided the boys up.  And the cheerleaders are coming by too.  I think they decided to host a carwash to earn money for a donation fund.”

It was ridiculous, Feyre decided, that all of this was going on.  

“I don’t need charity,” she said.

“Then the money will go to another shop.” Cassian shrugged. “We just want to help.”

Feyre stared at him.  There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motives for him being there, just a friendly face.  But she knew that he was here in part because of Rhys.  After the last time Cassian had been to the shop to put finishing touches on the light fixtures, Feyre was convinced that Cassian would do whatever Rhys asked.  Hell, he’d trailed Tamlin just because Rhys had asked.

Cassian reached out and gave her arm a squeeze.

“I just want to help, Feyre,” he said, as though he knew where Feyre’s hesitance was coming from.

The kids in the back of the shop laughed loudly at something and were already making progress on the mess of glass from a smashed case.  They didn’t seem to care or notice that they were spending a summer day helping a random person with a problem.

She felt a little bit of gratitude worm its way through her chest and she only nodded.  The floor was still smeared with red paint, despite how the crime scene unit had tried to clean they hadn’t been very effective.  

“Well, I guess we have work to do,” she said.

Cassian only smiled and went to collect a spare push broom to clear away the excess debris still on the ground.

…

The rest of the morning passed quickly.  Different sets of football players rotated through the shop as they took ruined items to a dumpster outside in the street.  If she’d wanted to, Feyre could have sat in the corner and not lifted a finger.  Cassian was well aware of what was needed and what to do and instructed the boys easily.

By the time it was nearing lunch, Cassian dismissed the players for the rest of the day, saying they could stay if they wanted but it wasn’t a requirement.  Even in the four hours of work the shop was already looking good.  Most of the trash had been cleaned up and the glass swept away.  Really all that remained were stubborn spots of paint, replacing the main door, and the front window.  And then the organization.  That sounded like absolute hell.  Maybe she’d wait for Elain’s help.

Mor showed up not much later with two boxes of pizza and water.

“It looks so good!” she exclaimed.  “Who knew teenagers were so helpful?”

Feyre laughed, accepting a water bottle. “It helps when they listen to their coach.”

Cassian only grinned. “They know I can make them run all week if I want to.  Besides, it helps when you split them up properly.  Divide and conquer.”

“Alright general,” Mor mused.  She’d brought plenty of paper towels and served up the pizza, handing Feyre a slice.

“Thanks,” Feyre said.  She was exhausted.  She hadn’t slept well the last several days and it was starting to take a toll on her.  It didn’t help that Seren could sense her mood and had been fussy herself.  

The pizza offered a bit of joy though that she couldn’t deny and if she ended up eating three slices, she would not apologize.

“Where’s Seren?” Mor asked, swatting at Cassian when he tried to steal his own third slice of pizza (Feyre hadn’t even seen him finish his first).

“With some friends,” Feyre said, she smiled wanly.  “We would have gotten nothing done otherwise.”

The only good thing about being so busy was that it distracted Feyre from being worried about her daughter.  Somewhat.  Not really.  Though, everything she did ended up feeling a bit of panic or found herself staring too long into the distance, Cassian was there to redirect her to the task at hand.  Or make an inappropriate joke.  Usually it was the latter.

“If you ever need help,” Mor offered.  She said the words lightly, easily, so they could be dismissed or passed over.

Feyre had never been used to other people offering help.  She’d grown accustomed to doing things her own way.  Alone.  

“Thanks Mor,” she said quietly, “that means a lot.”

Mor smiled before forcing another slice of pizza Feyre’s direction. “Of course.  Now.  What else do we need to get done?”

Really, there didn’t seem much to do beyond waiting until the new glass window arrived and getting the door replaced.  Feyre kicked at the floor where remnants of the red paint refused to come up.  She supposed it was better that the ground was concrete and not carpet, it was easier to hide the mess with rugs than replace the entire flooring.

She looked away before her mind could wander in unwanted directions.

“I think the walls just need another look around the door and over on that side,” Feyre said, gesturing.  The football boys had done a good job, but they were teenagers after all and some of them didn’t have as much attention to details in certain spots than others. “I’m going to buy some rugs for the floor though.”

“You should ask Alanna for help,” Cassian said.  He collected the leftover pizza into one box and set it off to the side before he wiped down the counter where Mor had set the boxes. “She loves that sort of thing.”

Feyre didn’t miss the look Mor shot her friend, but still couldn’t help but ask. “Who’s Alanna?”

“Rhys’ mom,” Cassiad said, cheerfully ignoring Mor’s glare.  

Feyre was aware that Mor was trying to take into account their conversation from the other day and not wanting to be pushed into anything.  Cassian hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Oh,” Feyre said dumbly. “Right.”

“She is wonderful with that sort of thing,” Mor said quickly, “but I know you’re capable of doing this yourself.”

The emphasis on the last part of her words was for Cassian alone.  It seemed his grin was a permanent feature on his face.  

“Of course you can, Feyre, you’re badass,” Cassian said happily.  He moved off to finish clearing the larger glass chunks left in the storefront window.

Mor rolled her eyes and Feyre was sure her friend was going to apologize but she waved her off.

“Badass,” Feyre repeated.

And she let that carry her through the rest of the day.

…

As Rhys walked through downtown, he found that most of the community had come down to help fix up the mess that the vandalizers had committed.  In two days things had been completely transformed from splinters of wood and glass, and graffiti into scrubbed down care.  Things were still out of sorts, but the progress was obvious.

He made sure to stop by as many of the shops as he could and talk to the various owners.  Cassian had told him that the football team would be visiting all the shops along main street and offering help to those who had been affected.  It looked, and sounded, as though a lot had been accomplished.  That was good.  And sure to help rally support in empathy.

Rhys had spoken with his father, unfortunately, to see if any progress had been made on finding the culprits.  There wasn’t much Benham could say, though Rhys doubted his father actually wanted to say them.  He always enjoyed keeping his cards to his chest.

But the one thing Rhys did learn was there were at least three vandals.  They’d moved quickly and were well organized.  Feyre’s shop had been hurt the worst.

That final note was an implication Benham didn’t comment on further, but Rhys knew he would have to face his reckoning on the topic.  He’d avoid it as long as possible.  At least long enough until he could talk to Feyre again.

And he planned to talk to Feyre today.

He’d rehearsed a few things, planned a few others out.  He’d tried to get Mor to tell him about what they’d talked about the other day, but Mor refused to respond stating that was something he could figure out for himself.

He supposed he deserved that.

Between meetings at the office and trying to help assort some sort of damage control, his day had been busy.  A mess.  He’d wanted to come downtown first thing in the morning, but his father wanted to meet, then there were statements to give to the local news outlets.  Azriel and Amren wouldn’t let him leave until they were all done. 

When he was finally released it was late afternoon.  The day remained bright and warm, typical for an August day.  As enjoyable as summer was, Rhys couldn’t wait for cooler days and foggy autumn mornings.  

Rhys made it to Feyre’s shop with a bit of trepidation.  She had finally responded to his messages with a simple thank-you and nothing else.  Rhys, deciding it best to let the situation breathe, had left it at that.  But he was nothing if not persistent.  And maybe a little pathetic according to Amren.

Rhys wouldn’t apologize for it though.

Feyre was worth knowing.  There’d been something about her--strong and resilient, selfless and kind--that struck him.  He knew that she’d lived a hard life, but still she was a good person, a good mother.  Her determination was admirable and Rhys…well Rhys could have spent every waking moment drowning in her.

He paused just outside of the shop, looking through the open doorway.  A part of him wondered if he should leave.  If he should give her more space, more time to reconcile with everything that had happened.

In the middle of the shop with music pouring around them--Mor and Feyre danced as if they didn’t have a care in the world.  It wasn’t the best dancing, Rhys had to admit, but it was carefree and full of laughs and giggles.  Behind them, Cassian was a few rungs up on a ladder, looking down with amusement at the scene.

Rhys knew he was staring.  Blatantly.  But when Feyre was grinning like that, her hair falling out of a bun around her face, and looking so happy.  He couldn’t help it.

“Rhys!” Mor shouted at him when the song changed.   “You missed all the heavy lifting!”

She rested her hands on her hips and glared at him.  Rhys shrugged and grinned.

“Sorry, I had some things to take care of,” he said. “I don’t remember giving you the day off.”

Mor cheerfully flipped him off. “Suck it.”

Rhys knew better than to try and argue anything so he ignored her.  Instead, he looked at Feyre, glad to see that she didn’t withdraw from him.  She may have sobered a bit from the joy of a few moments ago, but she didn’t walk away to busy herself with something else.

“Is there anything else that needs to get done?” he asked instead.

“We got most of it finished,” Feyre said as Mor went to the speaker she’d set up with her phone and turned the music down. “The new door won’t get here until tomorrow.”

He met her gaze, light lingering in her blue eyes.  Just the fact that she was willing to look at him at all was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“Good,” he said, “and the window glass?”

“Hopefully by the end of the week,” Feyre said, “the company I’m working with is also helping out the other store owners, so they’re a bit swamped.”

She cast a look to the window in question, gaping like an open mouthed fish.  The slab of plywood that had been used to cover it up at night was still leaning against the wall but Feyre looked absolutely disgusted at the mere sight of it.

It was a look similar to the one she’d given him all those weeks ago when they’d first met.  Well, officially met.  They’d had one other meeting prior that she’d obviously forgotten and Rhys wasn’t going to bring it up, not now.  Their first real meeting had been a few years ago, back when Feyre had still been pregnant.  Back when she’d avoided everything and everyone.

It was a stark contrast to now.  Even as she seemed to be contemplating murder or larceny or something else illegal.  And he was about to get that look directed straight at him.

“Feyre,” he began, catching Mor’s eye and giving her what he thought was a pretty meaningful look.  Mor of course ignored him.  In the background, Mor was sweeping a pile of dust and glass with painstaking deliberateness while Cassian simply leaned on the ladder obviously enjoying Rhys’ torment.  The only good thing was Feyre had her back to them.  Rhys was going to kill them.

“I need to go pick up Seren,” she blurted.  Her blue eyes were guarded as she edged toward her purse and keys sitting on the corner of the counter.  “I can’t do this right now.”

“Please,” Rhys said, “just five minutes.”

He didn’t like the hesitant way she held herself.  Hated it, really.  The idea of being the cause of her discomfort made him sick and he wished he could make it disappear.  

Feyre swallowed but she didn’t break his gaze or step away again. “You can come by after eight.  Five minutes.”

“I’ll be there,” Rhys agreed.  It was better than nothing.

“Okay,” Feyre said.  She grabbed her purse and keys before turning to Cassian and Mor. “Are you two still alright with locking up?”

“Don’t worry about it!” Mor assured her. “I’ll bring the keys by in the morning.”

Feyre gave her a grateful smile before she was gone.  Rhys would have gone after her if he thought it would have done anything other than get his invitation revoked.  When he turned back to his friends, their expressions were less than ideal.

“I suppose that could have gone better,” Rhys said.

“You better get it figured out,” Mor told him, “because either way, I am keeping her as my best friend.”

…

Two and a half years ago

The hospital was quiet for a Thursday afternoon.  In all the other times Rhys had come with his brother there were all sorts of emergencies, screaming children, and drunken mishaps.  Velaris hospital often found itself consumed by many interesting cases.  But for that day, there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.  Nurses moved with their quick efficiency, patients were calm as they waited for treatment, even the intercom system was soothing.  Though, Rhys was in the clinic that day and not the ER, so that had something to do with it.

Azriel was in for a check up on his hands, making sure the bones and the scar tissue was healing nicely.  It had only been a few months after the surgery that would give Azriel back most, if not all, of his hand function.  There’d been an accident while he’d been working on a car and it all could have gone a lot worse.  But Rhys had made sure to find the best doctors in the country and helped in any way he could.  Despite Az’s protests, Rhys wanted to help.  

Even with the first leg of his mayorship not going quite according to plan, Rhys knew he had to do this.  He was all Az had left.  

Rhys worked on his laptop while Az was in for his check-ups.  They’d had to come to the clinic instead of the regular doctors office for the blood work and x-rays, much to Az’s disappointment.  If Rhys hadn’t taken the day to work from “home” he was certain Az would have skipped out on being here.

Sighing, Rhys looked over a new budget proposal.  Of course his father was requesting more money for the police.  Not even for raises in the community,  healthcare, or training--but for guns and cars.  Rhys could have sworn he’d just signed off on more money a few months ago.

He almost considered calling his father then and there to ask for a more detailed report instead of the one sentence demand.  That wouldn’t do him any favors.

A few people passed by and he listened to the quiet commentary of a few nurses talking about the end of their shift.  It amused him to no end that unlike many tv shows, all the nurses and doctors really wanted to do at the end of their shifts was to go home and sleep.  Not the drunken, raunchy antics media often depicted.  Oh, he’d overheard conversations about sordid love affairs gone awry and knew it happened, but rarely.

As he started a review of the list of events that Amren set out for him for the next few weeks, Rhys almost missed the person who took a seat in one of the chairs across from him.  He didn’t know it was--a tug, a pull, some cosmic whisper--but he glanced up to find a woman seated on the edge of the vinyl seat across from him.

She had long, golden-blonde hair and pale skin with splashes of freckles along her nose and cheeks.  She was striking, beautiful really, with blue eyes and sharp cheekbones.  Her soft mouth was turned down and she worried her lip between her teeth.  The jacket she wore hung off her frame and even in the heat of an early spring day she didn’t take it off.

It was then that Rhys noticed she was pregnant.  Pregnant and terrified.

Her gaze flashed between the few nurses and other patients waiting to be called.  When her eyes landed on him and noticed his watchful gaze she froze.  One hand went to her rounded stomach and the other to her purse.  If Rhys didn’t know any better he would have guessed she would bolt for the door.

He returned his attention to his computer.

After spending a few days a week helping Mor at the battered women’s shelter it wasn’t hard to imagine the woman’s hesitance.

What really bothered him was how familiar she felt to him.  He couldn’t place it but he knew he’d seen her before.

He gave a discrete glance up and found that the woman returned her attention to the doors.  One of her legs bounced too quickly to be natural.  She was watching for something, or someone, and not with rapt yearning.

Rhys dropped his attention before he was caught again.  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, especially if she were seeking help.  The dark circles beneath her eyes and hollow points to her cheeks certainly spoke to exhaustion.  

As he reviewed a few more emails, Rhys started contemplating actually taking a day off.  Maybe Cassian and Azriel would go to a paintball course with him.  It would certainly be a good way to relieve stress.

“Nesta?”  Across the aisle the woman answered a phone call, speaking as quietly as she could.  Her leg hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Yeah, I’m at the hospital.  No.  It’s just just Braxton hicks, I know it is.”  She paused, dragging a hand through her hair. “I’m leaving.  I can’t…Nesta he could come here.”

The woman’s rising panic was palpable and Rhys found himself closing his computer.  He had no business listening in on the conversation just as he had no business already thinking of what he could do to help her.

“It’s Braxton hicks.  Stay in Prythian,” the woman growled into her phone.  “What do you mean Elain’s almost here?”

Rhys glanced at the nurses station.  He recognized one of them who often helped him and Azriel with discharge work and notes.  She was a kinder, older woman who had a soothing effect on her patients.  It took a few moments of intense staring but she finally looked up and caught Rhys’ gaze.  He nodded quickly to the woman across from him.

Wasting no time, the nurse was around the desk and walking over to the pregnant woman who was ending her call.

“Ms. Archeron,” the nurse said, smile in her voice. “Why don’t we get you settled in a room and check your vitals.”

“I’m fine,” Ms. Archeron said.  Her eyes scrunched. “I’m not due until September.  It’s Braxton hicks.”

“Alright, then let's get you more comfortable until they subside,” the nurse replied, her kind tone hedging to be a little more authoritative.  

The woman rose slowly in a mix of pain and hesitance, mostly from the insistence of the nurse.  The skittish look in her eyes didn’t leave as she kept one hand on her rounded stomach.  She tried to argue with the nurse the entire way but eventually managed to get swept down the hall to a waiting room.

Rhys watched them go.  Lingering in the back of his head was the unmistakable thought that he knew who the woman was.  Frowning, he turned on his laptop again and pulled up his old highschool group page.

Archeron.  Archeron.

He knew that name.  And knew she looked familiar. 

It didn’t take very long until he found a few different pictures but none were of her.  The two pictures he did find were of two other girls, Nesta and Elain.  Nesta was featured on the cross-country team for record runs and Elain for humanitarian work she did around Prythain.  But the third remained a mystery.  Until he finally landed on a single, grainy picture.

Prythian youth honored for art piece in local show.

And there, standing beside a photo was the young woman who’d just been seated before him.  Feyre Archeron.  Honored with a small scholarship for an oil painting rendered of the original founders of Prythian.  And that was it.

Rhys glanced down the hall that Madja had taken her.  Thoughts spun in his mind about what had happened in the last few years to lead her to where she was now.  Alone.  Terrified.  Worried about someone finding her.  It was enough to make his blood boil.  

Staring at that old high school photo, Rhys could vaguely remember her.  He knew her sisters as they’d been closer to his age, but she’d somehow vanished in the cacophony of youth and time.  A quiet girl who kept to herself, who worked hard, who punched a kid for spouting slurs at a classmate.  He also remembered the three sisters often skipping, leaving campus…the way they never brought lunches or rarely had needed class materials.

Rhys pursed his lips and opened another web browser, curiosity too strong to quiet.