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Summary: the Earl sought counsel from the seer, seeking guidance after Shoto's proposition to send him and Touya on a mission to the north. Concerned about the rumors surrounding the mission, you resolved to extract information directly from Shoto
Word count: circa 6.5k
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ACT III - SEEKING ANSWERS
The cold winds of late autumn swept through the rugged hills as earl Endeavor rode toward the dwelling of the renowned seer, Mirko. His thoughts were consumed by the intriguing proposition his youngest son, Shoto, had presented regarding a land rich in goods. The idea of sending his eldest son, Touya, to oversee this promising territory crossed the earl's mind, a strategic move that could secure his settlement's prosperity.
Upon reaching Mirko's abode, the atmosphere seemed to change. The air grew thick with an otherworldly aura, and the eerie silence made the settlement's seer even more intimidating. Mirko was a young woman with a fearsome reputation, her presence alone sending shivers down the spines of those who sought her guidance. Mirko was not beautiful in the conventional sense; her appearance held an unsettling allure. Long, wild locks framed her face, and her eyes, intense and piercing, seemed to hold secrets of both past and future. Tribal markings adorned her skin, marking her as a conduit to the spiritual realm.
Earl Endeavor, a man hardened by battles and strategic decisions, felt a twinge of uncertainty as he approached the seer.
Mirko's dwelling, draped in dark fabrics and adorned with symbols, exuded an aura of mysticism. She welcomed him with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "My lord," she spoke, her voice a haunting melody, "what brings you to seek the guidance of the unseen?"
Endeavor hesitated momentarily before speaking. "I come seeking counsel, Mirko. My youngest son has spoken of a land rich in goods. I contemplate sending my eldest, Dabi, to oversee it. What do you foresee in the tapestry of fate?"
Mirko, seated in the midst of her mystical domain, gestured for Endeavor to sit.
Endeavor unfolded his plan, explaining the potential prosperity and influence this land could bring. "I intend to send Dabi to ensure our dominance over this territory. What do your visions reveal?"
The air thickened with an unspoken power, and her haunting hums echoed through the room. The earl observed, a sense of unease settling over him as he witnessed the seer's transformation.
Her eyes closed, Mirko began to sway rhythmically, her body guided by an unseen force. The haunting melody of her hums intensified, creating an otherworldly atmosphere within the sacred space.
Endeavor found himself being on the precipice of something beyond his understanding.
Her voice carried a spectral melody, and the room seemed to pulse with an unseen heartbeat. Mirko's eyes, still closed, painted visions of impending doom with her words.
"In darkness veiled, the land awaits,
Echoes of sorrow, at destiny's gates.
A wolf, fierce, prowls in the night,
A dance with death, a sinister delight."
The seer's hands moved gracefully through the air, as if conducting an unseen symphony of fate. Her words painted vivid images of a land consumed by shadows and the imminent clash between two primal forces.
"An eagle, majestic and bold,
Descends from heights, its destiny foretold.
A battle fierce, 'neath the moonlit gleam,
In shadows cast, where spirits teem."
The eagle and wolf, symbols of opposing forces, danced in the tapestry of Mirko's vision. The room echoed with the weight of her words, each rhyme a forewarning etched in the annals of fate.
"Blood on feathers, and darkness entwined,
A struggle unfolds, destinies aligned.
In the land cursed, where choices are made,
The echo of battle, in shadows will fade."
"What does it mean?!" The earl growled loudly. "Tell me, now!"
As Mirko's body moved, a voice emerged from her lips, yet it seemed detached, as if another entity spoke through her. The words, laden with an eerie resonance, foretold a grim fate awaiting those who ventured into the land Shoto had spoken of. "The path you tread is bathed in blood, earl Endeavor. Death dances upon the horizon, and shadows darker than the night itself await those who dare to grasp the threads of destiny."
Endeavor felt a chill coursing through him. Mirko's words seemed like a macabre prophecy, a dire warning wrapped in a melody that resonated with the spirits of the unseen.
"Blood will stain the soil, and death will be the echo that reverberates through the ages. The spirits speak of a land cursed by the choices of the living," Mirko continued, her voice carrying the weight of the ethereal.
Endeavor, despite his stoic exterior, couldn't shake the disquiet settling in his chest. Mirko, in her trance, spoke as if guided by forces beyond mortal comprehension. The grim portrait she painted clashed with the earl's visions of conquest and prosperity.
As Mirko's humming reached a haunting crescendo, she opened her eyes, the once vacant gaze now piercing through the fabric of fate. The trance lifted, leaving the seer standing before Endeavor, a conduit between the living and the unseen.
"The spirits have spoken, my lord. The path ahead is shrouded in darkness, and the choices you make will echo through the very essence of time," Mirko uttered, her words lingering in the air like an unspoken decree from the spirits themselves.
Endeavor leaned forward, his expression stern. "Speak plainly, Mirko."
Mirko's voice carried a weight beyond the present. "The flames may consume not only the intended but all who stand too close. Choices shape destinies," the woman replied mysteriously.
Endeavor emerged from Mirko's dimly lit hut, the weight of her prophecy hanging in the air like a shroud of uncertainty. The pale light of the moon bathed the settlement nearby in an eerie glow as the earl took a moment to collect his thoughts.
Silence enveloped him, broken only by the distant sounds of the night. Endeavor closed his eyes, reflecting on the words Mirko had spoken. Despite the foreboding visions, a resolute determination burned within him. He knew the risks, but the allure of wealth and power beckoned him forward.
Turning to Mirko, he offered a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for your insights, Mirko. May the spirits guide us through the shadows." As a token of appreciation, Endeavor gently took Mirko's palm in his hands and pressed a grateful kiss upon it.
The seer's eyes, still veiled in the mystery of her visions, met his with a knowing gaze.
Mounting his horse, Endeavor set forth, determined to confront the future that awaited him.
The night held its breath as Endeavor rode back to the settlement, a lone figure against the canvas of the darkened landscape. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but the ember of ambition burned brightly within him, lighting the path toward the destiny he sought.
Dabi sat in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, his presence almost like a shadow against the flickering candlelight. The rhythmic sound of a whetstone against his sword filled the air, a comforting repetition that matched the beat of his troubled thoughts.
The raucous atmosphere of the tavern buzzed around him, but the glances thrown his way were not ones of admiration or desire. The courtesans, usually attentive to potential patrons, seemed to cast him disgusted looks. Even though he was the heir to the earldom, the one who would sit on the throne after his father's eventual passing, they all were disgusted by him. His status brought him no favors in this realm of longing and fleeting connections.
Dabi's eyes occasionally flickered across the room, catching those disdainful glares. He couldn't deny the sharp pang in his chest — a mix of frustration and a longing for a connection he had been denied for so long. He had grown accustomed to rejection, so much so that he had stopped actively seeking companionship. Still, the yearning for the warmth and softness of a woman's touch lingered, a desire he had learned to bury deep within.
As he took a swig of ale, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the bitterness that had settled in his heart. Dabi continued to polish his sword, the repetitive motion a way to distract himself from the disapproving looks that haunted him. In the midst of the crowded tavern, he remained a solitary figure, surrounded by people but untouched by the warmth of human connection.
The loud thud echoed through the quiet walls of the Great Hall, jolting you awake from your shallow slumber. Concern etched across your face as you rushed out of the room you shared with Hilda, following the source of the commotion. The dimly lit corridor led you to Dabi's chamber, where you found him struggling to regain his balance, a victim of the ale's intoxicating effects.
"Easy there," you said, your voice soft but laced with genuine concern. "Need a hand?"
Dabi looked up at you, his turquoise eyes momentarily clouded with confusion before recognition set in. He grunted in agreement, accepting your offered help. Together, you steadied him, and he leaned against the wall for support. The flickering light from the fireplace cast a warm glow on both of you, creating an unexpected intimacy in that late-night encounter.
"Thanks," he mumbled, his usual aloofness momentarily giving way to a hint of vulnerability. The moment was fleeting, but it lingered in the air as you helped him back into his chamber.
You assisted Touya onto his bed. The warmth of the hearth seemed to soften the edges of the usually stern and enigmatic man. However, as you turned to leave, his hand shot out, gently grasping your wrist. When you met his eyes, you were met with a vulnerability that seemed to pierce through his usual façade.
"Stay," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.
You hesitated. The rules that governed your roles in this Viking settlement were clear, and getting too close to someone of higher standing could invite trouble. Yet, the sadness in his eyes and the unspoken plea tugged at your empathy.
"I… I shouldn't," you started, but he tightened his grip ever so slightly.
"Please," he whispered, his tone a mixture of loneliness and longing.
In that moment, you found it difficult to resist. Against your better judgment, you stayed, settling on a bed beside him. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Touya's eyes never left yours.
The room was shrouded in shadows, and the warmth of the fire seemed to cocoon you and Touya in a fragile bubble of shared vulnerability.
With a hesitant yet genuine smile, Touya broke the silence. "Tell me about your homeland," he requested, his eyes showing a glimmer of curiosity.
His request hung in the air like a delicate thread, and you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh before responding. "You want to hear about the place you tore me away from? Like a flower ripped out of the life-giving soil?" Your words held a weight, a mix of resentment and sorrow.
Touya met your gaze, his expression carrying the burden of understanding the pain he had caused. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low and sincere.
In the flickering glow of the fire, you began to weave a tale of your homeland. Your words painted a vivid picture of quaint cottages with thatched roofs, their walls weathered by the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. The narrow cobblestone streets echoed with the laughter of children playing and the rhythmic sounds of craftsmen honing their skills. "Near the shore, where the cliffs stood tall and proud, we built a small chapel—a haven of solace and prayer. Its stone walls echoed with hymns, and the air was filled with the scent of incense," you recounted, your voice carrying the nostalgia of a place left behind.
As you spoke, Touya's piercing eyes remained fixed on you, absorbing every detail of this distant world he never truly understood. The contrast between the harsh Viking settlements and the idyllic Christian village seemed stark.
"The coastline, painted in hues of blue and gray, witnessed the ebb and flow of tides. Fishing boats set sail at dawn, their sails billowing in the morning breeze, while the cliffs provided a vantage point for the villagers to gaze upon the vast horizon," you continued.
Touya's features softened as he envisioned the serene landscape you described, a world far removed from the tumultuous life he had known. Touya's eyes closed, a faint smile gracing his lips as he absorbed the essence of your words. "You must have been missing the place ever since," he pointed out, the words carrying a gentle understanding of the yearning that comes with reminiscing about a home left behind.
You nodded quietly, the flames of a fireplace reflecting in your eyes. "Indeed. The memories are like whispers of a distant melody, a reminder of a life that once was. I can almost feel the salt-laden wind against my face, hear the distant hymns in the chapel. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I close my eyes and pretend I'm back there, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home."
Touya's smile faded, replaced by a somber expression, as the echoes of your quiet sobbing reached his ears. He opened his eyes, and there he found you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze fixated on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
His heart constricted with an unexpected ache. A flicker of empathy illuminated his usually guarded gaze.
"But it is all gone. All gone. You and your people took everything from me. And now I'm here, locked in a cage of a shadow of something once called life. Apparently, this was God's plan for me," your voice carried a weight of bitterness and sorrow.
His gaze softened as he watched you, the firelight casting shadows on your tear-streaked face. "Gods have their own way of weaving destinies, entangling lives in threads that stretch across time and space. Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a reason our paths crossed in this tumultuous journey."
You gave Touya a searching look, the flickering firelight dancing in your eyes, and asked, "What do you mean? Why would the God bring me here, to this… place of captivity?"
Touya looked at you with a glint of intensity in his eyes. "Our gods are different, you know. Freya, Odin, they're not like your Christian God. They're not confined to a single doctrine. They're free, just like the wind that sweeps through these icy lands. And I believe, with all my heart, that the Allfather sent me to your village for a reason, and that reason was you."
You couldn't help but snort at his words. "You're drunk, Touya. Those gods of yours aren't guiding anything. I'm here because of the whims of men, not gods."
Touya locked eyes with you, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken emotions. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer until there was barely any space between you. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "You're beautiful."
His breath sent shivers down your spine, and before you could fully comprehend his words, his lips boldly found yours. Shock coursed through you at the unexpected kiss, your first taste of such intimacy. The heavy scent of alcohol lingered on his tongue, but amidst the surprise, you felt a strange warmth. You hesitated at first, unsure of how to respond, but the gravity of the moment pulled you in.
As the kiss continued, you found yourself brushing your lips against his, a hesitant exploration of uncharted territory. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, bearing witness to a connection that transcended the roles you were assigned in this harsh world.
The following day, Endeavor summoned Dabi to his side, his face stern and determined. The air in the room felt heavy with an unspoken gravity as Dabi approached his father. "Touya," Endeavor began, his voice cutting through the silence, "I have a mission for you."
Dabi's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and apprehension. "What kind of mission?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on Endeavor.
Endeavor's eyes bore into his son's, revealing a mix of authority and expectation. "You, Shoto, and a selected group of warriors, including Hawks, will be sent to the northern part of Sweden. There's a land there with potential, rich in resources. It's time to expand our influence, and you're crucial to this endeavor."
Dabi nodded, acknowledging the weight of the task ahead. The mention of Shoto and Hawks in the same mission stirred a sense of unease, but he kept his emotions in check. "Understood," he replied, his tone resolute.
Endeavor continued to lay out the details of the mission, his plans unfolding as a complex web of politics, power, and strategy.
Little did Dabi know that this journey would lead to unforeseen challenges, testing not only his strength as a warrior but also the bonds that held his family together.
Hilda approached you with a furrowed brow, a concerned expression etched across her features. The flickering light of the torches in the chamber cast shadows that danced upon the walls as she spoke. "Y/N, I need to talk to you," she said in a hushed tone.
You looked up, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "What is it, Hilda?" you asked, your eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and apprehension.
She took a moment before responding, choosing her words carefully. "I think I just need a listening ear. Touya is going on another mission. But what worries me more is that Shoto, his younger brother, is being sent alongside him."
You furrowed your brows, recognizing the tension between the two brothers. "Isn't that a cause for concern? They don't exactly get along, do they?"
Hilda nodded solemnly. "No, they don't. The earl's decision to send them together is raising suspicions. It's a risky move, and I fear it might not bode well for the stability of the mission."
Concern etched across your face as you contemplated the potential consequences of such a decision. The dynamics between the two brothers were already strained, and sending them on a mission together seemed like a recipe for conflict. Hilda's worry mirrored your own, and the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily on both your minds.
You finished brushing your hair, the strands flowing smoothly through the comb. The flickering candlelight in your chamber created a soft ambiance, but your thoughts were far from the present moment. Hilda's words echoed in your mind, and the worry for Touya settled like a heavy stone in your chest.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to Hilda, who was quietly arranging some furs in a corner of the room. "Hilda," you began hesitantly, "is there really nothing we can do for Touya? I can't shake off this feeling of unease."
Hilda paused, her gaze meeting yours. The lines on her face spoke of years of experience and wisdom. "Y/N, sometimes the currents of fate are beyond our control. All we can do is navigate the waters as best we can. Right now, the best course is to stay vigilant and hope for the best."
You nodded, understanding the weight of her words. The unpredictable nature of the situation left you feeling powerless, and it frustrated you. "But what if something happens to him? What if Shoto…"
Hilda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We can't predict the future, dear. All we can do is be prepared for whatever comes our way. Keep an eye on the situation, and if there's an opportunity to help, we'll take it. For now, focus on your tasks and be vigilant."
You sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in her advice.
Hilda observed you with a shrewd gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. As you finished your nightly routine and settled onto the furs, she couldn't help but voice the question that lingered in her mind. "Y/N," the woman began, her voice gentle yet probing, "forgive me if I overstep, but your interactions with Touya have been minimal. Why this sudden concern for him?"
You hesitated for a moment, considering your words carefully. The truth was, your initial reservations about Dabi were not baseless, but something about Touya's vulnerability had stirred a different emotion within you. You looked at Hilda, deciding to share a part of your thoughts. "I may not like him, but I can't shake off the feeling that there's more to Touya than what meets the eye. The way he spoke about his past, about losing everything, it resonated with me. It's not pity, Hilda, but a sense of understanding, maybe empathy. And now, knowing he's going on this dangerous mission alongside Shoto, it's hard to ignore the worry."
Hilda's smirk widened as she spoke, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "Oh, my dear, I can see your cheeks flushing when you speak about him so fondly. You're having a crush, am I right?"
Hilda's smirk didn't go unnoticed, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. Her teasing words struck a nerve, and a flicker of irritation danced in your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hilda. It's just concern for a fellow human being," you retorted, your tone defensive.
Hilda chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Concern, my dear, often wears a different face. There's no shame in admitting you care for him. After all, this world is full of unexpected twists, isn't it?"
You pursed your lips, attempting to maintain composure. Deep down, you knew there was a kernel of truth in Hilda's words. The concern for Touya had indeed taken a different form, and your heart acknowledged a connection that transcended mere worry. Yet, admitting it to yourself felt like navigating uncharted waters.
Ignoring Hilda's knowing gaze, you turned away, feigning disinterest. But within, a storm of conflicting emotions raged, and you couldn't deny the impact Touya had made on your guarded heart.
As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Tossing and turning in your simple bed, a peculiar yet potentially useful idea began to form in your mind. The notion of extracting information from Shoto about his plans took root, and you found yourself contemplating the details of how to execute this risky but potentially advantageous scheme.
The flickering light of the dim chamber barely illuminated your face as you hatched a plan to subtly and strategically approach Shoto. The urgency of the situation and the looming mission compelled you to consider taking matters into your own hands, even if it meant navigating the treacherous waters of deceit. With a determined resolve, you prepared yourself mentally for the intricate dance of conversation that lay ahead.
In your best dress, adorned with the finest that could be salvaged among the thralls, you made your way to the tavern after learning from Natsuo that Shoto was seen going out with a warrior named Hawks. As you stepped out, the cool breeze of the late afternoon caressed your face, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.
Arriving at the tavern, you could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking mugs seeping through the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, you pushed it open, revealing the warm, dimly lit interior. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the low hum of conversations. You scanned the room, finally spotting Shoto and Hawks in a corner, engaged in a conversation.
Shoto's two-colored hair caught the wavering light as he raised his tankard in a toast. "To power and the thrill of the hunt," he declared with a smirk, taking a long swig.
Hawks leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes.
The duo seemed engrossed in conversation, their laughter mingling with the low hum of the tavern. Female thralls, drawn by their presence, attempted to engage in conversation, but the exchanges were marked by a darkness that hinted at their underlying intentions. Shoto and Hawks were having fun in the company of two thralls with exotic features that hinted at a southern origin. The air was charged with an unmistakable tension as the men engaged in flirtatious banter.
One of the thralls, feigning coyness, asked, "What brings you to our humble company tonight?"
Shoto, with a sly grin, leaned in to the thrall seated by his side, and said, "Oh, just the usual – seeking a bit of warmth in this frigid place. Perhaps you ladies could provide some, hmmm?" He mused, running his hand up and down the girl's shoulder.
The other thrall, playing along, responded, "Warmth, you say? Well, you might need to work hard to earn that from us."
Shoto frowned a little, yet his voice stayed low and smooth, "You seem to be unaware of my position, woman. I am the heir to earl Endeavor, and I demand that you address me with the respect befitting my status," he forcefully grabbed the other woman by her shoulder, causing her to tumble off her chair and land on the floor next to him. "So, I suggest you watch your manners, for I am the best you can find in this establishment. Consider your words carefully before opening that foolish mouth of yours next time."
Hawks nodded in agreement, "Indeed, the gentleman here is right. Shoto, don't scare the lady."
The conversations continued in this bold and wry manner, each word dripping with innuendo as the men skillfully navigated the delicate dance of desire. The atmosphere in the tavern buzzed with anticipation as the thralls played their part in the seductive exchange, the one that previously ended on the floor now sat quietly, letting Hawks wrap his strong arms around her shoulders as his hand was playing with her breasts from time to time.
Summoning your courage, you approached them, the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. As you drew nearer, you caught Shoto's eye, and a subtle smirk crept onto his face. Hawks, on the other hand, eyed you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The atmosphere shifted as you prepared to enter a world of alliances and secrets, uncertain of what the outcome might be.
"Well, well, what brings you to this den of sin all alone? Where's your precious Touya? Couldn't keep up with his demands?" the youngest Endeavorson taunted, his tone laced with amusement.
You brushed off his wry remark. "I think it's time for us to bury the hatchet. Our relationship didn't start on the best note, and I believe we can find a way to coexist peacefully."
He looked at you, seemingly surprised by your suggestion. Shoto considered your words, and after a moment, he offered you a seat with them.
Throughout the interaction, Hawks observed the scene. You gave him a brief smile, trying to maintain a cool demeanor in the company of the two men.
Shoto turned to you with an air of faux politeness, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I believe we can have a civilized conversation, don't you?" His eyes darted towards the thrall who had been seated beside him, and with a dismissive gesture, he uttered, "You, leave us."
The thrall shot you a cold glance before complying with Shoto's request and vacating the space.
Now alone, Shoto leaned back in his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "There, much better. Now, let's chat, shall we?"
You took a deep breath before speaking, "I must admit, despite the fear you instill within me, there's a certain charisma about you. It's hard not to notice."
Shoto's grin widened, appreciating the acknowledgment. "Well, I appreciate your honesty. And by the way, I quite like your accent. It adds a certain charm." His compliment was laced with a hint of mischief as he reached his hand out to briefly rub your shoulder.
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Shoto's hand landed on your shoulder. Suppressing a wince, you decided to play along with his casual demeanor. When he asked about the real reason for your visit, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well, I just wanted to get to know you a little better, my lord."
Shoto raised an eyebrow, considering your words. "Interesting choice of words. Here, have some mead." He poured some into a wooden mug and handed it to you, a sly smile playing on his lips.
You accepted, trying to keep your nerves at bay.
Hawks, with a twinkle in his golden eyes, couldn't help but comment, "Quite a beauty you have here, Shoto. Earl Endeavor's thralls are indeed a treasure."
Shoto, taking a sip of his mead, glanced at you and replied wryly, "All Christian women have this softness within them. I just happen to enjoy breaking it." His words were delivered with a certain darkness that sent a chill down your spine.
Trying to maintain composure, you played along, responding with a forced smile, as you looked at Shoto's companion, "Well, thank you for the compliment, sir."
As Shoto continued to drink, you couldn't shake off the unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.
As more mugs of mead were emptied by the men and the atmosphere in the tavern grew warmer, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been gnawing at your thoughts. Leaning in, you addressed Shoto, "Forgive me for intruding, but I overheard that you and Touya are going on a mission. Is it true?"
Shoto's eyes, a mix of icy determination and something unreadable, met yours. He took a moment, swirling the remnants of his mead in his mug before responding, "Yes, a mission to the north. Father believes it's a land rich in resources, and he wants us to secure it for the settlement."
Hawks, who had been listening attentively, chimed in, "Aye, a mission of great importance. The north can be treacherous, though. Many dangers await those who venture into the unknown."
You nodded, though a lingering concern for Touya flickered in your eyes. "What kind of dangers are you talking about? Is it just the harsh conditions of the north, or is there something else we should be aware of?"
Shoto's stoic expression betrayed little, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of the mission and what it might mean for both brothers.
Hawks took a sip from his mead, his golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and wariness. "The north is a wild place, full of untamed landscapes and creatures. Wolves, bears, and more roam freely. Not to mention, the weather can be brutal, especially this time of year."
Shoto's gaze never wavered as he observed your reaction to Hawks' nonchalant explanation.
You sensed there might be more to the story, but both men remained guarded in their responses.
Shoto's sudden shift in demeanor caught you off guard, his hand landing on your knee with an unexpected boldness. He began to rub your knee casually, his gaze steady as he threw a question your way. "Let's change the topic, my dear. The ruggedness of our upcoming mission might be a bit too much for a delicate female mind like yours to comprehend," he remarked, his fingers tracing small circles on your knee, playing with the hems of your dress. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in, his tone low and almost conspiratorial. "Tell me, has my older brother had his way with you yet?"
You felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance at his audacity, but you tried to maintain composure. "That's none of your business, Shoto," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And the mission—"
"Oh, don't play coy," he interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'm genuinely curious. After all, I'd hate for you to miss out on experiencing the full range of pleasures in our little settlement."
The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself navigating the conversation with a mix of caution and defiance, unsure of where Shoto was leading with his intrusive inquiries.
You met Shoto's audacious question with a bold response. "No, my lord, I haven't been with anyone, ever," you asserted, trying to maintain a sense of control in the conversation.
Hawks chimed in with a cryptic comment, "Well, isn't that a rare treasure in these parts. A thrall with untouched cunny, how intriguing."
You shot a wary glance at Hawks, uncertain about the implications of his words.
Shoto, however, seemed more amused than surprised, his smirk widening as if he had expected such a revelation. "You're missing out on experiences, thrall. I could show you what it's like. I doubt my older brother knows how to please a woman. Look at him, covered in scars, a truly disgusting sight. No normal woman would willingly lie with such a damaged man."
You felt Shoto's hand sliding beneath the fabric of your dress, making your breath catch in your throat. His audacious suggestion hung in the air, and the atmosphere became charged with tension.
You pulled away, a mix of surprise and discomfort evident on your face. "Maybe… Nut I didn't have enough mead yet, my lord," you asserted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation.
Shoto, undeterred, leaned in with a sly grin. "Afraid of a little adventure? I promise you, it'll be an experience you won't forget," he whispered, his mismatched eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.
As Shoto poured another mug of mead for you, you discreetly took small sips, ensuring that the majority of the liquid found its way into Hawks' cup while the two men were engrossed in conversation. The effects of the mead were beginning to show on Shoto, but you remained clear-headed.
The conversation in the tavern continued, filled with laughter and raucous chatter. You observed Shoto's growing inebriation and wondered if this was the opportune moment to extract information about the mission.
As Shoto, in a visibly inebriated state, decided to make his way back to the Great Hall, Hawks was more than willing to accompany him. However, seizing the opportunity to gather more information, you stepped forward and offered to walk Shoto back on his behalf. Hawks, busy with the two other thralls he managed to lure, readily agreed.
With Shoto leaning on you for support, you began the journey back to the Great Hall. The night air was crisp, and the sound of distant revelry echoed through the settlement. As you walked, you subtly steered the conversation toward the mission, aiming to extract any valuable details Shoto might unwittingly reveal in his inebriated state. As Shoto stumbled beside you, you ventured to ask, "Shoto, why do you harbor such resentment toward Touya? It seems like there's a lot of tension between you two."
Shoto's response was punctuated by occasional hiccups, and he spoke with a slurred cadence, "Touya… he's always been the favorite. Father sees him as the rightful heir, even after he attempted on killing him… When he was a baby… I'm just… the spare. I've had to fight for every scrap of approval, every shred of acknowledgment. It's fucking infuriating."
His words were tinged with a mix of bitterness and vulnerability, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of their strained relationship.
Shoto's alcohol-laden breath hung in the night air as he delved deeper into the caverns of his animosity. His words spilled out, laced with venom and a fervent desire for retribution. "You see, Y/N… Touya has always been the golden child… Father dotes on him, oblivious to the struggles I faced. I fought tooth and nail, but in his eyes, I'm still the disappointment." His voice resonated with a toxic blend of envy and resentment. "I wish he'd disappear, fade away… It would be so much easier without him overshadowing me at every turn… Fucking Touya. Father might finally see my worth."
As he spoke, you couldn't help but sense the profound wounds that fueled Shoto's disdain for his older brother, wondering if there was any way to mend the frayed bonds between them.
With a heavy sigh, you opened the huge, wooden door to the Great Hall. In the dimly lit hallway, you guided Shoto with careful steps, avoiding any unnecessary noise. As you reached his chamber, the weight of your question hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "My lord… Do you plan to harm your older brother during this mission?"
He paused, his drunken demeanor momentarily overshadowed by a serious glint in his eyes. "Hurt him? No. But if fate has other plans for him, who am I to intervene?"
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if Shoto's words held any truth or if they were merely intoxicated ramblings. As you opened the door and let go of his waist, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that there was more beneath the surface of his seemingly casual response. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, adding an enigmatic air to the entire exchange.
The sudden force of Shoto's grip on your waist surprised you, and before you could react, his lips collided with yours in a messy, drunken kiss. The taste of mead lingered on his breath, making the encounter less pleasant than you might have imagined. You winced, feeling a mix of discomfort and confusion as the moment unfolded.
Shoto's hand slipped beneath your dress and moved up your leg, resting between your thighs. As he pulled away, his eyes were glazed, and he chuckled under his breath, resting his back against the wooden wall. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," he slurred, releasing his hold on you and stumbling into his chamber. "I'll make sure you're mine, not his." The door closed behind him, leaving you standing in the hallway, processing the unexpected exchange with your palm pressed against your mouth.
As you turned around, your heart sank, its rhythm momentarily disrupted - there, in the corridor, stood Touya. His expression held a mixture of surprise and shock as he observed you, and an unspoken tension hung in the air.
Touya's harsh words hung in the air, stinging like a bitter truth. "I can't believe you're like that, Y/N, letting my brother touch you this way. I thought you were different, not like every other thrall, but I guess I was wrong."
A lump formed in your throat as you desperately wanted to explain, to make him understand, but before you could utter a single word, Touya turned on his heel and left, the resounding crash of the door slamming shut echoing through the dimly lit corridor.
Now, you found yourself standing alone, the weight of his accusations settling in. The corridor seemed colder, lonelier in the aftermath of his anger. You replayed the scene in your mind, the hurt etched on Touya's face, the disappointment in his voice. It was a bitter cocktail of emotions that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
The truth was, you never intended to betray or hurt Touya. You considered chasing after him, explaining that it wasn't as it seemed, that your intentions were never to betray him. But the finality of that slamming door weighed heavily on your shoulders.
A lone tear traced the contours of your cheek, a delicate testament to the waning emotions within. It was as if you had relinquished something profoundly vital, a precious fragment of your life slipping away, leaving behind a poignant void.
I just saw a Tik Tok that said writers on AO3 are not looking for constructive criticism in their reviews. I have no audience on this platform so I have to know if this is true? I've always left my pros and cons when reading a fic and now I'm concerned that the authors didn't like that.
Yeah writers are Not looking for criticism, constructive or otherwise. Unless they specifically ask for it, it’s considered rude and honestly a bit hurtful. In the least bitchy way possible, don’t do that. It’s unwanted.
In case there's anyone still on the fence about this: please keep in mind that if you really want to leave constructive criticism, the time to do it is when the story is under construction. Which pretty much limits this category of feedback to beta-readers and other writing buddy types, not the general audience.
Very, very, very few times is an author interested in pulling down and reconstructing their story once it's up. If you are leaving your criticism after the story is finished and published, it is too late. Now it's destructive criticism.
via mikkeneko: #types of corrective comments that I an author would be willing to receive:
#'hey I think maybe this is the wrong chapter? this is a repeat of last time?'
#'hey the formatting got stripped out of your document and it looks weird'
#'hey it looks like part of your story got copy-pasted wrong - one paragraph was repeated twice and another line cuts off mid-word''
#'hey you spelled a character's name wrong in this very easy mistake to make so you may want to go back and fix that'#(but you'd better be Very Very Sure that your spelling is the right one if you're going to do that)
#potentially: 'hey you used a very offensive word and from context it seems like you don't understand what it means so here's a heads up'#(but once again you had better be Really Really Sure before you do that)
#anything else? anything you object to about the characterization or plot or pairing or style?#i am Not Interested#just hit the back button and we'll part ways in peace
I would also add: "hey, you're missing this tag that definitely applies to your fic and would be helpful in warning people about it"
What about scientifically incorrect /wrong facts set in media in the real world? Yes I know we don't all remember X grade science. It's basic science, nothing advanced. It's incorrect and able to be read by anyone. As another human being, I believe the author has the right to know they're scientifically, realistically, incorrect.
unless the author is encouraging the readers to do something dangerous to themselves or others ("mix bleach in all your cleaning products kids! it's safe and effective!") then no. fanfic authors don't have an obligation to be educational resources either
And it's entirely possible the author is aware it's inaccurate and decided to use it anyway. (Ref: the Martian's initial dust storm; IRL there isn't enough atmospheric pressure on Mars to knock down the HAB, but the rest of the plot, which is painstakingly scientifically accurate, wouldn't have happened otherwise.)
And if you're wondering why fic authors don't like constructive criticism unless they've asked for it beforehand: reading fanfic is like eating a dish at a potluck. Somebody made something as a gift to the community to share. You don't have to eat whatever they brought! Nobody goes to a potluck and eats absolutely everything. You eat the things you like and pass by the rest. What you don't do, is go up to people and tell them what they should have cooked instead or what is wrong with their dish. Unless, of course, they have specifically asked your opinion.
In the same way, if there is something you don't like about a fic, don't say anything unless the author has asked for it.
Also, if you are going to bring up any of the above, please for the love of the universe, be polite about it. And don't throw a hissy fit if the author says "no, thanks" to your suggestion--especially for tag suggestions. I've seen some very demanding comments regarding tags, and they are super obnoxious and incredibly rude. If your post sounds like it could have been written by Veruca Salt (the most famous spoiled brat I can think of), then you shouldn't post it.
If you really despise the way an author tags things, mute them so you don't have to see their works.
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“I’m a therapist and keep this poster in my waiting room, apparently it’s saved a few lives.”
I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide. I have a plan: I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.
I think your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.
But still here you are: you’ve come over to me, banged on my door and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”
How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines. Your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.
And you’re still just going, “GIVE ME A STICK. I’M NOT DYING OUT HERE.”
“A cry for help” makes it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you, but you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.
With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.
Every time I see this post I stop to read the whole image. It always helps — even on the good days.
Because it wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t shameful to seek help. It wasn’t pathetic to “cry for help”. I was looking for a stick, be that from myself or from someone else. I was trying to find a way out. I was trying to heal myself.
But you’re not lazy. Lazy is when you shrug things off because you can’t summon up the give-a-damn. When you’re curled up tight in your chair at your desk, alone and grey and desperately wishing that you had your life in order, that you did all those things you had to do, that it didn’t feel like breaking rocks just to feed and clothe yourself and get some sleep, that’s not lazy.
People don’t understand. You tell them “It’s hard.” They tell you “No it isn’t, you’re just lazy.”
You start to wonder if they’re right.
is breaking those rocks easy for everyone else? Are they that much stronger than you?
They don’t look like they’re struggling.
“Just try harder,” they say. But you’re trying. It’s not working.
Breaking boulders in your path until you’re spent isn’t lazy. And you do it day after day after day.
You’re not lazy. Most people don’t have those rocks to break. They don’t even know what it’s like to have to break rocks to get things done. They don’t understand how hard you have to work, and how hopeless you can feel, when you try and fail to do what they do so easily. Things are harder for you. They really are. And if those people had to deal with your problems, they wouldn’t be doing any better.
You’re not lazy. You’re not weak. You’re fighting hard.
I guess I just want you to know that I know that.
how does language work in plasticity? they understand each other, but is it because of magic fantasy built in translation or are they actually speaking the same language? i know tori says common phrases and idioms that they don't recognise but seeing as things like that vary wildly region by region even in the same country, it's plausable that they are really speaking a universal language. if tori consciously spoke a different language, would they be able to understand her? if she came out with a lil kpop as a treat, or nice little insulting rant in russian, would it sound like just noise to them?
Okay, I’m on mobile so apologies if this posts with no spaces between paragraphs or bizarre typos or... just posts twice for some reason, because THAT happens sometimes.
I actually scraped a lot of worldbuilding regarding language in Plasticity! Mostly I decided it makes less sense to provide a rationalization for why they understand each other than just not addressing it LMAO. If you need an explanation— “idk divine intervention?” They all perceive each other as speaking the same language. However!! I did want to emphasize how foreign and weird Tori is even though there’s no language barrier. Notice she doesn’t use Japanese suffixes unless she’s consciously mimicking someone, because she has no real sense of cultural formality when speaking. Some of the idioms she uses just don’t make sense in Naruto land. I do want to toss in some “ninja uses common idiom, Tori has no idea what he’s saying.” She doesn’t get most pop culture references and she’s never heard of the Narutoland version of the Beetles. It makes her sound both from nowhere (because there’s no clear regional accent/word choice) and from anywhere (because.... same). “IDK, she’s weird.”
I’m actually debating the “what if a THIRD language?” question for the upcoming chapter. I do think “...are you speaking in TONGUES?” would be a funny response to, idk, a demonstration of the Macarena. But also I’m in the fence about if I want to even bring up the question of language. But I’ll say: yes, it DOES sound like nonsense lol.
My personal collection of Harry Potter fic recs. I'm only including finished fics in this list, although some fics may be part of an unfinished series. More will be added as I think of them.
Crack Fics
Harry Potter and the Scrambled Sorting
Harry Potter except nothing is serious and a bored Sorting Hat Decides to get creative. Slytherin!Harry and Hermione.
The Odd Couple, But With Attempted Murder
A series of one-shots where the most incompetent version of Tom Riddle ever conceived attempts to murder the most competent version of Harry Potter ever conceived.
Dear Order
Harry is bored in Privet Drive during the summer after The Goblet of Fire and makes it everyone else's problem.
Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter
Paranoia and Puns
Pure fluff in which Harry decides his crush on Cedric Diggory is, in fact, a danger to his health (he's not wrong) and Cedric uses puns as a personality trait.
I'll Just Begin Again
In a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Cedric Diggory discovers a device that just might allow him to recover what has been lost.
Tom Riddle/Harry Potter
The Love of a Good Wizard
An easy-to-swallow, pleasant Tomarry time travel fic that you can read over the holidays by the fireplace while sipping a warm drink of your choice from a mug. Pansy is Harry's time travel companion for some reason. Side Pansy/Minerva McGonagall.
Little Bits
Dark Cinderella AU where Harry slowly learns that all three of his step-brothers have an unhealthy fixation on him. One-sided Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter and Theodore Nott/Harry Potter.
99 Crickets
Fluff and humor. Harry tries to scare off a suitor and it backfires.
George Weasley/Harry Potter
I'm shocked I had enough of this pairing to make it its own category as you are, but here we are.
Two out of Three
In an instance of more tasteful Ginny Bashing than usual, Harry discovers that he has been under the influence of a love potion for years and also that George is, apparently, a Grade A hottie.
Maybe
George is too awkward to kick Harry out of the burrow when Ginny asks him to, so he asks Harry to rent a flat with him instead.
Teddy Lupin/Albus Severus Potter
Again, I'm as shocked as you are, but I've had some weird phases.
The Path of Least Resistance
Teddy is floundering in the aftermath of James's overdose. Al is searching for his own closure. Past one-sided Teddy/James Sirius.
Closed Door, Open Window
James's engagement forces Teddy to accept that his crush will never be requited, and receives support from an unexpected source.
(We're Just) Different Colours
Teddy and Albus both discover that the other has a crush on someone they really, really shouldn't.
Fics that Dealt Emotional Damage
Antithesis
Twin Potters, Wrong-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry is Adopted by Voldemort, Slytherin Harry, all rolled into a gut punch to your emotional wellness. Warnings for, well, a lot. Beautifully written.
A Winter Amid the Ice
A next-gen Harry Potter fic where everybody needs therapy and some need to be arrested. Warning for an adult/minor relationship, although it is not romanticized. Albus Severus/Scorpius, *Albus Severus/Louis Weasley*(Trigger Warning).
Female Harry Potter
Future's Past
Female Harry Potter with time travel and spicy Orion Black, or, Ianthe Potter does a ritual to undo Sirius's death and ends up becoming his stepmom. Very Pride and Prejudice-esque. Orion Black/Fem!Harry Potter.
Finding Mr. Right
Now in her mid twenties, Hydrangea 'Heidi' Potter decides she would like to settle down. Ginny, Hermione and Lily take this as permission to set her up on an endless and often disastrous string of blind dates, all at the same restaurant owned by one Theodore Nott. Theodore Nott/Fem!Harry Potter.
Harry Potter/Miscellaneous
Leo Inter Serpentes (Drarry)
A Slytherin!Harry rewrite of the Harry Potter series. Just know that this is probably the only Drarry or Severitus fic rec you will get from me.
Time Turned Back (Harry/Sirius)
Fresh off Sirius's death, Harry is sent accidentally sent back in time and meets the Marauders and his mother in Hogwarts. Side Remus/Hermione.
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Ring of the Mist - Construction -One that cannot be captured (98%)
Ring of the Rain - Tranquility - One that washes away everything (84%)
Ring of the Sun - Activation - One that illuminates the sky (45%)
Ring of the Sky - Harmony - One that colours and engulfs everything (39%)
Ring of the Storm - Degeneration - One that fiercely blows away everything (20%)
Ring of Thunder - Hardening - One that harshly strikes everything (0%)
Ring of the Sky - Harmony - One that colours and engulfs everything (100%)
I keep getting Sky most often so I’m claiming that for my primary flames, what about y’all?
Ring of the Mist - Construction -One that cannot be captured (82%)
Ring of the Cloud - Propagation - One that cannot be caught and goes its own way (76%)
Ring of the Storm - Degeneration - One that fiercely blows away everything (68%)
Ring of the Rain - Tranquility - One that washes away everything (36%)
Ring of the Sun - Activation - One that illuminates the sky (12%)
Ring of Thunder - Hardening - One that harshly strikes everything (0%)
Could you do headcannons for kakashi and Shisui with a short s/o
Honey. As a short person, I have been waiting for this request.
KAKASHI
Kakashi himself is fairly tall, he would definitely grab things that are too high for his s/o to reach. He might even purposefully put things higher than they should just to watch s/o suffer.
He would do small bell test simulations by just waving the bells over his head. It’s fun to watch his s/o desperately jump.
He’ll tell s/o to stop, but s/o knows he secretly loves it when they jump on him for a kiss.
It’s a lucky thing for him that s/o is short because they can’t see the contents of his icha icha book. He just strolls about the streets reading, while s/o tries to basically climb his body just to get a peak or just get his attention.
When s/o is demanding something of Kakashi and he’s too lazy/not in the mood he’ll pretend like he can’t see them. “Ahhh where did y/n-chan go? Not here? Okay, I’ll just leave then.”
Kakashi loves cuddling with his short s/o because his whole body basically covers them. They fit so snugly right into him and it feels just right.
SHISUI
I think that Shisui has a weak spot for anything or feature that is cute. Small things tend to be cute. Short s/o will definitely have a direct pathway to his heartstrings.
He sometimes gets too excited on dates and forgets that his legs are longer than his s/o’s. He’ll give an apology massage later~
If s/o is a bit self conscious and asks why Shisui doesn’t just go for one of the pretty girls in his clan, he’ll already have a list ready and “short and cute” is on the list multiple times.
Shisui may sometimes forget how old and/or capable s/o really is and baby them a lot. For example, s/o will get a bearable injury and Shisui will go into freak out/balling mode. “My little y/n’s hurt!!!!! Did it hurt when it happened? I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there! This is all my fault! It’s okay, I’m here now. You won’t have to suffer alone!”
That being said, this only happens when Shisui’s not on the mission or at least after the mission. When together on the battlefield or just on duty, Shisui will give s/o the respect that they rightfully deserve.
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in seeing these Days to Go slides floating around, i noticed that some of them seem to have taken some significant liberties with the translations, so i thought i’d share my findings.
the Japanese in this slide reads: 必要なのは ぶつかりい合う光と闇の心 魂は必要ない
the English is close, but leaves out a few details. firstly, the choice of the word 必要 [hitsuyou] is interesting, to me. “need” is a gross understatement for the real meaning of this word; hitsuyou indicates something much stronger than just a need. if something is hitsuyou, it is something that cannot be lived without, more or less–an extremely crucial part of life, of a plan, of whatever it is in referral to. the more everyday word for need is 要る [iru]. the use of hitsuyou is much stronger, indicating that the topic of the sentence is indispensable.
likewise, there’s a lot more there than simply, “his heart”. the phrase ぶつかりい合う光と闇の心 [butsukariau hikari to yami no kokoro] translates to, “a heart in which light and darkness collide”.
this tells us that the linchpin to their plan is a heart fraught with both light and dark, and that the soul is not necessary. and the repetition of the very strong word hitsuyou for the negative almost makes it seem like the soul is not only unnecessary, but utterly useless.
this… makes me worry very much for Roxas. 8′)
the Japanese here reads やっぱり3人で一人前がいいね. the English is actually cuter and more in line with the overall mood of this trio. the Japanese is just more straightforward, “three heads are better than one, after all.”
this one goes, 僕ら3人でゼアノートを この世界から引き離そう. of note here is the word choice for the ‘push Xehanort out of this world’ bit. the verb is 引き離そう [hikihanasou], and it’s a compound verb. if you break it apart, the individual pieces are [to pull] and [to separate]. so it’s not just pushing Xehanort out of the world, it’s… like viscerally ripping him out of it, physically separating him from it. Mickey’s not taking Xehanort’s shit anymore.
for this one, the English actually adds a lot of flourish. the Japanese is, again, very simple and straightforward: この世界はもうダメだ 失敗したのだ. essentially, This world is done for; you’ve failed. morbidly eloquent Xehanort is much more fun, for this one.
this one was really interesting in how vague it is. 姿は消えていない 心もまだ 離れていない 守んだみんなを the topic of the sentence–the ‘them’ Riku is referring to, simply isn’t specified. now, that’s not uncommon in Japanese, you can drop the actual pronouns almost always, but the whole sentence is vague. the choice of 姿 [sugata] is interesting, because it refers to the shape, the silhouette, the figure, but it’s a very distancing sort of word. and we see the ‘pull apart’ verb here again, as well. the ‘lost’ verb isn’t so cut and dry, ether. 消える is a bit more sinister than that, it’s more like vanish or disappear. the same kanji is used in another verb, which literally means to erase.
so Riku’s actually saying something more along the lines of, “their bodies haven’t disappeared, they haven’t been separated from their hearts.” i figured this was meant to allude to Xehanort’s penchant for turning various villains into Heartless, but that pretty much clinches it: this isn’t just an arbitrary “loss” when someone is consumed by Darkness, this is something being done deliberately.
this is the one that really made me want to look more closely at the rest of them. the English here feels so forceful, but the Japanese is actually very gentle. リアじゃなくてアクセルでいい 記憶したか? he isn’t telling her to call him Axel, he’s essentially telling her it’s okay if she messes up or forgets his new name, ‘just Axel is fine’. ;A; LET 👏 MY 👏 SON 👏 BE 👏 SOFT 👏
i’ll do another batch of these when the rest of them have all come out, if anyone wants. /vibrates into the sun
