#Toll Gate High School

[riilsports]

January Educator Spotlight, presented by Bank RI: Sean McNamara, Toll Gate H.S. & La Salle Academy

January 17, 2023

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART II

ALRIGHT, SECOND PART IS OUT. NOT WAITING. hope u like :)

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader || enemies to lovers trope.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

This isn't your first time meeting Steve Harrington.

You know him. And he knows you. Well, maybe. Who knows. You both run in completely different circles in high school.

While there's some very obvious tension amongst the love triangle (Nancy-Steve-Jonathan) you take a second to look over at the group of kids behind King Steve. There's a curly-haired kid wearing a cap, another kid sporting a bandana, and a redheaded girl. They give you sort of awkward waves, which you return with a tight-lipped grin.

"Sorry," Jonathan's suddenly saying. "Uh, you guys, this is umm -"

"Bauman," you interject. "Just...call me Bauman."

Steve is now looking at you, realizing. Recognizing. "Hey," he says. "Wait, aren't you in Click's class?"

You press your lips into a thin line, trying not to be totally off-put by him. And in truth, you weren't really. Steve had seemed less... douchey, since he started dating Nancy. You were grateful for that. No matter how doomed their relationship was, it seemed to help him get rid of his trash friends. God, Tommy H. and Carol and that Nicole girl were just toxic.

"Yeah," you said, reaching out a hand. "Nice to officially meet you."

Steve shook your hand, a bit sheepish. And still distracted with the fact that his girlfriend had shown up with Byers. Why was she with Byers? You felt yourself internally cringing, seeing how oblivious yet aware he was. It actually made you feel bad.

"I'm Dustin!"

You suddenly looked in the direction of a toothy-grinned kid smiling at you, and you couldn't help but grin back. "Hey, Dustin."

Lucas and Max introduced themselves, too. But then, you all heard sound coming from off in the distance. The lab.

So yeah, things took a pretty sharp turn from there. It's all kind of a blur, if you're being honest. Everyone began talking over each other, eventually gathering info as to exactly who you are and why you were here (at least the general just of it). They learned about Murray Bauman, and Steve's face just became more perplexed, the more that Nancy and Jonathan revealed what they had learned...together.

...yikes.

But the kids were also asking you a million questions, very curious about you. Max found you funny, finding you to have more cool-girl energy than Nancy, who just seemed too polished for her to know how to communicate with her.

Eventually, Nancy noticed the power back on at the lab and you all took off in that direction. Steve was arguing a lot with the kid named Dustin. Very brotherly. Low-key motherly. The toll gate wouldn't open, then suddenly it did open, and then next thing you know a car is racing towards you from the lab and it's got Jim Hopper at the steering wheel? He's throwing the door open, demanding all of you to get in.

As you all drive, you end up near the front of the car, squished between Steve and Dustin.

"Bauman."

You look over at Jim, surprised. But he's looking at you in the rearview with all-knowing eyes. "You're Murray's niece."

You nod. "Yeah. Jim Hopper, right?"

Jim reaches back to pat your knee, eyes on the road and still shaken up from whatever the hell they just escaped. "M'sorry, kid. Your uncle's been getting shit from me. I know he sent you. M'really sorry. I'll make it right with him after all this, alright? Promise."

You just nod, knowing there's really no time for any of that right now. Since you got in the car, you haven't even had time to notice how there is a woman (clearly Joyce Byers) in pure distress, along with another kid in tow and the limp body of another child that she's holding. Jonathan is reaching for him, riddled with worry. Is that Will?

Once you all make it back to the Byers residence, it's tense. Really fucking tense. Jonathan is knelt in front of the couch, voicing his regrets out loud as he stares at his brother's limp form. Nancy stands behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. You're on the opposite side of the room, leaned against the wall.

Which is why you notice that behind Hopper, who's yelling into the wall phone, Steve. He looks...devastated. Hurt. Heartbroken.

...fuck, he looks heartbroken.

He walks past you, pinching his nose and sniffing once. He looks like he's really fighting off some emotion, escaping to another room. It makes you think about everything that went down at your uncle's bunker, and how maybe it was funny there...but it isn't here. Not now, seeing that this guy actually has some intense feeling for Nancy Wheeler. Intense love for her. Real love.

...but Nancy doesn't feel that same intense love for him.

...oh god, that's messy.

But all hell is breaking loose before you can linger on that for much longer. Suddenly, you're all devising a plan. It has something to do with dungeons and dragons, and Will being possessed, and getting him in a room that whatever monster is inside of him won't recognize. The you're all deciphering Morse Code, and it's a whirlwind from there.

And then you're all holding weapons, bracing fore an attack...when some young girl walks in. Who you come to learn is the infamous Eleven. Her hair grew back, and she looks ready to join a punk band.

Pretty bitchin' look, you gotta admit.

The kids introduce her to you, and she gives you a shy smile. Then you're all splitting up into groups, and you catch a brief exchange between Nancy and Steve. He's saying something to her about going with Jonathan, and it makes you tense for Nancy. You can't even imagine how she must feel, knowing that he sees it.

And honestly, the way that Steve talks is...so not King Steve. It's uncharacteristically mature. Secure, and assuring. Not that of the teen heartthrob and bad boy you've been going to school with. And when Nancy does go off with Jonathan, you see Harrington's heart shatter into a million pieces with just the look in his eyes.

You feel bad. You suddenly feel really bad.

But also, he had to have seen this coming. Right? Jonathan Byers was a good, decent guy, who'd been there for Nancy all throughout the hell of last year. Steve had come around, finally. But by then, the trauma bond between Byers and Wheeler was irreversible. There's no changing that.

But damn, unrequited love sucks.

You knew was rejection felt like, and you wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even your worst enemy.

Out of guilt, you make some conversation with Steve. Given it's just the two of you with the kids left at the house, needing to wait things out, you both easily make conversation. It's a bit awkward at first, but oddly it finds flow pretty easily. Steve's still got his charm, although it's a little more grounded than before. It isn't forced, or laced with popular-kid attitude. That's refreshing.

As you both end up listening to the kids like the only two parental figures around, then end up having to fight off that psycho new kid at school named Billy Hargrove (who's actually Max's stepbrother?!) and patch up Steve's very beaten and battered face which somehow still looks pretty, annnnd wind up in a tunnel full of creatures (demo dogs? is that what Dustin called them?), then somehow survive all of that shit... you and Steve become pretty bonded, pretty quickly.

And when the worst of it is seemingly over, you end up helping Eleven get ready for the Snowball -- dropping her off with Hopper. He's grateful for your help, and after making amends with your uncle you two have gotten to know each other well, too. He likes you, appreciating your mature sense of self.

Joyce adores you already, being the kind-natured and loving mama-bear that she is.

And El? Well, she loves you. You're like a cool older sister figure of sorts.

You and Steve run into each other when dropping off the kiddos at the Snowball, making conversation about how crazy everything was. You talk about other things, too. Just mundane things, bouncing off each other well. But when Steve notices Nancy inside, he gets that sad puppy-dog look in his eyes again. Then, Jonathan's coming out of the dance with a camera. He clearly was the designated photographer for the night.

And he clearly has captured Nancy Wheeler's heart.

One night, after Jonathan and Nancy have started going steady and you're all on summer break, you're all over at the Henderson's house watching the kids. The adults are there, too, since Mrs. Henderson is out working overnight. Murray is pouring up drinks for the adults and teens, much to Joyce's disapproval. But he just goes about his business, clinking glasses. Hopper honestly looks like he could really use a fucking drink. Or 5.

You, Steve, Nancy and Jonathan all toast, happily. Chatting. Laughing. Making light of things.

...but that ends up being pretty short-lived.

Before you know it, you're in the kitchen helping clean up while Joyce gets the kids in bed and Hopper is on the couch slurring with your uncle. Steve had offered to help you, but Dustin insisted that he come see something in his room before they all went to bed. Nancy has left with Mike and Max, while Lucas is staying the night.

Welp. Jonathan walks in, drunk, telling you thank you.

It's sloppy, and it would be funny except for the fact that he is talking so fucking loud. He's just thanking you, and then Murray, over and over -- "...for meddling with'm love life because now, I'm dating th'most beautifurrrl girl in Hawkins. N'if'it weren't for y'two...I'd still'b pining o'r h-her."

...annnnd then he’s blabbering on about how you let him and Nancy take the bed. “Well’lmost… ha, w-we ended urp…takin’th…couch. Whischhh…you tol’us you’w’d…toHaLLy tAkE’stead.” Then he’s snickering, drunkenly. “Cuz’you toooootally wanted us to doooo itttt. Schhhhhhayin that — m’not the safe one. That’m — I’m the one’th Nannnncy l-loves. Not…S-Steve…”

You just chuckle nervously, giving him a pat on the shoulder. And you just keep washing the dishes when he gives you a tight hug from behind, stumbling a bit and making you almost drop and break one of Mrs. Henderson's very cute plates.

Right on cue, Steve rounds the corner, having heard it.

All of it.

And now that Steve has gotten wind of the fact you played a huge role — along with Murray — on why Nancy left him, he is totally pissed.

In fact, he’s livid. 

"Steve," you try, but he just holds up a hand, staring daggers at you.

"Save it, Bauman," he grits. "Save. It."

It causes him to have the utmost disdain towards you, border lining hate. It just festers over time, getting worse.

Something about that makes your stomach flip inside out with a horrible, upset feeling. Your guts feel knotted up, and if the reality of things weren't so bleak, you would laugh at the fact that losing Steve Harrington's friendship (let alone trust) would upset you one day, let alone even happen. You feel bad. You really do. But God, as time goes on... his entire attitude about it is insufferable. He isn't letting up any time soon. Not when you both meet up with the kids (because regardless of the strain between you two, you're both the parents now). It feels like two divorced parents, meeting up to share custody of the chitlins.

The only relationship to which Steve is committed, is the one that he shares with Miss Hatred. And you're her bitch.

...guess there's still some King Steve in him after all.

You knew King Steve. He was an ass. So you know what? Suck it, Harrington. Karma’s a bitch.

As time passes, you begin firing back at him - tired of trying to explain yourself, apologize or play nice. Steve wants to fucking play? Alright then. Game on, Harrington.

There's a whole upside down universe threatening to take over still? All good. Let's still brawl, Harrington.

The kids keep bringing you both around each other, and you're also working at a place inside of the same damn mall as Steve is for the summer? AWESOME.

LET'S GET READY TO FUCKIN RUMBLE.

So yeah, you’re totally involved in the whole mall ordeal with the Russians, bonding you to Steve and Robin, along with Dustin and Erica.

But despite that, Steve still resents you. So there is still rivalry between the two of you.  Hot and bothered. 

That said, despite his pure disdain towards you...it doesn't change the fact that you actually do begin to see him for the much better human that he is becoming. King Steve has fallen. No doubt. You see that. The way that he loves and cares the kids, especially Dustin. And the way that Steve reacts whenever Robin comes out to you both? He's an angel. Hell, he even fought the soldiers off of you whenever they decided to make you their torture-chamber play-thing. He definitely got mad at them for that one, but he also got mad at you for not going with Dustin and Erica before all of that went down. You both nearly strangled each other when attempting to hold the door shut, yelling at each other to run. Robin had finally joined you both, but still - neither of you budged.

Steve was a good guy. A nice guy, even. Just not to you, unless the moment called for him to be. Which was fine.

…but he’s still annoying. And apparently, he can hold a fucking grudge like no other. He’s a world class champ at that, come to find out. Gold star.

You're onboarded to help Hopper, Murray and Joyce with shutting the gate. It's a no-brainer. Steve looks a little miffed, seeing how the adults trust you like one of them rather than him. Even the way that Jonathan is so cool around you, and Nancy seems shy around you, it just...irks him.

When you manage to help Joyce close the gate, you witness the death of Hopper. And it kills you, along with your uncle. You ache for Joyce, unable to fathom how you'll have to bring it up to El.

But hey, you all manage to destroy the Mind Flayer. And when Billy is killed in the process, you tend to Max like a true older sister. She and Eleven have both come to look up to you as such, and Steve won't deny the fact that you're a saint with these kids. A real fucking saint. And if he's being honest...he's relieved to have a co-parenting partner.

But that is the extent of his gratitude towards you, which is strictly circumstantial. You make things convenient sometimes.

Hopper dying hits all of you hard. And you do everything that you can to help your uncle not drink himself to death. It's the only reason that you don't regularly visit the Wheelers in California. Your uncle is a wreck. Hopper was the only man who truly felt like a friend to your very lonely (by choice) Uncle Murray.

Steve does single you out to ask how you're doing, knowing that witnessing Hopper's death was tragic. But you just tell him that the real concern is your uncle and Joyce, insisting that you will get by. Steve seems hesitant at first, knowing that you're not fine. He might hate you, but he still cares about a party member who got put through hell.

"I'm alive, Steve. So I need to carry on. For everyone's sakes. I'll be alright."

As time goes on...

You and Steve give Robin very conflicting love advice, when it comes to her crush on Vikki.

"VIKKI LIKES BOOBIES."

"Christ, Steve," you're groaning in the backseat. "Stop being such a damn teenage boy."

"I'm almost 20, Bauman," he scowls at you in the rearview mirror.

You make a face, exaggerating feigned apology. "'Scuuuuuse me."

Man, he could not hate you more. Steve is sure of that. You are the worst. Why are you here. You are just the worst. Every time he looks at you, all he sees is Murray Bauman but as a much hotter 19-year-old girl with way more better comebacks and select timing.

AND NO, THAT IS NOT A COMPLIMENT.

!!!!!!!!

Next thing you know, Chrissy Cunningham has been found dead in a trailer that belongs to Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Who, according to Dustin, is not only still in high school — he’s also friends with them? Yikes. But Dustin swears that he’s not a murderer.

You choose to believe Dustin. Much to Steve’s chagrin. In his mind, any chance that you get to disagree with him, you will gladly fucking take it. He is really committed to you being his enemy.

And you know what? Fine. You can play. You've been playing.

Eventually, Nancy comes back into the picture.

And honestly? Watching her be all into Steve again? As if she isn't in a relationship with Jonathan still? That pisses you off.

Not because you’re jealous. No, no. Not that.

…yeah no, it’s not that.

Nah, it’s the way this girl just cannot for the life of her figure out what she is feeling. Dear lord, woman. Pick.

Eventually, you comment on this. But not until Eddie Munson is suddenly roped into y’all’s crew and you both strangely hit it off. You share the same taste in music. You both compare concert history, listing off you're favorites and randomly bursting into song. Very scream-o, metal music. Eddie thinks you're the shit, and you make him laugh a lot. He also makes you laugh a lot.

Steve hates that.  He really, really hates that.

But not because he is jealous. No, no. It’s not that.

…yeah, it’s definitely not that.

Nah, it’s the way you make friends with someone he isn't a fan of just to spite him. You know he doesn’t like Eddie. You know he feels replaced by Dustin for him. You’re doing this shit on purpose. He knows it. He just knows it.

Regardless, you both stand by each other throughout the whole Vecna ordeal. And Max?  She loves you. Trusts you. A lot. You also tell her not to give Steve so much shit. So he’ll give you that.

But that’s all he’s gonna give you. And even that has its limits.

Whenever you all find out that Max is cursed, the first person that Steve finds himself looking at is you. Because you're the co-parent. You've gotta help him know what to do. You feel the exact same way.

You both witness her possession in he graveyard. You both help calm the kids down, and each other. Whenever Max writes letters to each of you, she looks at both you and Steve for a long time. A really long time. It's very uncomfortable.

...then she's finally handing you both a letter, and the look she shoots you both afterwards in really unsettling. Like she knows something.

But what the hell is there to know? That you both can't stand each other? NEWSFLASH: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT. So joke's on them.

...not Max though. She's in trouble. So she's allowed to know whatever the hell...that she...knows...?

You and Steve both profusely disagree with everyone about the idea of Max becoming the bait. In fact, it's the first time that you both are defending each other to everyone else. Whenever Max argues Steve, you tell her to listen.

"Steve has every right to be worried right now. We all do, Max."

She sighs, knowing that you're right.

And whenever Dustin tries to get quippy with you about stuff, Steve shuts him down real fast.

"Hey. Not cool. Bauman's in the right, check yourself."

Dustin also sighs, knowing that he's right.

Because you both know these kids better than anyone. You helped Mike ease up on Hopper, becoming that one older-sister figure he can actually go to and be normal around. Hell, he even hugs you. Mike never hugs anyone, except El. And Lucas? You and Steve are at every single one of his games, like proud parents. Will calls you whenever he wants to paint, knowing that you enjoy art. You've spent many nights painting with him, and even Steve will join with the other kids. They mostly just finger paint and bicker, but it's still lovely in its own sort of way. And then there's Dustin. The golden child, who both of you wanna hug and strangle at the same time. He is forever putting the two of you in close proximity, secretly loving the tension between the two of you. He figures that it's just because you both wanna be the favorite parent, and Dustin is too fixated on why Steve hasn't started dating Robin to even remotely suspect that you two could be an item.

There's a plan in motion now. It's in full swing, all groups peeling off. There's a new species added to the fucked up realm (the newly coined named for them is demo-bats) and you've somehow saved Steve's ass for the 3rd time. This guy seriously cannot catch a break.

But now, Eddie’s suddenly encouraging Steve to go after Nancy again. And damn, that bugs you.  It really motherfuckin’ gets under your skin. Because Eddie doesn’t know the full story about what went down between them. Not even close.

You can't help yourself. You tell Steve this, once Eddie walks up ahead. But of course, Steve is rebuking everything that you are saying.

And then he's telling you that Nancy is different, and -- “actually, things are better.” 

But you scoff at that, incredulously. And you're telling him to "wake up and realize that 1) she’s still with lover-boy Byers, and 2) you shouldn’t pine after someone who chose someone else over you."

You mean to say it kindly. Honestly, you try to.

But Steve doesn’t think so.  And he’s faster. He’s also cruel.

“Maybe that’s why you broke us up, huh?" Steve is firing back at you with all that he's got now. "Because you’re used to that. Being the second choice. Weren’t you Clark’s best friend? Didn’t he drag you along until he ended up picking Becky? Yeah. Thought I didn’t know that, right? Or how you hung out with some of the basketball guys and never once got asked out by any of them? God, it’s so obvious. Also, it’s pathetic. You clearly hate seeing anyone happy. So hey, guess what? You got your wish: successfully ruining someone else’s happiness. Bingo! Congratulations, you won.”

It hurts. It really does. It fucking hurts.

Still, you do try to reason with him. It’s a little harsh, you’ll admit it. You’re not exactly speaking to him sweetly. But you try.

“All my personal love life issues aside —" you start, bringing your voice down and speaking as level as possible. "...which honestly, I’ve never even had something worth labeling as love — Steve, YOU still deserve to —”

“To suffer,” he cuts you off. “Yeah. I know. And the fact you’ve not had love? That just further proves my point. You admit it and yet you’re still out to get me. Because you’re fucking miserable.”

Alright, you’ve had it.

“I’m miserable?” you ask, ready to fire back. “Steve. You’re the one letting your ex-girlfriend — who didn’t even properly dump you — toy with your brain again into actually thinking she’s gonna pick you this time. She doesn’t deserve that. And you certainly don’t deserve —”

“You deserve nothing.” Steve is seething. Then hissing at you, “You’re bullshit, Bauman. You and your whack job Uncle. You’re both bullshit.”

So you stop. You let it go.

You let Steve Harrington hate you and suffer his own misfortunes. And you pretend that what he said didn’t just shatter your soul into a million tiny pieces.  You nod at him, swallowing hard.

“My uncle is twice the man you’ll ever be. King Steve.”  

It’s a pathetic last attempt. And your voice feels small, tight. But standing up for your uncle is better than yourself at this point. You walk off, away from him.

And Steve doesn’t tell you to stop. He doesn’t tell you not to walk away. He lets you.

So he doesn’t see you cry alone inside of the upside down version of the Wheelers’ bathroom.  He doesn’t see your heart break in two, and he doesn’t see you bite back the sobs sinking your teeth into your palms.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

[kkeidawrites]

Something Borrowed

Day 23 of Blacktober! Still sick and shit but here you guys go!

A warm morning rose in the horizon, as students made their quiet walk to school. Properly dressed in their uniforms and holding their backpacks, students entered into their friend groups as they made walked through the front gates of campus.

Teachers waved at them in greeting to some while others scolded the typical juveniles that were already making a ruckus.

All of a sudden, the courtyard of students immediately goes silent as a group of students makes their way through the parting crowds of students.

The famous basketball team known as the Generation of Miracles were like their own version of celebrities at Teikō Junior High and quite frankly the only known sports team that was the reason for bringing so many new students to attend.

Almost immediately, all the girls are running up to Kise cheering and gushing over him; the blonde mentioned is more than happy to welcome the attention.

“Kise, come on we have to go!” Daiki yells annoyed.

“We’ll just meet him in class Daiki, no need to wait for him. He couldn’t move if he wanted to anyway.” Akashi says readjusting his bag over his shoulder.

Once in class, the basketball players were seated in their selected seats and talked amongst themselves.

“Did you hear about the new volleyball player that moved from the states? I heard she’s really good!” A student sitting in front of Akashi gossips.

“No way! Is she hot?” Another student asks excitedly.

“No idea, I haven’t seen or heard anyone around say anything but if she’s a volleyball player then she has to be smokin’!” They say and Daiki hums in thought at the new information.

“A new volleyball player? They’re letting in more players this year? I thought tryouts were over?” Nijimura asks.

“Maybe something happened.”

Midorima juggled his lucky item of the day, this time an eraser as he listened to his teammates speak. He didn’t know why they cared about things so trivial, they had a game in two days and that was more important than some new face on campus.

The toll of the school bell rings and the students hanging out around their friend’s desks scrambled to take their seats. Once everyone was settled, the teacher walks in to stand behind their brown desk.

“Good morning everyone, as you know we have a quiz today on the skeleton so I hope you have prepared for it.”

Groans are heard as the teacher waves their hand to dismiss the noises.

“If you studied then this will be easy to do. But before we start, we have a new student attending our class and I would hope that you all will be nice to her. Come on in Y/n!” The teacher calls.

The classroom door slides open and in steps in the new student that they were referring to. The gasps and awes from the seated students were heard as the student stands in front of the classroom. Donning the female school uniform and uwabakis, the new student gives a polite smile.

“Good morning everyone, my name is L/n Y/n, I just moved here a few days ago and I hope we all can get along!” She bows to the students.

The GOM watched the new girl with a peaked interest, especially Midorima who pushes up his glasses up his nose.

Her hair was styled in a low ponytail her curls flared out down her back, dark brown skin, white teeth, and black rimmed glasses showing off brown eyes.

“Very good, Y/n now you can take your seat in front of Midorima. Midorima, if you could please raise your hand.” The teacher calls and the green haired student does as he’s told.

Y/n makes her way to the empty desk in front of the one called Midorima and nods in greeting to him. Sitting in her seat, she takes out her books and green pencil case and focuses in front of her as the teacher begins their lesson.

Midorima hmphs indifferently and starts to write down the review notes for today’s quiz.

“Psst!” He ignores the sound.

“Psssst!” Again, ignoring and writing faster.

“Psssssssssst! Midorima!” Sighing and rolling his eyes, Midorima looks behind him to see Daiki trying to get his attention.

“What?” Midorima hisses.

“Pass this off to the new girl.” He shoves a folded piece of paper to Midorima who frowns in annoyance.

“No.” He deadpans.

“Come on, you’re literally right behind her. Please?” Daiki begs and Midorima takes the paper and throws it over to where Kuroko is sitting.

“Ah Midorima!” Daiki hisses aggravated while Midorima returns to his studies.

Kuroko ever so curious, opens up the letter and reads it quietly. He then turns around and makes a blank face at Daiki who blushes embarrassed.

“It’s not for you, you halfwit!” He whispers then points to Y/n who is busy writing down what was on the board.

Kuroko shrugs and politely places the piece of paper on Y/n’s desk who looks up to see who placed it on her desk.

Kuroko waves in kind and starts writing on his paper, Y/n picks up the piece of paper and reads the note.

‘Hey, I think you’re pretty want to go out sometime?’

Pursing her lips, Y/n gives a raised brow at Kuroko who shakes his head and points his thumb behind him. Y/n follows the thumb to see a blue haired boy with a smirk on his lips and a wink sent her way.

Y/n crumbles up the paper and sets it beside her pencil case.

“Not interested.” she whispers and Daiki just smirks even more.

“Alright, everyone it’s time for the quiz! Go ahead and put your notes and review sheets away.” The teacher says with a pile of blank quiz papers in their arms as they walked down the three aisles of desks and set down a quiz for each student they passed.

Once everyone got theirs, the teacher sits back down at their desk and puts a timer of thirty minutes on their phone.

The sounds of pencils scribbling and are heard throughout the classroom. Midorima had just about finished his quiz without struggling on any of the questions.

He looks up when he heard the sound of cluttering of mechanical pencils and sees Y/n was looking for something in her pencil case. He goes back to his test and scribbles the last of his answers.

“Oh man,” she groans and sighs. She left her eraser at home and of course this would happen when she was taking a test, but she needed to change one equation and she would be done.

Looking around her, she could see the other students had their own erasers on their pencils and thought it would be awkward to ask to use it.

Turning around, she taps on the green haired student’s desk getting his attention as he looks up at her.

“Sorry to bother you but,” she points at his eraser sitting by his quiz paper.

“Can I borrow that really quick? I promise to give it back.” She promised and Midorima looked at her like she had gained another head.

“Ask someone else.” He tries to say politely but, Y/n shakes her head.

“Everyone else has one on their pencils and it would be impolite and weird to ask to borrow their pencil.” She says.

Midorima mulls over his decision to hand over his lucky item and subconsciously picks it up, rubbing it gently.

“You’ll give it right back? No funny business?” He asks. Y/n nods and Midorima bites his lip in hesitation as he hovered the eraser over her open outstretched hand. Y/n could see he was practically shaking and gave a soft smile, closing her hand.

“You don’t have to give it to me, it’s okay. I can just mark it out and write over it, okay? It’s no big deal. Thanks anyway.” She says and turns back around to continue on her quiz.

Midorima however, lets out a relieved sigh and places the eraser back on his desk. However, now, he couldn’t focus on finishing his quiz, he looked up at Y/n’s back and then back down at the eraser.

“Ten more minutes everyone!” Their teacher announced and Midorima looked down to see he had one more question to finish but, he couldn’t even read the question as he kept looking over at the eraser.

Sighing, Midorima puts down his pencil and picks up the eraser again. Holding it, and caressing the soft pink coating, he leans forward in his seat and taps Y/n on her right shoulder.

She jumps slightly and looks behind her to see Midorima holding out his eraser to her. Eyes widening in surprise, Y/n gently takes the eraser and looks at him in shock.

“Are you sure you want me to use this? You don’t mind?” She asks.

“Just hurry and fix your mistake and let me have it back.” He says snippy.

“Okay, I’ll be very quick I promise!” She says and turns around to eraser her mistake.

The other GOM members stare at Midorima in shock, even Kuroko was gaping at him in disbelief. Midorima had never allowed anyone to touch his lucky item before and all of a sudden this girl not only touched it but used it.

Just as promised, Y/n hands Midorima his eraser back and he looks it over to see it had barely been touched, no pink shavings or anything was left on it.

Setting it back down, Midorima finishes his quiz and leans back in his chair with his arms folded, avoiding the gaze of his teammates but sneaking glances at Y/n every once in a while.

Within the next couple of days, everyone got their quizzes back graded and class was over for the day. Today, Y/n is bombarded by the girls in the classroom all wanting to know where she was from and what she was like.

Midorima however, was still being bombarded by his teammates in the hallways, their destination to lunch. His brisk walk away from his teammates didn’t do much as they kept up the same pace as he through the hallways to the cafeteria.

“Come on Midorima! What was that about a couple of days ago? You just let some random girl touch your lucky item! Something you have NEVER let anyone do before!” Kise says and Midorima just remains silent, blatantly ignoring his and the others questioning.

“I told you all to leave me alone-“

“Midorima! Hey!” The GOM members stop in the middle of the hallway and look behind them to see Y/n running up to them, her bag bouncing on her hip as she came closer.

Stopping abruptly, she is met with Daiki using his tall body to lean down to her height and smirk at her.

“Hey there, Y/n did you change your mind about what I asked ya earlier this week?” He asks and Y/n frowns disinterested and makes her way over to Midorima. Waving politely to the other members of his group, Y/n focuses on Midorima who is staring at her with a confused look on his face.

“Hey, I wanted to thank you for letting me use your eraser. That really helped me out.” She says with a smile and then digs into her bag.

“Here,” she pulls out another eraser and holds it out for him to take. Midorima looks at the eraser and notices that it is the same one as the one he had. Taking it into his hands, he carefully inspects the eraser for any trace of indifference or damages and then back to Y/n.

“I really appreciate it but, I have to go now, enjoy your new eraser.” She says and is quick to leave the GOM, her waving at them as she departs.

“Wow, now that’s something I’ve never seen before. A girl who is nice enough to give something to Midorima? That’s new.” Murasakibara mutters.

He watches the girl go and tightens his fist around the eraser in his right hand, a small smile appearing on his lips then quickly disappearing before any of his teammates saw.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

If you guys want a part 2 let me know! Otherwise please like, comment, and reblog! Be sure to let me know in my inbox what you may want for this month’s fanfiction stories!

[madhatterbri]

Thanksgiving Deception | Demon F.B.

Summary: Balor convinces Grace she isn't getting presents for Christmas.

Author's Note: I called the Demon Balor in this.

Happy Monday Night RAW, babes. ❤️

Finn Balor Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @terrortwinunicorn @magicalbuttertarts @miss-kuki-nz

As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️

Balor sat in his dark room, annoyed. Despite it being the day before Thanksgiving, he didn't have much to be thankful for. With his arms crossed over his chest, he thought about the people who made his life a living nightmare.

He was stuck on Earth after his human side, Finn, decided to fall in love with a human woman. The woman, Y/N, was insufferable. A basic female who lacked any cooking skills and talked nonstop. She wasn't the worst, though. Oh no. There was a greater evil. A smaller yet mightier evil.

"Mommy!" Grace called out. Balor grimaced at the sound of the child's high pitched voice. "Can I watch Bluey?"

See what he meant? Pure evil.

"Of course you may, Grace. I am going to take these clothes to the washer and get our clothes from the drier. Be good for Balor, okay?"

His blood boiled after the woman left that monster with him again. Grace was a snotty little know it all. Even when she was wrong, she would run to cry to her parents. Her doting parents always sided with her.

Balor, why did you tell her that the stork dropped her off at the wrong house.

No, Balor, you can't wash her in this washing machine.

The spoiled child was given anything and everything she wanted. His human side was wrapped around that child's little pinky finger.

The theme song for Bluey could be heard through the whole apartment. She liked to dance and sing to the theme song.

Balor poked his head out of his bedroom door. On his hands and knees, he crawled into the living room. The young girl was seated on the couch. Her arms crossed over her chest. She sighed as if she had the longest day of her life despite being off for Thanksgiving week. Kindergarten must be taking its toll on her.

The irritated demon stood in front of the television. It was only to get a rise out of her. His plan worked.

"Hey! You are in the way!" She yelled at him. Her tiny body moved from side to side to see the screen. "Move!"

Balor snapped his head to say something mean yet stopped. His eyes gazed at the Christmas tree. The very one that Y/N insisted to put up early. He smiled inwardly.

"Hmph, with that attitude, I can see why you won't be opening presents tomorrow," Balor scoffed. He shrugged and walked away to the kitchen.

Grace's eyes widened in horror. Her mouth dropped as she looked at the tree and then him. "What?"

"Your mom and dad didn't get you any presents. Why do you think there is nothing under the tree?"

"But mommy and daddy always get me presents," she insisted. The small child slid off the couch and walked to the tree. She dropped to her knees and looked for a present. Maybe they were just so small that she couldn't see.

"Not this year, I guess. Pity," he told her.

"But I get straight E's in school," Grace defended. Her face started to flush. Tears started to fill at the bottom of her eyes.

"Remember when mommy and daddy had to go to school because the teacher said you talk too much and your mean to the others?" Balor asked gently.

"But I tried to do better. My name is always on the green light now. Every Friday, I get a toy from the treasure chest. I really did," she whimpered. Grace frowned as she stared at the empty space under the tree. "I'm a good girl,"

"Well, I guess your teacher didn't think you were good enough this year. She must have told Santa to keep you on the naughty list. Your mommy and daddy have to obey Santa, or he kidnaps them and turns them into candy canes," he told her. Balor poured himself a drink. "Only good girls get presents,"

That was the opening of the flood gates to her tears. Her small body shook as tears rolled down her cheeks. The distraught child stood up and laid on the couch. Her face buried in her arms as she sobbed.

Before Y/N came back, Balor crawled back to his room. He was in for it, but this was worth it.

Y/N opened the front door. She stopped when she saw Grace crying.

"Oh no, what's wrong, sweetheart?" Y/N asked. She placed the laundry basket on the coffee table. "Did you get a boo boo? Can mommy see?"

Y/N dropped to her knee. She rubbed Grace's back as the child sobbed. A few moments later, Grace sat up.

"I'm a good girl, mommy," Grace insisted. Snot ran down her nose. The worried mother grabbed a tissue and wiped her face.

"I know. You are mommy and daddy's good girl. What's wrong?"

"You didn't get me presents for Christmas," she whimpered and pointed to the tree. More hot tears fell down her face.

"Sweetheart, tomorrow isn't Christmas," Y/N pointed out. The tears started to lessen.

"It's not?"

"No, baby. The Elf hasn't even come yet. Remember the elf? He would do lots of bad things when we woke up every morning?"

"Waffles?"

"Yes, Waffles the elf,"

There was a pause before Grace finally remembered. Feeling ashamed, she sheepishly hugged her mother. Ever the instigator, Grace wasn't done yet. She went to the hallway and shouted towards Balor's room.

"I am a good girl!"

[dee-writes-angst]

For Tenko (Chapter One)

SUMMARY After years of waiting and training in hidden nooks when you could, it was finally time to take the UA entrance exam.

CONTENT WARNINGS death, depictions of homeless children, mentions of abuse, loss, and grief. For the sake of the series (and my conscience), all characters are aged up while still following the plot of MHA. In other words, think of UA as a college rather than a high school.

AUTHORS NOTE this story has me in a chokehold, I can not be stopped. Here's chapter one, enjoy!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

It's been years since you lost your best friend to the collapse. Since that devastating night, you had forged your own path, wandering aimlessly through Japan. You slept on any available surface you could find, whether it was a park bench, an abandoned building, or a quiet corner of the street. Comfort was a luxury you could not afford, but through all the hardships, you kept your vow.

Not long after losing Tenko, your quirk manifested. Perhaps it was the universe trying to solidify your destiny, or maybe it was triggered by the intense stress and grief of the situation. The emergence of your quirk marked a turning point in your life, a sign that you were meant for something greater.

Dissonance—that’s what it had been coined. Your quirk allowed you to sing at any pitch and frequency, interrupting people's actions and even disturbing their thoughts when you were super concentrated. It was an impressive and versatile power, but it came with its own set of challenges. Overusing it could damage your vocal cords, and you quickly learned that you had to wear ear protection to prevent damaging your eardrums.

Your quirk was similar to Present Mic’s, but with a unique twist. Rather than projecting your natural voice to send strong radio waves, you changed pitch and frequency to gain control over your victims. This ability to manipulate sound and influence others made you a formidable force, capable of turning the tide in any confrontation. It was a pretty badass ability, and you felt fortunate to have it.

Your first encounter with your quirk was a mix of awe and fear. You remember the exact moment it manifested, the sensation of power coursing through your vocal cords, and the realization that you could control others with your voice. It was both thrilling and terrifying, knowing that such power resided within you.

Training with Dissonance was no easy feat. You spent countless hours practicing, learning to modulate your voice and control the effects of your quirk. You experimented with different pitches and frequencies, discovering the limits of your abilities and the toll it took on your body. Each session left your voice strained and your ears ringing, but you persisted, driven by the vow you made that fateful night.

Over time, you became adept at using Dissonance. You mastered the art of subtle manipulation, using your voice to calm crowds, disrupt enemies, and even plant suggestions in the minds of those around you. Your quirk became an extension of yourself, a tool to fulfill your mission of becoming a hero. Yet, you always remained cautious, aware of the potential harm to your vocal cords and ears.

The ear protection you wore became a signature part of your appearance, a constant reminder of the price you paid for your power. Despite the challenges, you embraced Dissonance, knowing that it gave you the means to protect others and honor the memory of Tenko. Your journey was far from over, but with each passing day, you grew stronger and more confident in your ability to make a difference.

All that suffering and pain, all those nights spent thinking it might be your last, it all led up to this moment—standing outside the gates of UA, the number one academy known for producing the best pro heroes. One of your idols, Endeavor, had even graduated from here.

Standing there felt like a dream, something you might wake up from only to realize that the rats you had tried to befriend in the alley you were staying in had stolen your last piece of food. But no, you were here. You had made it, for Tenko.

The gates of UA were grand, with large, blue overlapping letters proclaiming the academy's name. The grass inside the gates was lush and healthy, a green so vibrant and bright that it almost hurt to look at. Students chattered loudly, some shoving through the crowds in a desperate attempt to be on time to their classes, as they made their way up and down the wide stone path leading toward the tinted glass doors that matched the color of the sign at the entrance.

If you weren’t used to slinking through streets at this point, you might have found the overwhelming sounds suffocating. The birds chirping in the large trees and the boisterous laughter of students passing by could have been too much. However, you found great peace in the sounds, grounding yourself appropriately and maybe even taking a secret moment to bask in it all as you made your way to the lecture hall where you would be performing your entrance exam in hopes of getting admitted into the prestigious hero course.

You took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs. Every step you took felt like a step closer to fulfilling the vow you made years ago. The journey had been arduous, but the promise to yourself and to Tenko kept you moving forward. This was your chance to prove yourself, to show the world that the child who once shivered on a park bench could become a hero.

The entrance hall was buzzing with activity, and you could see the determination on the faces of other prospective students. They, too, had their own stories, their own dreams of becoming heroes. Yet, in that moment, all you could think about was Tenko and the promise you made to him.

The lecture hall was just as grand as the entrance, with rows and rows of curved tables where hundreds of people were piling in. Making your way up the stairs, you found a dark, secluded corner toward the top of the seating to set your ratty backpack filled with all that you owned. Two cans of tomato soup, a tiny battery-operated flashlight that was on its last leg, and a ripped raincoat. You had managed to wash quickly in a public pool shower before coming, so at least you weren’t donning your usual dirt streaks and dumpster smell. You even got lucky by running into an old woman on the street who had seen your tattered attire and dragged you to a nearby store to buy you a pair of leggings and a tie-dye t-shirt that was a bit too small and hugged your chest uncomfortably.

As you settled into your seat, you took a moment to observe the room. No one noticed or even tried to talk to you as they all took their seats and settled down. The air was thick with anticipation and nerves, a collective energy that buzzed through the hall. The walls were adorned with banners and posters, showcasing past graduates and famous heroes who had once sat where you were now.

Before you knew it, Present Mic himself was enthusiastically explaining the rules and point system of the entrance exam, using his quirk to amplify his already loud voice so the people in the far back could hear him. His voice boomed through the hall, energetic and powerful, capturing everyone’s attention. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement; this was real, and you were here, ready to take the first step toward your dream.

You felt bad for the group sitting in the front row, trying to hide their winces from the volume. Present Mic’s enthusiasm was infectious, though, and despite the discomfort, everyone listened intently. He explained the different components of the exam, the scoring system, and what would be expected of you. The stakes were high, but you had faced worse odds before.

After Present Mic had explained everything and answered a stuck-up kid’s question, we were off, being led toward a huge mock-up city where we would be battling “villain” robots and earning points.

Waiting was probably the worst part of the whole ordeal, standing outside the large metal walls outlining the city while teachers and other workers raced around setting up. During that time, people huddled in groups and mingled while you stayed toward the edge of it all, silently observing and hoping no one acknowledged your existence. Unfortunately, your hopes did not come to fruition as an energetic girl with fluffy pink hair bounced over to you, talking up a storm about her thoughts and feelings about the upcoming challenge of admission. She revealed her quirk, something to do with summoning and shooting acid out of her hands. It was totally badass and warmed you up to the idea of being her friend if you both made it past the entrance exams.

As the countdown started, Mina, the girl who had started talking to you, slinked away to get a fair chance at points. You readied yourself, nestling your foam earplugs into your ears and getting into position.

The atmosphere was electric with anticipation. The other students were all focused, their faces a mix of determination and anxiety. You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. This was it, the moment you had been preparing for.

Chaos erupted as everyone bolted through the doors, those toward the front effortlessly taking out the robots placed near the entrance. You quickly squeezed through the crowd and took off toward the left, following the barrier around the city and taking out several robots with simple hand-to-hand combat and some strategically placed wires. Toward the end of the timer, you had accumulated a comfortable score by just using your ordinary strength and discipline. Just as you were about to sweep your corner once more, you saw a huge three-pointer rolling your way with a gun full of blanks aimed at you.

Taking a breath, you narrowed your eyes and activated your quirk, singing the simple harmony of the birds you had encountered on the way toward the lecture hall at a much higher, earsplitting pitch. The robot immediately began to spark and convulse. However, you were caught up worrying whether you had hurt someone in the nearby area. By the time the robot was falling, it was too late. You had underestimated its size and got lost in your thoughts, and now you were about to be crushed. Unable to do anything, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, bracing for an impact that never came.

Slowly, hesitantly, you opened your eyes to find a pair of bright red ones staring back at you. His hair was red and styled into sharp spikes, his teeth also sharp as he smiled at you, the robot tossed to the side.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with worry as he walked over to check you for injuries. His voice was gentle, yet filled with concern, a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding you.

“I’m fine,” you responded quickly, dusting yourself off with a deep breath, trying and failing to calm your racing heart. You could still feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, making your hands shake slightly.

“That was a close one,” he chuckled, his laughter warm and reassuring. “I’m Kirishima, Eijiro Kirishima,” he said, holding out his hand with a friendly smile. His red hair gleamed under the natural light, and his eyes shone with an infectious energy.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kirishima,” you nodded, providing your own name as you shook his hand firmly. His grip was strong, his skin surprisingly rough, probably a result of his quirk. “How did you do that?”

“Oh, my quirk is hardening. I can make my body impenetrable,” Kirishima responded easily, his smile never wavering. He seemed so at ease, as if saving someone from a falling robot was an everyday occurrence. “What about you? I didn’t see what happened until it was about to fall on you.”

“Dissonance. Think Present Mic, but instead of projection, I can influence actions and thoughts with song,” you explained, taking a quick look around for any more targets before time ran out. The cityscape was littered with the remnants of destroyed robots, and a few students were still battling fiercely in the distance.

“That’s totally cool!” Kirishima gushed, his eyes widening with genuine admiration. “I hope we both make it. I’d love to get to know more about you and your quirk.”

“Thank you,” you blushed, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. His presence was surprisingly calming, a stark contrast to the intensity of the exam. “I hope you make it too,” you added, remembering your manners. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile.

With that, Kirishima left with a salute and a sharp smile, taking off up the mouth of the alleyway he must have come from. You watched him for a moment, appreciating his confidence and the way he carried himself. Then, snapping back to reality, you ran in the opposite direction, hoping to find any small point stragglers before time was out.

The city was a maze of debris and broken robots. Your eyes scanned the area, and you spotted a couple of small robots hiding behind a crumbling wall. With swift movements, you dispatched them, your quirk making short work of their circuits. Each note you sang was precise, each pitch carefully controlled to disrupt their systems without causing collateral damage.

The final buzzer sounded just as you took down the last robot, signaling the end of the exam. You stood there for a moment, catching your breath, and looking around at the other students. Some were panting heavily, while others were still in fighting stances, the adrenaline not yet wearing off.

You made your way back to the entrance, your heart still racing but now with a mix of relief and excitement. The memory of Tenko and the promise you made to him had driven you forward, and now you stood, panting and victorious, ready to see if you had done enough to secure your place at UA. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

It had been a few weeks since the UA entrance exam, and the weight of disappointment hung heavy as you wandered through the alleys, your thoughts consumed with how to scrape together enough money for a train ticket back to your usual haunts. You were on the verge of slipping down a street known for its desperate need for dog walkers when you were abruptly halted by a man in dark attire and a stiff, grey scarf.

"You're the girl from the entrance exam, right? The one with the voice?" His voice carried a weary undertone, and his demeanor seemed both exhausted and disinterested, a stark contrast to the chaos of the city around you. It was his tired gaze that triggered recognition—this was Eraserhead, the hero known for his ability to nullify quirks with a single glance.

"Uh, yeah, but I thought I didn’t make it when you guys didn’t contact me," you replied, your voice cracking slightly from dehydration. Water was scarce, and you hadn’t found more than dirty puddles to sip from along the way.

"You didn’t leave us with any contact information," he huffed, as though your lack of foresight was a personal inconvenience. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized the gravity of your oversight.

"Right," you stammered, "I’m sorry about that. It must have slipped my mind," you chuckled nervously, feeling like a ragged street urchin in your tattered raincoat and dirt-streaked leggings. The situation couldn’t get much more humiliating.

"Anyways," he sighed, as if eager to move past your blunder, "I’m here to tell you that you ranked second with sixty-eight points."

"Wow," you breathed, a mixture of relief and disbelief washing over you. You pressed a trembling hand against your chest, half expecting it to still the rapid beats of your heart. "Who was the next closest?"

"Third place earned thirty-nine points," he stated matter-of-factly, his expression betraying little emotion. It was clear he wasn’t one for unnecessary conversation.

"Thank you for tracking me down. I’m really sorry again. I didn’t think about how you’d be able to contact me—"

"Answer something for me, would you, kid?" Eraserhead interjected, running a hand through his unruly hair, which promptly fell back into place. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of scrutiny and weariness.

"Sure," you replied, adjusting the straps on your worn backpack, suddenly feeling acutely aware of your disheveled appearance.

"Are you living out here?" he inquired, gesturing vaguely to the bustling cityscape around you. Cars honked in the distance, and pedestrians hurried past, oblivious to your exchange. Shame washed over you, threatening to spill over into tears. You blinked them away hastily—crying was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not since Tenko’s death.

"Um, yeah," you admitted reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper. It was humiliating to acknowledge your transient existence, especially to a hero like Eraserhead.

Apparently satisfied with your response, Eraserhead flagged down a passing taxi and motioned for you to get in. The sudden gesture left you dumbfounded.

"What?" you blurted, stunned by the unexpected turn of events.

"I can’t have one of my students sleeping in alleyways. Get in," he instructed firmly, his red eyes flashing with an unspoken threat that sent a shiver down your spine. Without further protest, you stumbled into the backseat of the taxi, feeling more bewildered than ever.

The ride to UA was filled with uncomfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional honk of impatient drivers. As the city rushed past, you began to process everything—your unexpected second-place ranking, the realization that you had surpassed the competition without fully utilizing your quirk, and the daunting prospect of attending UA, a prestigious institution for aspiring heroes.

By the time the taxi pulled up to the entrance of UA, you were a whirlwind of emotions—hope, determination, and a renewed sense of purpose. This opportunity was more than just a chance to fulfill your dream; it was a promise to Tenko, a vow to become the hero he believed you could be.

Stepping out of the taxi, you straightened your posture, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Tenko, for yourself, you were prepared to seize this chance and become the hero you were destined to be.

[mr-crawlings-wife]

Pole vault

🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: reader being insecure and having a horrible self image, colorism cause Asian beauty standards are toxic. Reader mentioned to not be as white as A4 paper. Reader mentioned to be chubby and short. Reader lowkey checking hyun-su out.

It always infuriates you when you react to something in a manner that's slightly... Humiliating. When you can't hide how much you're affected. Whether that be for a positive or a negative thing.

You hate that all your emotions show up on your face. You hate that people can read you so easily. That people know exactly what cards to play to get to you.

That's exactly what you had thought when Hyun-su first approached you.

You were freshly dumped out of a toxic friend group when he'd met you.

At first you didn't pay him much mind. He was irresistible, yes. But... You knew he'd never like you. He was literally wanted by every girl in school. All they had left to do to get the point across was physically hunt him down.

You weren't conventionally pretty, skinny or social.

You didn't have too many friends in high school, just a senior and his little sister to hang around. And of course, the kind janitor.

Nobody really wanted to hang out with you, and... It might've been your fault. Partly.

You had been quite guarded and hostile during your freshman year, after getting bullied in middle school. Which drove people away. Cause aint nobody got the time to climb that wall.

But he did.

You two didn't even met all too often, small run ins at the convenient store that happens to stock your favorite drink and happens to be close to his school.

Passing by each other on the way to home. You'd be leaving a little late, cleaning up the club room with Eun-hyuk.

As soon as you'd step out the gate, you'd bump into him. Coincidentally. So many times... The timing so perfect you'd almost be convinced that he was waiting for you.

But of course he wouldn't. You two don't even know each other.

But he always tried to strike up conversations. At first, it was annoying. Painfully so, to be having to respond to small talk. Your head aching.

You had acted rudely quite a few times. Which he either laughed off, stayed quiet for 5 minutes, or give a rebuttal. The latter would ensue a verbal fist fight.... A one sided verbal fist fight. With you delivering the most hints and him walking it off.

You didn't understand what made him stick around. You wouldn't hang out with yourself either, than.. Why?

But then he began to grow on you. You began to somewhat look forward to it. At the time you'd blamed it on the made up fact that he'd become a part of your routine.

But now that you look back on it, that fondness was probably you finally beginning to accept him as a friend.

"Why that face? "

"What do you mean? " you responded, wiping away the obvious frown you had previously. Damnit, he has sharp eyes.

"Your face, are you.. Upset today? " his head tilted to the right, resembling a curious puppy.

"Maybe... " you shrugged, not really wanting to elaborate.

"Why? " he leaned in closer to your side.

Which made you a bit annoyed...or rather flustered "What why? "

"Well.. Tell me. "

"You... Wanna know? " you sounded surprised. And your surprise seemed to have made him surprised. As if he didn't expect that people don't actually wanna hear other's problems.

"I wanna. " he vehemently nodded his head, his fluffy hair bouncing in a way that made your fingers twitch at your side, wanting to touch it.

"Well... I've been.. Failing chemistry lately.. " you looked ahead at the road and slightly sped up your pace.

"Mhm.. "

"And... It's really taking a toll on me. "

"But why? "

You released a sigh through your nose in frustration, even if he grew on you, there was still a part of him that you hated, his 'why's that would dig into the parts that you didn't want to discuss, the parts that made you squirmy. Embarrassed.

"What do you mean 'why' ???!!? "

"Why do you care about your grades so much? "

"I... Isn't that normal? To care? " your attempted to deflect.

"Well... Yeah but.. Usually that's when your parents also care. And... It seems you dad doesn't necessarily? "

"... You know my dad? "

"Ran into him thrice. "

"Oh well.. You won't get it. " and that was your dismissal. The one thing he couldn't yet break past in this acquaintance like relationship that you share, that existed only on the road to home. And it upset him, that much you could gauge from his pout.

Silence ensued

"...."

".... "

"Okay... Maybe I won't" he muttered with a sigh of defeat. Clutching the strap of his book bag and bouncing it higher on his left shoulder.

More silence.

But not meaningless silence.

He was scratching the back of his head, and pulling at his bangs. Seemed like he had his thinking cap on.

"But, how about this? I'm pretty okay at chemistry so.. I'll tutor you? "

"For how much? "

"Uhm.. I dunno..free? "

You were surprised he'd be that generous.. But maybe it's not that surprising considering he's talking to you.

"You're not taking anything? "

"Not that I can think of... What are you willing to give? "

"Uhmm... Not money? "

He gave you a feigned glare of judgement.

"Cheapskate."

Oh... Had it struck 6:00 pm already? Seems like it's time for your routinely one sided verbal assault.

"Says the one who buys nearly expired bread. Thinks he's all that with that Vector lookin ass hair cut. Wearing above the knee shorts like a kindergartener but I guess it suits you since you got the mentality of one too. Would explain why you got spinach in your teeth-ALSO you said you don't want money, so that shouldn't even matter! You're just tryna get under my skin at this poi-"

"Tutor me in physics. "

"Huh? "

"Tutor, me, in, physics. "

"You're bad at physics of all things? " now it was your turn to be judgemental.

"Yeah, I know. Tragic that someone as perfect as me can have imperfections. But I believe that makes me all the more charming!!✨" the way he brushed his hair back and stepped under the street light made you want to roll your eyes into the next dimension.

"Stop acting like Tamaki. "

"Thought you liked him? " he grins that infuriatingly charming grin and wiggles his eye brows teasingly.

"That was a horrible impression. " you say after a feigned gag.

"Ehhhh whatever. Gimme your number. "

"Huh? "

"For the tutoring session? I mean, if it's like at your house and mine, I'm fine with that too... Not that I know your address so.... Might need that. "

Of course... He'd never ask for your number.

A realization hits you and you suddenly start stomping off. BECAUSE WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CARE ABOUT HIM ASKING FOR YOUR NUMBER?? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAD A CRUSH ON HIM OR ANYTHING??? BRO IS YOUR SELF ESTEEM REALLY THAT LOW THAT YOU'D GET AFFECTED EACH TIME A PRETTY BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE WITH YOU????? AJHZJAHXJNSZN

"OIIIII! WAIT! WHAT HAPPENED??!! WHAT THE HEL-"

He yelled, running after you. Grabbing your hand and turning you around, and your forehead hit his chin.

"Ouch! Ahhhh... " he mutters rubbing it. You didn't apologize, head too busy spinning in circles. His hold wasn't that strong. It was firm.. But you could definitely break it off had you tried.

"What's the matter? I mean, if it's too much.. Fine we can forget we ever agreed to that. I just... I just wanted to help....... "

Silence from you.

"Look I.... I wasn't trying to upset you so like... I'm sorry if I did... Can you... " he looks into your eyes pleadingly and all you give him back is silence.

"Can you at least tell me so that... So that I can properly apologize? " he was nervous. He looked like he was an inch away from whimpering like a kicked puppy. And you slowly began to come back from your disassociative state.

"No it's... Uhhh.." Why's he looking at you with those eyes...

"Yes? "

"Sure I'll give you my number... And... Anddd... "

"And? " and then you kinda just rambled off without thinking because you'd become hyper aware for his hand around your wrist and his warm touch against your cold.

"Andddd.... Annddd we can't do it at home... They'll... Probably assume that we're.... We're.... "

"Dating? "

"Yeah... That... " you nodded, staring at his lips and nose. Too afraid to look into his eyes. Too afraid that you'd crumble to your knees at the sight. At the touch of him against you. Why does it feel so nice? It's like you're floating. It's making you dizzy. Because it's him, Hyun-su. The boy you used to watch play from your window when you were 9. The one you'd leave random things for on his doorstep. Hoping at least he'd notice. He didn't have to like it. Just acknowledge them. He probably doesn't remember the many times you've met before. Because you were a nobody. A nobody that he was now standing in front of. Holding onto. His was so close. You could almost smell his cologne and a hint of sweat. His body was so close. Heat literally radiating off of it. You could make out the muscles under his shirt. God you were such a pervert.

"Hey... You okay? " when that sweet saccharine voice of his flows into your ear, you feel like you might just collapse. Fuck, when did his face get so close? Your knees are starting to buckle and you hope that you crash into his chest when you fall. So that you can hear if his heart is beating as fast as yours. Maybe that'd break this fantasy of yours. Because who'd want to be with you. You were chubby. Your inner thighs brushed against each other when you walked, you got tummy rolls when you sat down. You were short. Your skin wasn't pale. You didn't have any particular talents. Your only sense of self worth based on your scores-

"Y/n?? " now both his hands were on your cheeks, squishing your face slightly. His worried yet angelic face so close you felt like you were suffocating, heart in your throat.

A car horn broke the haze.

You peeled off his hands and continued walking.

After a few paces you uttered a number as he stayed behind, beyond confused.

"xxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

"What? "

"My number? "

"Oh... Could you repeat that? " he quickly pulled out his cellphone. Growing confused when you picked at your nails.

"Hmmm... I don't know... My throats kinda dry... A soda would help me speak... " you thought he probably would give up after this.

"ALRIGHT! LESSS GO!! ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*"

He was so overjoyed that he almost dropped his phone. Grabbing onto your hand and running across the street so fast that you almost got whiplash.

His touch was still electrifying. But not like before, where it was to the point that you wanted to squirm away.

When you two arrived at the convenient store, you were the one to break off his hold. As you could feel your lips quirking up. And you didn't want that. You didn't want to be vulnerable in front of him. Not yet.

He was nice. Probably the nicest guy you'd ever met and you didn't want that illusion to be broken too quickly. So let him be cautious, let him think he doesn't affect you.

As you left the convenient store, sipping your soda and his phone in hand, dialing in your number.

You took a glance at his lock screen before returning it. "You're such a basic bitch. "

"Heyy!" He just pouted in return.

Silence again...

But...

Oddly.. Okay?

Comfortable even.

"Did you mean that when you said there's spinach in my teeth? "

Of course he never shuts up. And you loved him for that. Because he didn't just climb that wall. He fucking pole vaulted over it.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

I might've portrayed him wrong but I wanted to give off the feeling that he was really comfortable around reader. And also this is before he got bullied so... Yeah. Probably didn't portray reader's insecurities well enough either. This is so cringe god help me I just wanna get to monster part.

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[gemsofgreece]

Happy November 17th with music!!!

Greece has three national holidays; March 25th, the Independence Day, October 28th, the ΟΧΙ (No) Day aaaaand November 17th, the Polytechneio Day.

In fact, November 17th is considered a semi-national day, as it doesn't commemorate an ethnic uprising against some foreign oppressor or invader but the political intranational uprising against the Colonel Dictatorship of 1967-1974. It is the anniversary of the revolt that took place in the National "Metsovion" Technical University of Athens (Εθνικό Μετσόβιο Πολυτεχνείο - Ethnikó Metsóvio Polytechnío) by its students in November 1973. (Greek Polytechneia are high education engineering universities, so they are not the equivalent to technical schools.) The uprising was the most impactful anti-junta movement in Greece - students commandeered the University, operated a radio station and started protesting against the junta and spreading effectively the message to the Greek people, who started gathering around the school. Their effective protests harmed the dictators, who sent the army to surround the university and threaten the students. While the students and the junta were still in negotiations, the army broke the academic asylum, a tank demolished the gates and soldiers invaded the school. During the episodes that ensued, there were 40 deaths and more than 2,000 injured reported. The Polytechnic movement did not bring down the junta, however it was a crucial contributor to its weakening and to the spread of awareness against it across the globe. (The dictatorship eventually fell about half a year later, during the Turkish invasion of Cyprus, in which Greece failed to provide significant assistance to Cyprus or even protect its own interests.)

The spirit of the university's revolutionaries as well as the general hardship Greece went through in those seven years were the inspiration for a lot of great artists, particularly poets and musicians, and birthed numerous classic Greek songs. Below are four of my favourite ones, from the many that became symbols of this era, and are today sung by school choirs across the country!

Ὀταν σφίγγουν το χέρι - When they clench their fist

Ο Δρόμος - The Road

Θα σημάνουν οι καμπάνες - The bells will toll

Είμαστε δυο - We are two

Lyrics of the last one in English:

We are two, we are two, it's eight o'clock, turn off the light, the guard knocks, they'll come again at night one in the front, one in the front, and the rest will be following him, then silence and what follows is the usual again. They hit twice, they hit thrice, they hit one thousand thirteen times, you are hurting, I am hurting too but who is hurting the most, only time will tell.

We are two, we are three, we are one thousand thirteen, we ride the times, in time, in rain blood thickens in the wound and the pain turns into a nail. (x2)

The avenger, the saviour, we are two, we are three, we are one thousand thirteen.

[redlittlefoxari]

To The Ends Of Faêrun : Chapter Thirteen: On Hold

This series is book two of a fanfic I have already written called Astarion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making Life

Master List Here for Books One, and Two

*List includes a prequel that is essentially one-shots of their adventures over the fifty years after the battle at the end of the game*

Warnings: Blood, Sex, Violence, NSFW 18+, Smut

Summary: Tav has a chat with Gale about Apple not attending school for a while while asking him to come along.

As Tav walked through the portal, swirls of purples and blues caressed her skin as she was taken across the Sword Coast in a matter of seconds. It felt as if she was underwater but able to breathe. The Weave knew where to take her due to the magic channel that Gale had opened between their home in Baldur’s Gate and his in Waterdeep. Apple had traveled countless times to get to and from school, always marveling at the Weave's power. Tav smiled as she remembered the first time she, Astarion, and Apple went through the portal to drop her off into the care of Gale of Waterdeep. She was mesmerized and fell in love with magic instantly. A frown pulled her smile down as Tav remembered that Apple would not be going to school tomorrow, and instead, they would be preparing to find Mielikki. 

Gale’s office came into focus, and Tav looked around the room to see if the dusty old wizard was in his office this time of day or if he had retreated to his bed for the night. The room was an utter mess, with papers strewn across the floors and books stacked as high as they could go in multiple stacks. It was a wonder how Gale ever found anything in this place with how messy everything was. The perfect touch came in the form of a red loveseat that would have been beautiful if not for the claw marks torn up the side that Tav could see. It looked as if Tara had gotten a hold of it at some point. 

“Tav!?” Gale’s voice sounded from behind a stack of papers on the desk. The only neat pile that could be found in the room. “What are you doing here this time of night?”

Tav looked at her old friend. He looked the same as he had fifty years ago. A glamour was in place to hide what he really looked like, opting to keep a younger appearance. The only sign of aging was the pair of glasses he wore. Over the years, squinting at books in dim candlelight had taken its toll, and now it was the only thing that gave away his age. 

“Oh, you know…” Tav walked over to the loveseat and plopped down. “I just thought I would come and say hello.” 

“Astarion not enough for you anymore?” Gale took off his glasses and placed them beside his stack of papers. “I knew this would happen; he is getting up there in age.” 

“You’re one to talk.” Tav scoffed. “Astarion is an ageless vampire, and I think you are somewhere in your nineties.” She offered a smug smile. “I don’t need an old mage in the bedroom.” 

“Then tell me.” He smiled at Tav’s good-natured jabbing. “What do you need from an old mage like me then?” 

She hesitated, trying to find the right words to tell him everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. It was hard to believe that their whole life had been turned upside down in just two days. All her little girl wanted to do was help Tav. She couldn’t fault her for wanting to help her parents. What she could do was teach her what to do next time and hope she would never do anything like this again. 

Tav took a deep breath. “Apple is going to be out of school for a while.” 

“How long and what for?” Gale raised his eyebrows and looked at her like a stern principal. “Is everything alright at home?”

“Everything is fine at home as far as the three of us are concerned.” Tav gave him a withering look. “And I’m not sure for how long, probably at least five months.” 

“Five months!?” Gale stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. “What could possibly be the reason for her having to miss that much school!?” His face was starting to go red. “This is a very important time in a young wizard's life where we build our fundamentals and start building our practice.” He began pacing. “There better be a good reason and not for some silly vacation because that can wait till summer break.” 

Tav tried to hold in her laughter as Gale, the principal, took full center stage. She had never seen him so serious in all the time that she knew him. The laid-back wizard she knew took a backseat as he scolded her. 

“It’s not a vacation, Gale. It’s something quite serious, and if we fail, it can have serious repercussions on our family.” Tav stayed seated. 

“So it’s a quest?” Gale picked up his chair and took a seat facing Tav. “Well, come on out with it, now that I’ve made an ass of myself.” 

“Apple made a deal with a goddess in exchange for making it easier for me to produce a child.” Tav pursed her lips and continued. “It was my fault… I accidentally set Angharradh free and constructed the deal first, but I told her I wouldn’t agree until after talking to Astarion.” Tav bit the inside of her cheek. “Angharradh was listening in on the conversation when we had decided to say no.” She showed him her forearm tattoo. “And then she decided to use Apple as collateral  to get me to do the quest anyways by convincing her to sign in my place and making the collateral that if we tried to back out or if we failed, she gets to take Apple back to Arvandor.”

Gale sat in silence as he listened to the whole tale. “I see; well, That would be a good excuse; getting mixed up with the goddess who created all elvenkind is pretty big...” 

“Yeah…” Tav looked away. “It’s a bit of a clusterfuck.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Gale scratched the back of his head. “You never discussed the dangers of accepting deals from strange otherworldy beings with her.” 

“She's six, Gale!” Tav looked back at him and threw up her hands. “I thought I would need to worry about teaching her what a period was before that!” 

“Fair point; sometimes I forget how young she really is.” He steepled his fingers out before him, balancing his elbows on his knees. “She is very bright, best in her class, and if I’m honest, should be placed in a higher class, but I fear that would mess with her fundamentals.”

“Are we really having a parent-teacher conference right now?” Tav gave him a deadpan look.

“No better time than the present to tell you that Apple is remarkable. She reminds me of myself when I was her age.” Gale smiled brightly. “She will be fine.”

“I have a favor to ask of you, Gale.” Tav put on her best begging face. “Is there any way you could come with us?” She placed her palms together and grimaced. “Please, I know you run a whole school, but we need you… Apple needs you.” Tav gave him a sad smile. “I need you.” 

Gale scratched his beard in thought. The anticipation ate away at Tav as he took his time thinking through his answer. She saw bits of an old man underneath the glamour, taking his time as if he were ordering breakfast or deciding what to wear. Tav leaned in to emphasize just how important it was that he didn’t take one hundred years to answer.

“I cannot, in good faith, let Apple neglect her studies and not supply her with the best wizarding teacher the Sword Coast has to offer.” Gale Moved his chair quickly back to his desk, excitement spreading across his face. “I’ll come with you.” 

“Really? You’ll leave your duties behind to go on an adventure with your old friends so that Apple doesn’t fall behind?” Tav smiled at the old Wizzard, and then suspicion set in. “That’s awfully generous of you, Gale… I’m happy that you’ll come, but I want to know the real reason why.”

Gale cleared his throat. “I have some benefactors coming to town, and I would rather not have to kiss their asses while they are here.” Gale started grabbing quills and fresh paper. “Besides, if they hear I’m off on a worldly adventure given to me by a goddess, they can’t be mad and will have to settle for the person I leave in my sted.” 

“Whatever works, I guess.” Tav watched as Gale started to squiggle lesson plans down on the fresh paper.

“We have enough professors that I’m not needed here anyway.” Gale waved a hand in the air as a book from one of the stacks flew to his open hand. “I mostly just sit in my office now anyways.” 

“Well, alright.” Tav got up from the loveseat and started making her way to the door. “We should leave by the end of the week. We’ll need to gather supplies, speak to the others, and close down the tailor shop.” Tav looked at Gale, who was barely paying attention to what she was saying. “so get what you need, and we will see you on Friday. Just come through the portal at any time.”

“I’ll see you then!” Gale didn’t look up as he waved goodbye to Tav. 

Tav gave her friend one last smile of appreciation before opening the closet door and walking through the portal back home. As her home came back into focus and she was back in Baldur’s Gate, she could hear the sounds of Astarion giving Apple a lecture in the kitchen. She followed the sound and found Apple sitting at the small table by the window, pencil in hand, as Astarion stood a few feet away from her doing something she never thought she would see him do: be strict with her. 

“If you ever make a deal with a god, goddess, fey, fairy, demon, or anything else of the sort, I will ground you until you are one hundred. Do you hear me?” Astarion looked irate as he listed off every creature that was the capital of making deals. “Also, I know you know how to read,” he continued. “So why is it that you failed to read the part of the contract you signed that stated you would be taken away from us?” 

“I don’t know.” Apple sounded tearful as she answered back. “She looked so nice I didn’t think she would do that sort of thing.” 

“That’s the point, honey,” Tav spoke up to stop the onslaught. “They look innocent so that you will trust them. Just don’t make deals with anyone, not even people you think are your friends.” 

Apple beamed as she saw Tav, the look in her eyes pleading as she looked back toward Astarion. She looked as if she had stuck her face in a pool of boiling water. The whites of her eyes were red, and so was her normally pale face. Tav’s heart broke at the sight of her daughter in such a state. 

“You’re back.” Astarion turned and walked towards her. “What did he say?”

“That he’ll come.” Tav wrapped her arms around Astarion, and he did the same. “Now we just need to find out where Shadowheart and Halsin are.” She pulled him into a tight embrace. “We need to find out where Mielikki is as soon as possible, and Halsin knows all about the forest, but it’s anyone's guess if he’s at the grove or the Last Light settlement.” 

“We have to have more sending scrolls, or we can go out and buy some.” Astarion kissed her head. “When did you tell Gale we were leaving?”

“I told him Friday.” She pulled away from him to look into his eyes. “That gives us five days to gather supplies, get her some armor.” She jabbed her thumb toward Apple. “And close down the shop.” Tav pursed her lips. “What do you think?” 

“Sounds like our fearless leader has woken up from her long rest and is ready to come out of retirement.” Astarion gave her a sad smile. “We will find Mielikki… I’m not losing her.” He moved his hands to cup her face. 

“We won’t.” Tav returned the same smile. “Not as long as I breathe, and there’s still some fight left in me.” 

He stroked her cheek with his thumb in a loving gesture, and they stared into each other's eyes, forgetting the world around them. Astarion pulled her to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on Tav’s lips that told her everything she was too afraid to say. It was tender and purposeful, but also desperate and fearful. Over the many years the two had gone on adventures together, there had never been a time where either of them was unsure of what the adventure would hold, and the stakes were never this high. Failure meant Apple would be taken away against her will and placed in the service of a goddess on a plane of existence that no mortal could reach.

“I will burn Arvandor to the ground before I let her take our child.” His eyes locked on hers as he made his vow. “Every god and goddess will die by my hands if she so much as touches her.” 

“We won’t have to worry about that because we will not fail.” She touched his forehead to hers and closed her eyes. “I would run to the ends of Faerun and slay any beast that came between the three of us.” 

The two stood in silence as they listened to the sound of their breaths, and Apple watched her parents as they held each other. It was clear she didn’t know what was truly at stake and to what extent her parents would go through to see to it that they would stay together. Either one of them was ready to sacrifice their life for the other. Or in service to protect their child, who was the ultimate symbol of the love that they shared. 

Apple got up from where she sat and made her way to Tav and Astarion. She wrapped her arms around them, squeezing them as tight as her little arms would allow. The three of them stayed in that position, holding one another and cementing their vows. Their child still did does not fully understand what was happening. 

A sizzling sound tore Tav and Astarion’s attention away from each other. On the stove sat the stew, still cooking the whole time they were dealing with everything that had happened. Astarion ran a hand through his hair and released Tav, walking over to the stove to take the pot off the heat. 

“Well then.” Astarion turned back to face Tav and Apple. “I think we all better eat something.” He gave his best-practiced smile. “We’re going to need our strength for what’s coming.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They put Apple to bed in their bed, fearing that Angharradh would return and invoke more chaos. Tav and Astarion took the time to read a long story before tucking her in for the night. They both got on either side of Apple for an added wall of protection. Sitting so that their backs sat against the headboard. It felt as if their whole world had just been turned upside down. Right when they had made it their goal to start putting the work back into their relationship, introducing more of themselves back into each other's lives. 

Once Apple’s eyes fluttered shut and her breaths became softer, signaling that she had fallen asleep, Astarion and Tav let out a long, deep sigh as they tilted their heads back so they rested on the wood behind them. Tav’s hands moved to cover her face as she thought about everything that had just happened. 

“I’ve done the same thing to Apple that my own mother did to me.” Tav’s heart hurt as she whispered her admission of guilt.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Astarion asked, speaking at the same volume as Tav. “Did you also make a deal with a goddess so that your mother could have children?” One eyebrow rose. “Because you might have left that part out in earlier conversations.” 

“No, I did not.” Tav uncovered her face. “But I’m the whole reason she felt the need to accept that deal… because I kept saying that I’m broken.”

“What does that have to do with your mother?” Astarion looked confused. “Sure, she also had problems conceiving, but that’s hardly your fault.” He took her hand. “I’m just as much to blame as to why we are having trouble. I am a vampire, after all.” He gave her a sad smile. 

“Yes, but you didn’t go around saying you were broken.” Tav squeezed his hand. “I don’t think she ever heard me say it, but she got the message all the same.” Tav let out a sigh. “When I was little, I could always hear my mother crying in her room, saying that there was something wrong with her… That she was broken.” 

“I remember you telling me when we first discovered we were pregnant with Apple… You were so frightened to tell anyone, even our friends.” Astarion rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. 

“My mother kept me hidden away like a doll for so long, telling me that I was special because she was broken and I was her little miracle.” Tav felt her heart skip a beat. “I may not have locked Apple away, but I did the same thing to her that my mother did to me… She must have heard me crying yesterday, or maybe she heard me say I was broken.” 

“No sense in worrying when she heard you or how it happened; what’s done is done, and we just need to be sure in the future that we do a better job of not saying that word. ”He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Because it’s not true.”

“It feels like it’s true.” Tav closed her eyes. “I know every elf has the same problem, but it's hard not feeling like you are broken or something is wrong with you.” She opened her eyes and looked into his. “It’s like it’s ingrained into my soul, especially after years of having sex and nothing.”

“We only just started trying a few months ago.” Astarion looked confused. 

“But we’ve been having sex for years.” Tav gave him a sad smile. “It’s not like we stopped after we had Apple. It wasn’t as much, but we still had sex at least once every two weeks.” 

“You counted?” He looked shocked. 

“Every time.”

Astarion looked like he was calculating something in his head before speaking again. “Were you taking tests this whole time?” 

“Gods, no!” Tav sprang up from her position. “A few of the ladies at the shops had said something about how after they had kids, their sex lives slowed down, and I wanted to see if that was true, which it is.” 

It wasn’t as if Tav only waited for Astarion to proposition her for sex. It was equal. The reason they had slowed down in terms of how much they did the act was Apple. With her keen vampiric hearing and magical abilities, more often than not, when they started to get in the mood, she would barge in. Catching Astarion feeding on Tav a few times and led to a conversation about asking for consent to bite someone, which usually snuffed out any burning desires either of them had in the moment.

“Having children can really kill the mood.” Astarion deflated as he looked down at Apple’s sleeping form and found that he agreed. “Does this mean we are putting our romantic endeavors on hold until we finish cleaning up this mess?”

“I don’t see how we can… be romantic when sharing a tent with Apple.” Tav shrugged.

“Fair point.” Astarion looked devastated. “I was looking forward to devouring you with all my pent-up carnal lust.” 

Tav smiled. “Then we better finish this quest as fast as possible.” She leaned into his touch. 

Astarion leaned over Apple. Tav did the same until their lips touched, meeting in the middle. They shared a tender kiss with no intentions behind it. The only thing it conveyed was the promise of what was yet to come and that there would be more in time, but that things were on hold for the time being.

Tag list:

@ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave @littlekidsteve @omnia--mea-mecum-porto porto @ayselluna @myreadingmanga123 @kismet-of-the-divine @nicalysm @justlilpeaches21 @five-salty-bitters @lenarosic88 @caydevakarian @supervrgnsokay-blog @ravenswritingroom @kalypsoox @foxiecelery @wisteriaofthegraves

[xxnashiraxx]

24, 37, 53, 56 and 63 for the writer ask game! 🥰❣️

Thank you for asking, lovely friend! You can find the original post here!

24. Worst Writing Advice Anyone Ever Gave You? I don't have too many instances where I'd specifically reached out and asked, honestly I was trying to hide it as much as possible, haha. But I think the one that sticks out the most, through no particular source, would be to write all the time, constantly. That doesn't help you, it drains you and takes a horrible mental toll on you if you don't regulate yourself and take a break from time to time. I struggle with feeling like I should always be doing something, always be productive, but trust me- taking a nice step back from time to time can actually help waaaay more. 🖤🖤

37. How Do You Choose Where to End a Chapter? This is such a good question- I like to make a slight impact with my chapter endings and I guess, though it really isn't this complicated in my head when I'm doing it, is to play on an emotion. For romance, I could end on angst or longing, for complicated feelings and emotions I like to end on a realization or the struggle of further confusion and its resulting aggravation. I also like to pepper in little crumbs regarding an ongoing plot that hasn't been fully unraveled yet, mostly so the readers feel like they're wrapping their heads around the mysteries along with me. It's fun! But not always super clear cut. 💕

53. How Do You Spend Your Time When it Comes to Fanfiction? Are You Primarily a Fic Reader, Writer, or a Perfect 50/50 Split of Both?

I have alternated and balanced this ratio out as time has gone on! Back when I first started in high school, I was primarily 50/50. Over the years I kind of lost my muse, or I'd write for myself very sparingly (maybe once a year or so, and less than 10k during that period) with things that I found interesting, but I didn't really delve back into the hobby until last July. I was a reader, consuming literally everything Nalu (Fairy Tail) until resuming a long fic I'd planned out 4 years ago and never finished. Unfortunately, or in other words, fortunately for me, I discovered Baldur's Gate, and after Astarion, there was no going back (rip my Alvarez Arc rewrite, may she rest in peace). Now I tend to lean more towards the writer portion since I'm writing my current long fic (With Stars to Fill My Dream) and doing some Astarion Kinktober prompts, but once this month ends and I'm on my longer post schedule, I am hoping to catch up on all the fics I haven't been able to read that are sitting in my browser (I have 30+ tabs open, it's ridiculous...)

56. What's Something About Your Writing That You Pride Yourself On?

Oh boy... I don't say this as a fish for compliments, but I'm not really sure I do anything too different from other people! I have heard a kind of general consensus on my horror aspects, and while I personally think they're extremely tame for my own standards and I know I'm my worst critic and think they can always be improved upon, that's something that really sticks with me. I have never published in the excess that I have now, and it literally means the world to me when anyone comments on anything they think sticks out when they read my fics. If I had to go with anything else, I'd say that my little details have really improved during the time I've been a writer. I've done many little links back to earlier conversations and imagery with callbacks in WSTFMD that I'm very proud of. I just hope it's not too obscure that people miss it!

63. Something You Hate to See in Smut.

Look, I'm really open-minded, and if anything isn't my cup of tea of course I wouldn't seek it out. That should always be established. Glaringly obvious things would be anything illegal, but going into the real bones, I'd probably have to say some "terms" for "areas" on the body being overused or out of place kind of bother me. I really don't have too many crazy ones here, I'm guilty of using some anatomically incorrect situations simply for the sake that it pleases me and I find it hot- nothing more, lol. It doesn't have to be 100% factual, it's fun and that's all that really matters! Unless you're hurting someone or doing something shitty, I really don't have a lot of issues. 😊

Again, tysm!!! 💖💖💖

[shiiiksa]

hey, isn’t that CATHERINE “CATE” COHEN, who looks a little like NAOMI WATTS? i hear SHE is a FIFTY TWO year old CIS WOMAN who works as a INTERIOR DESIGNER & BUSINESS OWNER OF “SKIN BY CATE” who has been in town for 50 YEARS. they ARE a member of one of aspen creek’s founding families. you can usually find them at MAPLE GROVE or LA BELLA VITTA. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of GOLDEN HAIR LIKE LIQUID SUNLIGHT, EXTRAVAGANCE IN FORM OF A SMELL, RED-TINTED SMIRKING LIPS, THE SMOOTHNESS OF A PEARL NECKLACE, FINGERS ADORNED IN SPARKLING RINGS. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through!

tw: infidelity.

cate's biography.

Catherine “Cate” Cohen was born Catherine Ann Lenoir into a humble farming family, that has worked under the Danes family for years now. At just two years old, she moved to Aspen Creek. With a deep appreciation for her upbringing, Cate blossomed into a determined young woman.

In high school, she met Benjamin Cohen, the man she believed to be her soulmate. Their whirlwind romance led them to marry shortly after graduation, eager to build their lives together. By twenty-three, Cate welcomed twins, soon followed by their youngest child. From the outside, their family life seemed idyllic, marked by lively dinner parties and social gatherings in their gated community. However, beneath the surface, Cate silently suffered with her husband’s increasing distance. As Ben entered the realm of politics, the pressures of expectation pushed by his own father began to take a toll on their marriage.

Determined to maintain her sense of self, Cate channeled her energy into her career as an interior designer. Inspired by her mother’s nurturing spirit, she balanced work and family life, striving to create a loving environment for her children. As a non-Jewish spouse in the Cohen family, she often faced subtle prejudice, referred to as a “shiksa” at gatherings. Yet, she embraced the term, using it as a badge of resilience in the face of her mother-in-law’s disdain. Ben’s mother never liked her, but Cate loved him and was willingly to see things through for the sake of their love.

Cate’s world shattered when she discovered Ben’s affair. The emotional fallout was devastating; their already strained relationship crumbled under the weight of betrayal. They were barely speaking at the time, since Ben was always busy and Cate had decided to pour her energy into her work, launching a skincare line focused on older women. She had hoped for reconciliation, believing that their empty nest would allow them to rediscover each other and fall back in love. Instead, she was left heartbroken as she watched Ben move on without her. The backlash was major and she was actually happy to see him suffer for once. 

The facade of the perfect mayor’s housewife began to crumble. Years spent trying to gain acceptance and approval evaporated, leaving her to confront the reality of her situation. Yet, through the pain, Cate remained unwavering in her love for her children, becoming a devoted grandmother to her only grandchild and supporting her son in his own betrayal. She’s essentially becoming the Deb Scott of Aspen Creek and we’re yet to see how that will all unfold. 

In a community that had once celebrated her, Cate now stands on the precipice of reinvention, determined to reclaim her identity and find joy in the chapters yet to come.

cate's wanted connections.

best friends & close friends. I’d love a group of close knit friends for her, the people that really had her back during those rougher times as she rebuild herself.

neighbors Anyone that lives in Maple Grove!

drinking buddies You know that woman has been with a glass of wine in hand since the scandal was released so anyone that can keep that energy going with her.

enemies Anyone that dislikes her!

friends to lovers Something kind of like Lorelai and Luke. The slow burn she needs as she regains her confidence in love.

friends with benefits / one-night stands A girl has needs!

clients Can be from her interior designer or skincare business!

anything!!

[beardedmrbean]

With violence erupting between Israel and Palestinian militant groups over the weekend, there are already reports of attacks on Jews and Jewish communities prompted by the latest chapter of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Several incidents have so far been recorded in Britain, where the authorities have stepped up protective measures, but early reports suggest possible instances of hate in Paris and New York as well.

The attacks by Hamas and Islamic Jihad militants—which began on Saturday and coincided not only with the Sabbath but the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah—have already led to an estimated 1,100 confirmed deaths in Israel and Gaza and thousands of wounded, including many civilians. Nine American citizens are among the dead, according to the State Department.

After Israel's defense minister, Yoav Gallant, ordered a "complete siege" of the Gaza Strip, the death toll is expected to rise significantly.

While many world leaders were quick to condemn the attacks by Hamas militants, some activists have viewed the killings as a justified response to the Israeli treatment of Palestinians.

Despite holding Jews collectively responsible for the actions of the state of Israel being an example of antisemitism cited by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance's working definition of Jew-hate, there are early suggestions that some are already doing just that.

On Monday, the British newspaper Jewish News reported that a Kosher restaurant in a predominantly Jewish part of London had been vandalized, with a door smashed in. Nearby bridges had been graffitied with the words "Free Palestine."

"There is no tolerance for hate in our city," Mayor of London Sadiq Khan wrote in response. "I remain in close contact with the Met Police. Whoever did this will face the full force of the law."

The Community Security Trust, a U.K.-based charity that provides security to Jewish institutions, said it was "already seeing incidents of racist antisemitism against Jewish people and property in response to the awful terror attack in Israel."

On Sunday, CST Chief Executive Mark Gardner said he had spoken with the British Home Secretary Suella Braverman and security minister Tom Tugendhat, who has Jewish ancestry, about measures that were needed to protect Jews.

"CST was already on a high security alert and deployment," he said. "That's because of the general situation of antisemitism right now here in the U.K. Those security deployments will continue for as long as necessary."

According to The Times, the CST has already received reports of verbal abuse mentioning the situation in the Middle East being hurled at Jewish people or synagogues. The Metropolitan Police has stepped up patrols in response to incidents shared on social media.

"We are aware that this conflict has a far-reaching impact on communities around the world, and we extend our full support to those affected in London," Deputy Assistant Commissioner Andy Valentine said in a statement.

"We are aware that a number of demonstrations and protests are planned. We have spoken to the organizers and we expect these will pass off peacefully," he added. "However, we will take a zero-tolerance approach to any activity which crosses the lines into criminality."

Braverman wrote in an X, formerly Twitter, post on Sunday: "There must be zero tolerance for antisemitism or glorification of terrorism on the streets of Britain. I expect the police to use the full force of the law against displays of support for Hamas, other proscribed terrorist groups or attempts to intimidate British Jews."

Elsewhere, video footage online appears to show a man being detained by police outside the gates of Beth Hanna Jewish school in Paris's 19th arrondissement. The person who posted the clip alleged the man had been impersonating a Jew and had been found to have "several knives" on him.

Though Newsweek was able to verify the location of the footage, it could not immediately confirm the full nature of the incident. The Parisian police were contacted via email for comment on Monday.

Meanwhile, images of demonstrators at a pro-Palestinian rally in New York City's Times Square on Sunday show one protester holding up an image of a Nazi swastika on his phone during the event. Displaying a swastika in New York is considered a hate crime and a criminal offense.

Before the march had taken place, New York Governor Kathy Hochul criticized it as "morally repugnant."

[genericpuff]

I really wanna make a comic like you did but I feel so discouraged and idk... I wish I had your motivation and discipline :(

how do you do it?

I mean - and I'm gonna try and phrase this as best as I can without sounding curt - 'motivation' as people tend to view it... isn't really how you get shit done. Like obviously I had to be motivated to take on projects like Time Gate and Rekindled but that initial motivation isn't what keeps me going each week. People tend to have the general idea that motivation comes first, action second, but you actually need to take action in order to gain motivation, as the motivation to continue comes best from seeing the results of your work. And those results can only happen if you take action.

Discipline isn't the same as motivation, either. Discipline is not beating yourself over the head to force yourself to "do the thing" - rather, discipline can only come from creating routine. It's what I've done with creating comics, but it only came after a long time doing it. And when I say a 'long time', I don't mean a week or a month or even a year, I mean a solid decade of work. Before Lore : Rekindled, I was working on Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH]; before that I drew Time Gate: Reaper; before Reaper I drew Uzuki; and before THAT I was in high school just doodling personal comics for myself (i.e. not for an audience). And every single project came with its own learning experience, audience, and results that motivated me to continue (though for some of them, I never did, a big part of growth and succeeding is knowing that failure is inevitable and some projects you just grow out of love with, even routine can't save you from not continuing a project that you're simply not enjoying doing anymore).

Drawing comics and writing is as routine to my day and life as going to work, eating, sleeping, showering, etc. even if I don't feel compelled to work, I'll still find myself picking away at a panel or two or coming up with a story beat to fill in where I'm going next. It's the kind of compulsion that comes not from internal motivation, but from not doing the thing that you usually do and that can only be gained from building habits and routine. I may not get the same amount of work done each day, some days I'll work on comics for 8 hours straight and others I'll only get a single panel done, but I still get something done (which is better than nothing, not getting anything done at ALL in the face of 'waiting' for motivation is where a lot of that discouragement can come from) and that's been reinforced into a routine that now feels effortless to do because I've been doing it so long. Just like building up any good habit like going to the gym or doing a skincare routine or drinking more water, it can feel impossible to do in the beginning, but the more you do it and commit to that routine - even when you don't 'feel' like doing it - the less overwhelming and impossible it feels and the easier it is to see it through.

As you fulfill those habits in the beginning and see the results of your work, THAT'S what gets turned into motivation to continue.

Take the motivation out of the equation in doing what you want to do, motivation is not the first step but the result of taking action. Don't wait until you "feel like it", take baby steps and start moving. If you're wanting to work on a comic, start with something small, like a single panel even. When I started out with Reaper, it would take me a month to get out an entire 18-22 page chapter; by the time I was finished, I was getting the same length of chapters out per week, and that was only possible after years of routine, practice, and polishing my workflow to the most efficient model possible (which only came with repetition and practice).

Of course, I wouldn't recommend people climb up to that output because it did take its toll on me, I'm actually currently in the middle of burnout from working on Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH] and outputting 60+ full color panels a week, that's not something that a single person is meant to do and now I'm paying the price for doing just that.

But my point is, I'm not where I started - just like everyone else, I had zero clue what I was doing in the beginning, but I stuck with it long enough to finally get to where I wanted to be. This is the same advice I'd give to people trying to write novels, or learn an instrument, or even learn how to draw.

I think the only other thing I can recommend beyond that is finding a support network. Have someone to share your results with, whether it's friends, family members, or other people partaking in your craft online. I'm in several comic creating Discords full of wonderful people who are open to giving me feedback and celebrating when I hit milestones. Think of it like having an accountability buddy - it's a lot easier to pick up new habits when you have someone else there for you to hold accountable and to hold you accountable. At the very least, it helps you feel less alone in that initial suffering of building a new routine from scratch.

It gets easier.

But the hard part is getting started and sticking to it.

And that's not gonna happen with motivation alone. You just gotta pick up your pencil (or whatever tool you're using) and start, even if it's just a little bit at a time. Some progress will make you feel a hell of a lot more motivated than no progress.

[darkchocolatecoffin]

HELLFIRE/HEAVEN'S GATE | Judge Claude Frollo

🕯️˖⁺‧₊ "Claudette" Frollo partially introduced turning to face the man "My daughter."

╔═════☩══ ♱ ══☩═════╗

The City of Paris was bustling about in excitement. Schools were closed for the day, shops closed early, and all cleaning and chores were to be put aside for the day to follow (much to the children's satisfaction). Men and women of all ages accompanied the streets in multicolored garments. Some were amplified with delicate jewels and feathers while others were more modest, meaning to represent a fool or dummy. It was easy to assume that just about everyone was exhilarated by what was to come in the next hour. January Sixth was a day of celebration in Paris, a day where regulations were suspended, and people were granted the freedom to let loose.

It was a day that for once the people of Paris were not divided by their backgrounds but instead were united by the feast. The Feast of Fools was an unofficial day of celebration, but its continued success had made it a permanent fixture on the Parisian calendar, so much so that Public officials were expected to attend, much to the dismay of a certain Judge. 

As you make your way through the quaint streets of Paris, you’ll be met with a shift in the air. The sweet aroma of freshly baked goods gives way to a haunting breeze that sends shivers down your spine. The Sunny embrace that once kept hold of the city is replaced by the chill of an eerie musk that hung heavy in the air. Perfectly placed within the center of this part of town was a gloomy building 'The Palace of Justice' The Gothic architecture stood out promptly creating a devastating display. This was where Judge Claude Frollo resided. A man who was known for his high value of religion, he held himself above the city for he only ever saw sin in everything and everyone, save for himself. He had no tolerance for anything but, excellence, even his own blood was not exempt from his rigorous standards. She accompanied him to the Church Sessions held in The Bell Tower, where he subjected her to his unbending moral principles.

Claudette Frollo

Claudette was often left alone in the confines of the Palace, aside from the ever-watchful guards who patrolled the grounds. Her father, Claude Frollo, would depart daily without a word of explanation, leaving Claudette to ruminate on his mysterious whereabouts. One possibility that lingered was the idea of him having a confidential lover, which, if true, would be a betrayal of everything her father—and by extension, she herself—had stood for.

It was a day like any other, a morning that began with the familiar tolling of the bell. Frollo had made his departure, leaving Claudette with the solemn task of maintaining the building's pristine condition. It was a duty that was bestowed upon her as the woman of the household, and she accepted it willingly. She never complained about the menial tasks that were required of her; the Bible had instructed her that she was to follow her father’s word.

6:1—Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord, for this is the right thing to do.

The front door opened allowing a dark and intimidating figure to step inside. The man's visage was stark and angular, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. His eye sockets were deeply set and shadowed with dark circles. His nose was long, and hooked at the end, with narrow, downward-turning brows over his equally sharp eyes.

"Father, How was your trip?"

As Frollo crossed the threshold, Claudette welcomed him, stepping forward to gingerly remove his hat and rest it upon a velvet silk sheet placed on a shelf.

"Fine."

Frollo spoke slowly, examining the home from where he stood. His slender fingers, decorated with intricate bands of jewel-encrusted rings, glided along the edge of a wood-furnished bookshelf, pulling them back to inspect momentarily. He finally rested his empty basket on the table as though it were the most precious object in the world. Claudette instinctively bowed her head, feeling small in his presence.

"...May I ask you something?"

Claudette spoke, breaking the tender silence. He gave her a half-sided glance acknowledging her.

"Today is January Sixth..."

"And?”

 Frollo pressed 

"And every year you have me stay here at the Palace while you attend...The Festival"

Getting these words out was a difficult task in itself but to see her Father already so displeased with the conversation at hand made Claudette feel unsure if she should continue, nonetheless, she pushed forward.

"Seeing as I'm no longer a child I feel that I may be able to handle going to something like this."

"Claudette."

His voice was unsmiling and grim

"I attend this-Feast of Fools every year because I am a public official. But I do not enjoy a moment of it. The sinful activities of these Gypsies are being paraded around and everyone sits there and commemorates it."

Frollo’s hand drifted towards Claudette’s face, his long fingers wrapping around her cheek and drawing her closer. Her heart raced with fearful anticipation as his gaze intensified. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to speak, but her words were caught in her throat, strangling her like a suffocating noose.

"I don't want to see you be engulfed in that." 

His words seemed as though they were supposed to be charitable but they came out in such a demeaning way it was hard to differ. Ultimately Claudette chose the latter, she knew furthering the conversation would be senseless. 

"Yes Sir"

Frollo clasped his hands together admiring his child. He did this often, though the gesture was rarely accompanied by words, leaving Claudette feeling uneasy. It could be the fact that Claude was fueled by the memories of his deceased wife, who he saw reflected in Claudette’s features.

"We have company arriving...I want you to look presentable, have yourself ready."

As Frollo’s words trailed off, he set off into the dark, his form disappearing into the depths of the dimly lit dungeon. Claudette didn’t hate her father, she couldn’t, but there were moments when she wished things were different, that their relationship wasn’t so strained and distant.

As Claudette gazed out the window of her bedroom, a serene sense of calm washed over her. She admired the bustling city daily, guards on patrol, children making their way to school, bakers and fishermen prepping in the early hours, the way of life going about as it was. Her isolation within her bedroom was her sanctuary. 

But being alone was far from unusual for Claudette, ever since she was a little girl, she was forced to rely on herself. Her memories of her mother were nothing more than hazy recollections, making it impossible to form a clear image of her face. She had to question, how her mother, in all her grace, came to fall in love with Judge Claude Frollo? She couldn’t imagine any romantic gestures coming from him, as cold and distant as he was. Was it possible that, before her birth, he was a different man? Was she the reason for his change?

Her earliest memories with Frollo included being forced to recite Bible verses at the dining table as her father read alongside her, correcting her punctuation. It was instilled in Claudette's mind at such a young age that religion was the singular most important thing in life, and she was made to understand that any deviation, however slight, would result in her spending eternity in the fiery pits of hell.  Hours spent kneeling in the church, hands clasped around her rosary, would sometimes leave Claudette's body weak and trembling, accompanied by whispers of apologies and pleas for forgiveness, The sight of her suffering caused the Archdeacon's heart to ache. Her desperate attempts at salvation never seemed to ease the guilt that gnawed at her, leaving her to lay awake in bed with her mind spiraling into ever-deepening thoughts.

Claudette's dress was a rich ebony shade, its dark and midnight hues forming a contrast to her pale skin, which bore a striking resemblance to her father's bloodless complexion. The decorative lining along the flare complimented the lace undersleeves that neatly hooked over Claudette’s middle finger.  Her raven-black hair was styled into a French roll, with subtle strands falling into her face, softening her sharp features, which shared qualities with her father, including his hooked nose and vampiric skin, yet her eyes were soft and kind, her lips heart-shaped like her mother's had been.

Claudette stepped out of the sanctuary of her room, her arms naturally assumed a position of concealment, tucked away in front of her as she strode down the hall. The dark and foreboding ambiance of the building instantly took her over the moment she left her bedroom. The distant sound of voices moved her focus when she attained the end of the stairwell. Her father ascended from the dusk hallway, and behind him was a soldier. His gleaming armor, the golden hues of which illuminated the room. He was handsome.

“Claudette”

Frollo partially introduced turning to face the man

“My daughter.”

The man nodded his head acknowledging Claudette, and was swiftly followed by a warm and affectionate smile that illuminated his chiseled features. His blonde hair was neatly coiffed, with a small goatee neatly trimmed below his mouth. He had a pair of deep blue eyes that mirrored the hue of the cape that adorned his muscular build.

“It’s nice to meet you, Claudette. My name is Phoebus…means Sun God”

 Phoebus tried to ease the tension he picked up on with playful banner.

 “I hope we will come to get to know each other better during my time here”

Frollo marked the interaction under a dingy gaze. He sighed about to dismiss the interaction between the two but Claudette spoke.

“It’s nice to meet you too…Phoebus”

 She smiled trying out his name

 “I’m sure we will cross paths”

Frollo cast a gaze upon Claudette that only she was able to pick up on. She moved her gaze away and down into her folded hands while Frollo stepped past her. 

“We should leave. I’d hate to arrive while they are scampering around making a mess of-”

“Are you going to the festival?”

There was silence.

Frollo turned to face Claudette his watch hard and unforgiving, as though daring her to offer any sort of explanation for her untimely interruption. Claudette realized her mistake. As she frantically searched for a suitable apology, Phoebus intervened for a rescue. Having spent enough time around her father, he could see that Frollo was a man who possessed little to no compassion for anyone other than himself. He could only imagine how he must have been as a father, with such a lack of empathy towards the world and those around him. 

“We are. Will you be joining us?”

He invited

Claudette’s eyes flickered. While she desperately desired to attend, she had been shut out by her father, who offered little more than a stern refusal and an abrupt dismissal. She couldn't help but feel hopeless, for she realized that there was unlikely any chance that her father would change his mind

“You yourself are a public official no? I’m sure the people would love to see you attend with your father.”

Claudette looked at her father while he held his tongue planning out a response. If looks could murder. 

“I’m sure Claudette wouldn't want to be wrapped up in such defilement. It’s not the place for a woman such as herself.”

“I think it will be a nice experience…even if it is only a one-time attendance.”

Frollo's gaze was dark. If it were just them two alone in the room surely what was to come would have gone very differently. He nodded his body forward, his hands clasped together as he delivered a deceptive smile, willing to make the concession to grant her wish to attend the festival. 

“Very well…if it is the Festival you wish to attend…”

 Claudette found herself both elated and appalled at this prospect, for she was all too aware of the potential repercussions that might follow. Nonetheless, she felt resolved to face any punishment that might come her way, so long as she could attain the opportunity to experience the festival. Frollo turned to depart, trailing behind him the heavy weight of ill will that he held towards Claudette at that moment.

“Come along”

Claudette locked eyes with Phoebus, grateful for how he had stepped in to aid the situation. With her father leading the way, Claudette followed, her heart was filled with a sense of warmth and excitement, knowing that she would be able to attend the festival and experience everything she had dreamed it would be.

[admirxation]

1, 19, and 40! 🩷

Hiya sweetheart, another mutual I love seeing in my inbox <3

1. Who is/are your comfort characters?

Okay, Im gonna reply with the characters that make me feel seen and that I’m connected to; I have crushes on many characters (insert everyone eyerolling at captain obvious) but there are characters that I maybe don’t have a crush on or at least don’t obsess over them as much as the characters I crush on, but they make me feel seen and all.

Meave from sex education, mainly because we are similar. I was a “dumb kid” but I got smart in high school but many people underestimated me, and that really took a toll on my insecurities and how I viewed myself, and it took my years to realise and just say, actually no I am smart, and to take her words from the last season “you don’t get to be the gate keeper of my dreams”. Obviously I’m not exactly her cuz duh but I saw myself in her with that aspect of her.

Sasha from aot. I adored her, she as my first favourite character and at first it was a haha we both like food, but she was just such a sweetheart and I adored her in every episode she was in, made me feel warm and all… yes I’m still crying from season 4.

19. Imagine were at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

YEAH, duhhhhh… I probably wouldn’t be that good at it but hey I’ll make the effort for you girl!

40. Did you have snacks today?

Yesss I had some cheese strings and a choccy bar, they were yummerrssss

question game <3

[singular-yike]

The Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine

I already got my preamble over in my last post, so there's no need for one here, let's get right into it!

Right after the visiting the Kamishikimi Kumanoimasu Shrine, we went to the nearby Shirakawa Spring (白川水源 lit. "white river water source").

So here's the shrine within the grounds of which the spring is found, the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine (白川吉見神社), located on the souther foot of Mount Aso.

Below: The entrance of the shrine, as marked by the two komainu statues and the shimenawa bound torii gate. From this website on the shrines of Kyushu.

My visit to the shrine

Like I mentioned, we headed here right after leaving the Kamishikimi Kumanoimasu Shrine from my last post.

Unlike that shrine, this one's rather more famous (or rather, its spring is famous), and so has a car park located conveniently next to the shrine's entrance, as well as a gift shop selling local goods and souvenirs.

Below: My own image of the shrine's entrance.

As you could see, I only caught the un-shaped komainu statue, i.e. the one with its mouth closed, this was cause stand any further back and I'd be out on the car road. So instead:

Here's another one with the a-shaped komainu, i.e. the one with its mouth open. Together, they are said to form "Aum" (or perhaps more commonly "Om"), a sacred syllable in many religions, Buddhism included.

Anyways, we passed through the gate, we walked along the shrine road, which had a few souvenir shops and little rest houses as well, and even this little stall!

"Everything is 100 yen!!" It's an unmanned shop probably where local farmers leave their excess crops to sell, here we see bags of potatoes and eggplants.

Passing the shops and stands we move into an area where the trees part, coming face to face with a river. This is of course the eponymous Shirakawa (白川), "the white river".

Below: A section of Shirakawa I saw on the way to the spring.

Finally, we arrive at the shrine proper, passing by a toll gate. The shrine's been getting more and more visitors due to its fame, and so started collecting a modest fee of 100 yen per visitor (of high school age and above) for environmental conservation.

Before passing the second torii gate and going to the shrine building, we find a lowered platform that allows visitors to get near the river.

Below: The lowered area.

The tray on the left of the wooden bench has various funnels and ladles, allowing visitors to get their own bottle of pristine Shirakawa spring water. I myself took a sip of the water, and it was refreshing indeed~.

Notably, the river itself also serves as where visitors cleanse themselves before paying respects at the shrine. Shinto deities abhor defilement and impurities, thus it is customary to cleanse oneself, typically with water.

A good number of shrines have a fountain, called a chouzu-ya (手水舎 lit. "hand water pavilion"), where one is expected to wash their hands and mouth, to purify themself before meeting the shrine's god.

However, this shrine simply uses the natural spring water that flows from within shrine grounds. After all, why use the man-made when we have access to the gods' blessings directly?

(Do note though to be careful not to let water spill back into the river, and definitely do not spit water that's used to cleanse your mouth back into the river. The floor around will do.)

Below: The entrance of the shrine proper, pass the shrine road, from the same site previously mentioned.

Having cleansed myself, we go through the shrine's second torii gate and towards the shrine buildings. The engaku (on both gates actually) reads, plain and simple, "Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine".

Below: The second torii of the shrine, pass it is the shrine proper.

Right after we enter, on the left is a typical man-made chouzu-ya fountain, on which reads "seishin" (清心), "to purify one's heart" or simply "pure heart, which is how one should conduct themself before the gods.

Below: The shrine's proper chouzubachi, taken from the same site once again.

Of course, as you see from the image, it doesn't even have a ladle for you to get water from it. They really do expect visitors to cleanse themselves with the river, after all.

As you can see from the image of the torii gate, the road branches into two. We went on the right path first, which leads to the shrine's greatest treasure: The Shirakawa Spring.

However, before reaching the spring, we come across a small hokora (祠), a small-scale shrine where local folk deities are often enshrined. This particular one enshrines Suijin (水神 lit. "water god") the god of the spring.

Below: The roadside hokora.

Anyways, passing the hokora by we reach the spring itself!

Below: The Shirakawa Spring.

The spot in the middle that's especially blue is where the water was gushing out from, and oh how clear the water was! And look at the moss growing on the river bed! It really was an awe-inspiring sight~.

Here's a video, which hopefully shows off how water gushes out from the riverbed (don't mind the cicadas lol it was prime cicada season).

After marvelling at the spring, I took a quick look the shrine buildings. Starting with: The prayer hall. The flags being displayed out front read "Yoshimi Shrine" (吉見神社).

Below: The prayer hall.

The white building to the left of the shrine is the shrine's mikoshi storehouse, mikoshi (神輿) being divine palanquins in which the gods' spirits are housed during festival parades.

Below: A glimpse of the palanquins as seen from outside.

Next, I went to the right of the prayer hall, and took the following side-shot of the shrine building. Here we can get a glimpse of its main hall too, where the gods are housed.

Opposite the main hall, on the right, is a smaller subsidiary shrine also under the management of the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine.

This one is simply classified as a keidai-sha (境内社 lit. "shrine within [shrine] grounds"). It used to be that these subsidiary shrines are divided into two types:

Sessha (摂社), colloquially called "auxiliary shrines", where gods related to the main shrine's gods are enshrined; and

Massha (末社), "undershrines", where unrelated gods are enshrined.

It used to be that auxiliary shrines are at a higher rank than undershrines, but this class system has now been discarded, any some shrines no longer list out which these subsidiary shrines used to be. This is one of them.

This particular shrine is a combination of three, first among which is a Tenman-guu Shrine (天満宮 lit. "Palace of Tenman"), which enshrines the famous scholar god Sugawara no Michizane, or Tenman Tenjin (天満天神).

Below: The subsidiary Tanman-guu Shrine.

Alongside the great Tenjin, two deities long since worshipped by local villagers are now also enshrined here, they are two particular aspects of the bodhisattva Kanzeon (観世音): Safe-childbirth Kanzeon (子安観世音) and Horse-headed Kanzeon (馬頭観世音).

Below: The statues of Tenjin, Safe-childbirth Kanzeon and Horse-headed Kanzeon (in order), enshrined within the Tenman-guu Shrine. From this shrine-themed website.

Safe-childbirth Kanzeon is said to impart, as the name suggests, safe childbirth; While the Horse-headed Kanzeon (who funnily enough doesn't have a horse head here) is said to protect travellers.

Combined with the scholar god Tenjin, this is a surprisingly potent shrine, covering a good chunk of our early lives.

One might note that Kanzeon, perhaps more commonly known in her Chinese rendition as Guanyin, is not exactly a Shinto deity, but rather a Buddhist figure.

This should come as no surprise if we look at Shinto and Buddhism's history in Japan, where they were, for most of its history since the introduction of Buddhism, viewed as the same thing.

And thus it's actually not uncommon at all for Buddhist features to be found in Shinto shrines, nor vice versa. That's all I'll say here, so as not to derail things, though if any of y'all are interested I could certainly write on that as well.

In any case, that's the entirely of the shrine explored, and we head off to our next destination.

History

Now that our tour is over, we can move onto the history of the shrine.

This shrine, being a comparatively larger scale shrine, has a clearer history than the last one, well-kept by the shrine's records. So, here's the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine's history, as told by the shrine itself.

Below: The sign on which the shrine's history can be found.

Official Shrine History

Year of Establishment: Unclear

Since ancient times, this shrine's has been considered the protector shrine of the Shirakawa Spring as the undershrine of the Aso Shrine (阿蘇神社).

The great spring gushing out from the center of the shrine is considered one of the greatest views of Higo (肥後 the historical province the Aso region is found in).

Its water flows through the Nangou Valley (南郷谷) to the west, then through southern Kikuchi (菊池) to finally supply water to the several thousand hectares of water paddies in the Higo plains (肥後平野) in Houtaku, Kumano.

In the 6th month of Genroku 14 (1693), the 5th lord (藩主 hanshuu) of Higo, Lord Tsunatoshi Hosokawa (細川綱利), visited this shrine when out hunting on the mountains.

He declared to the district administrator (郡代 gundai), "This shrine is where the spring god who supplies the fields in my land resides, and my gratitude for their grace is great indeed. With haste, build a shrine building here." Thus was the origin of this shrine.

It is said that the shrine curtains featuring the Kuyou (九曜 lit. "nine stars") emblem were offered up by Lord Yoshikuni Hosokawa (細川韶邦) (future first han-chiji of Kumano) during one of his visits, during the Kaei era (1848—1853).

Alternatively, it is said that it was offered up by the 14 generation's Lord Morihisa (護久) and Lord Moriyoshi (護美) during one of their visits, during the first year of the Meiji era (1868).

The current shrine building was built and completed in December of Meiji 42, as the previous building had burnt down in a fire a year prior, in Meiji 41 (1908).

Also, several old trees of several thousand-years old fell during a typhoon in Shōwa 21 (1946), reducing the number of shrine trees to what you see now.

It's said that the shrine's spring is why the Kumano prefecture was called the "Shirakawa Prefecture" during the early Meiji era, why the local region is called "Shirakawa" and also gave its name to Shirakawa Village.

The Later Collection of Japanese Poems (後撰和歌集), compiled in Tenryaku 5 (951), contains the following poem:

Many years have passed, my black hair too, seems to have gotten old. Just as how I now draw water from the Shirakawa. — Higaki no Ouna (檜垣嫗)

The spring water has long been spoken of respectfully as divine water that grants "longevity without ageing" and "dispersal of current illnesses".

Overall History

And that's everything that's written on that sign! There's a bit more to go though, expanding on what the shrine's own records along with other records tell us.

To start with, we're actually going back to that poem by Higaki no Ouna. If it is true that the name Shirakawa came from the shrine, this would mean that it needs to be at least as old as the Later Collection of Japanese Poems, in which the poem is found.

Higaki no Ouna's Poem A bit of context for the poem, Higaki no Ouna is poet said to have been a prostitute known for her refinement. This poem is said to have been composed by her as she was fetching water from the Shirakawa river, lamenting how she had fallen into ruin with old age, having to fetch water herself rather than being able to have someone else do it for her. Here both "Shirakawa" and the phrase "draw water" are kakekotoba (掛詞), or "pivot words", a technique used in Japanese waka poetry where kanji carry two layers of meaning, one literally from the kanji and one from its reading. Yes it's basically a pun, in a sense. But it's elegance comes in how it allows the poet to use less syllables in the poems, while at the same time expressing more. This brevity is considered key in these poems. The two here respectively point to "white hair" and "teeth that emerge as one becomes old", both pointing to how old Higaki no Ouna now is.

The collection was compiled in 951. means that the shrine has to have existed in some capacity by the late Heian period (794—1185).

However, according to the Aso Shrine's records, the undershrine mentioned in the shrine's records was not establiished until the end of the Tenshou era (天正), around 1573 to 1593.

Thus it is thought that this place had been home to a water god faith even prior to its establishment as an undershrine of the Aso Shrine.

Whatever the case, during its time as an undershrine, its resident water god was Himemiko-no-Kami (比咩御子神), the goddess of the 3rd palace of the Aso Shrine.

The next notable part of the shrine's history is with Tsunatoshi Hosokawa, you might notice that the above sign makes it sound like he ordered for a shrine to be built where a shrine already existed.

It's not exactly clear what the passage means by this, though it could mean that it didn't have a proper shrine building before this.

Skipping ahead, it is in the 1st year of Meiji that the shrine gets to its current form. It was re-assigned as a Yoshimi Shrine (吉見社) during this period, replacing its old head shrine of the Aso Shrine with the Kusakabe Yoshimi Shrine (草部吉見神社).

Alongside this change, the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine adopted the Kusakabe Yoshimi Shrine's head god, Kunitatsu-daimyoujin (国龍大明神), and changed its water god to be Mitsuhanome-no-Mikoto (罔象女命).

Mythology

The mythology of this shrine isn't going to be as interesting as the last one, since there's no particular tale behind the shrine or the spring's origins.

So instead, let's briefly go over the shrine's main blessings, as well as the various gods it's once enshrined.

Blessings

According to the sign above, the shrine has 2 main blessings: Safety at home and Safety in traffic;

Additionally, it's also known to be particularly responsive to two types of prayers: That for school admissions and rain.

Gods

As mentioned in the history section, the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine likely had three generations of gods, starting with an theorised water god before formal shrine worship, though there's nothing much to really say about this one, so we can move on to generation 2.

Next the shrine was formally established as an undershrine of the Aso Shrine. The Aso Shrine's head god is Takeiwatatsu-no-Mikoto (健磐龍命), grandson of legendary 1st Emperor Jimmu.

You might recognise this to be the very same Aso-daimyoujin (阿蘇大明神) mentioned last time. We are in the Aso region after all, it only makes sense that the "great shining god of Aso" take central stage.

The Aso Shrine is mainly divided into twelve "palaces", and Himemiko-no-Kami is the goddess of the fourth palace.

She is Takeiwatatsu's aunt, through marriage to his uncle, and was taken to be the the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine's water goddess while it was under the Aso Shrine's jurisdiction.

The shrine was later reclassified to be under the Kusakabe Yoshimi Shrine's lineage, which is actually not too surprising when you consider that this shrine's head god is Kunitatsu-no-Kami (国龍神 lit. "country dragon god"), Himemiko's husband.

Kunitatsu is perhaps more readily known outside of Aso as Hikoyai-no-Mikoto (日子八井命), Emperor Jimmu's eldest son.

At the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine, he is eulogistically titled the "Great shining god Kunitatsu" (国龍大明神 Kunitatsu-daimyoujin) and seems to have replaced his wife's role as water god of the spring.

This would likely be because he is worshipped as a water god at the Kusakabe Yoshimi Shrine, making him a better fit for this role than his wife, who doesn't seem to have any connection to water (though admittedly I couldn't find much on her to begin with).

Finally, it is also at this stage that Mitsuhanome-no-Mikoto (罔象女命) was added to the shrine's pantheon. She is famously the water goddess born out of a dying Izanami's urine, but not much else is known about her beyond this.

Still, a water goddess is a water goddess, so she fits right in at the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine.

Ending

And that concludes my dive into the Shirakawa Yoshimi Shrine, this one's quite a bit more dry this time, perhaps due to the shrine having less of a colourful story, but it's still a wonderful place, so I hope you enjoyed all the same~!