#monster food is made different w different textures

[pacifideundertaleau]

PACIFIDE CHARACTER PROFILES

CHLOE:

One of the three protagonists on PACIFIDE.

Name: Chloe Age: 16 (Birthday; April 14th) Pronouns: She/Her Soul Trait: EMPATHY

ATK: Flimsy Slingshot DEF: Friendship Bracelet (it's hidden under her right sleeve)

Before Chloe fell into the UNDERGROUND, she was bullied in school simply because she's Autistic. The students would call her names, insult her, or just DISLIKE her because she was different than amongst them. Which made Chloe feel rather alienated and like an outcast.

That was when she met Frisk who spoke in ASL since they were born w/o a voice box. When they both met for the first time Chloe was very shy and hesitant to share her interests with Frisk since she was afraid they would make fun of her too. But Frisk was actually interested the journal Chloe was reading and Chloe showed them the journal she found about the MONSTERS.

What is the journal about you may ask?

The journal Chloe carries everywhere with her was originally her biological mother's. She went missing overnight so she left a journal for Chloe to have. Ever since then Chloe has been fascinated with monsters and their magic, even though she's distraught of her mother suddenly disappearing.

What's with the giraffe?

It's actually a comfort stuffie for Chloe. She had it since she was younger. When Chloe would feel triggered or overstimulated, she would stroke the stuffie as a way for her to calm down. It has a soft texture she really likes, hence why she also carries that everywhere.

Additional Information:

Chloe understands ASL, sometimes doing it herself when she’s non verbal.

Chloe has a habit of rambling on to the point the person would get bored of Chloe’s tangent about the Monsters

Chloe has a stuffed giraffe that she carries everywhere. Even in the underground.

Her safe food is cinnamon rolls :) 

When Chloe gets excited of a certain topic, she stims; jumping and clapping her hands.

BACK TO CHARACTER PROFILES

[end-of-reset]

oh wow its rlly cool that u r representing ppl with ARFID!! i guess it just suprised me pleasantly cause i have it and this is the first time ive ever seen it represented in media!!! :O also keep up the great work with the comic ^_^

Oh wow it's weird thinking of my comic as a part of media... But yeah! I actually have symptoms myself, but they tend to come and go without any rhyme or reason so I just got slapped with an EDNOS diagnosis. Still, it's been a relevant part of my life and the life of many people with sensory issues, so I'm glad to hear it's making people happy to see it shown. I'm excited to share more about how it's affected Frisk, and it's gonna be explicit in about four updates from now (so a week from Friday, hopefully) because, unfortunately, most human food is a Bad Food for Frisk

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

today i astral project giant, curious merboy w/ frightened researcher into your mind. tomorrow? who knows

Tomorrow is when you get your request filled you babey boi

--

“E-easy now, l-let’s ju-woah! Hey!”

It was too late for Stella’s squirming to do her any good as long, clammy fingers tightened themselves around her already battered body to lift her much higher than she would have appreciated. She couldn’t help a small wince when she felt her arms be uncomfortably squeezed against her ribs, the left side of which was undoubtably bruised from her topple earlier. The grip only pressed more at her pathetic struggles, forcing out her exhale much rougher than intended.

“Pl-lease,” she gasped, practically immobile in the creature’s hold which seemed to be the desired affect, “y-you’re hur-hurting me...!”

And just like that, the pressure that had once been constricting her disappeared. Even more wonderfully, solid ground seemed to return under her shaky legs which she was grateful to collapse. Or so she thought. A couple inhales sucked in to clear the splotches that pulsed in the corner of her vision revealed she had merely been traded from one hand to the other, trapped high above in an open palm as opposed to a clenched fist. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she supposed.

Or fish, she supposed again.

With a shaky sigh, Stella forced her eyes up (and up and up) until they met with  wide ones, blinking down at its tiny capture. She couldn’t keep up the staring contest very long, however, not with how unnerving those black scleras were. Instead, she found her gaze shifting towards its mouth that could certainly fit her inside in one bite, perhaps even a rowboat if it tried. At that moment, it chirped at her, something loud and grating and immediately making her cover her ears for protection, but not without getting a glimpse of those jagged fangs.

From a scientific standpoint, this was one of the most stunning discoveries in her career, hell, in anyone’s career in the history of marine biology. A genuine mermaid...er, man, if she were to assume based purely on physical observation. A dozen questions ran through her mind focused on understand how on earth each component of his body functioned. Respiratory, circulatory, vision, hearing, homeostasis, smell, bone structure and density, muscle to fat ratio, everything and more!

Unfortunately, she doubted those inquiries would be answered anytime soon, if ever. 

The monster chittered again much more quietly, practically a rumble in his throat as his other hand hovered closer. Try as she might to flinch away, there was really no where else to go besides down into the icy waters below. She watched the thick claws adorning each finger inch closer, bracing for the sensation of being flayed like some sort of sick vengeance for all his seafood brethren she had ever eaten. Actually, given his size and muscular build alone, there was no way this thing was a vegetarian, so there better not be any judgement on that front!

Surprisingly enough, the claws just missed nicking any part of her skin in favor for the pad of his finger to rub against the top of her head, slowly, hesitantly even. Stella grimaced at the action but let it be, holding still as best her trembling form was able to while his petting built up more confidence, now sliding from her crown to where the coils ended at her shoulders. She let out a yip when he yanked her hair in an attempt to rub the foreign texture between his thumb and forefinger, immediately releasing the frizzy locks at the sound of her distress. 

His curiosity didn’t stop there, however. She was well aware of the irony of the situation--the researcher being studied by the subject and all that (at least, she hoped that’s what he was doing rather than sizing her up for a meal). Considering this was her first time ever encountering a merperson during one of her weekend escapades along the coastline, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine this was his first time meeting a strangely sized hybrid species as well. Maybe those local legends about sea monsters and sirens held a little bit of truth after all, he was certainly as destructive as the stories foretold of these deadly creatures.

And, the scientist side of her couldn’t help but reason with the merman. She was, after all, encroaching on his natural territory in a foreign vessel, was it truly so unexpected for it to attack? ‘Attack’ was perhaps too strong of a word. Investigate was more like it, the way it grabbed and shook her tiny boat in an effort to see what was inside this weird, floating habitat until she came tumbling out on deck. On the bright side, at least Lorelei coming down with strep the night before saved her research partner from meeting the same fate as her right now. On the downside, she was going to meet said fate alone, her true ending forever a mystery outside of these waters.

The question was: what the hell was her fate meant to be? The way his fingers and touches roamed her body continued to reassure her that she probably wasn’t going to be a menu speciality for another few moments, but beyond eating her, what other uses could he have for her? He pinched her legs and arms to bend at the joints, especially fascinated at how articulate her lower half was in comparison to his own. It was almost like he was looking for a tail where one should obviously be, trying to piece together how these two split fins could work together as one. His fingers brushed against her waist and trailing up to her neck. Gill placement, maybe? From just how close his nails were coming to her jugular, Stella feared she might just get a few extra breathing slits if she so much as hiccuped.

It was all well and good until the fingers glided back down over her chest, pushing past the soaked lapels of her coat to the swell of her cleavage, his claw eagerly slipping under the buttons of her blouse to pop a few off. Stella turned bright red, her body heating up so much that she was sure he could feel it against the cool flesh of his palm where she sat. With an indignant shriek, she slapped the digit away from her body, quickly covering herself with her lab coat as best she could.

“No, thank you!” She scolded, leveling a glare with the creature. “Don’t do that!”

She didn’t even have time to register what consequences might befall her actions of threat displaying a massive sea predator, not with how his ear fins flattened against his head and he jerked his hand away as if she had burned him with her touch. In his defense, he did look rather guilty, rumbling again in his throat like he was offering an apology. He tilted his head at her, repeating the noise and it was then she realized he probably didn’t actually know what was wrong, rather he was asking why it was wrong. Oh, yeah. Different species, different cultures, different takes on reproductive accessories.

“You just, y-you don’t touch people like that, okay?” He grumbled something at her and though she didn’t understand it, she knew that tone well enough to roll her eyes. “Because I said so. Why d-”

Stella froze. The monster was still pouting at her reply, but her lengthy pause paired with her suddenly shocked expression made him chirp again in question. She searched his eyes, now well aware of the deep blue iris hidden within the inky abyss around it. 

“You...c-can you understand me...?”

He furrowed his eyebrows before giving a single nod. Uh, yeah, duh? I’ve been responding to you this entire time, haven’t I? is what the expression conveyed.

“Holy shit...” she whispered. A smile was quick to tug at her cheeks, looking back at him with twinkling brown eyes. “Holy shit! You can understand me! Y-you’re...you’re intelligent!”

The creature narrowed his gaze and she quickly held up her hands in a placating motion. “I-I mean, obviously, you were always intelligent, just i-in terms of, like...you know, whatever, let’s just start over, um...” She ran a hand through her newly tangled mess of curls, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh my god, I don’t even know where to begin!”

A quick look down at her capsized boat had her reconsider. Stella wondered how much of her research and equipment inside was totally trashed as a result of being broken or waterlogged. Oh well. Literally none of that mattered right now, not when filters could be replaced and notes reprinted and one of the greatest specimens of her lifetime was three inches in front of her.

Biting her lip, she glanced between the boat and the merman. “Actually, do you, um, think m-maybe you could fix...that? And maybe put m-me down while you’re at it...?”

For a moment, he only blinked at her, silently debating her request. It was long enough to make her start to shift nervously, wondering if she had managed to misread the entire situation and was foolish to make such demands when she was still considered a food source. Thankfully, he complied and righted her boat with ease, gently depositing her on the slick deck. The rocking of the sea still caused her to slip and fall ass first on the ground, though it mattered little to her with the way her legs still felt like jelly.

A shadow engulfed her, trilling ringing in her ears from above which made her groan. “I’m fine, just...give me a minute here.” Slowly, Stella sat back up and pulled her legs towards herself until she could sit criss-cross, digging her (thankfully) waterproof handheld from her pocket to pop out the stylus, tapping and scribbling on the screen. The creature lowered himself deeper into the water until only his shoulders and above were visible, swimming around to the edge of the boat to try and see what she was doing on the tiny device. He braced his hands on the side of the hull, nearly capsizing it again, which was probably what he did the first time when she had been down in the cabin, and only letting go when Stella cried out at being toppled for the umpteenth time.

When the boat ceased most of its swaying, she fixed another sharp glare at the creature who hunched a little further into the salty waters. “Okay, rule number one, no more touching this boat. Got it?” She was half tempted to add or me in there, but...well, they could cross that bridge if something came up about that later. Regardless, he nodded at her and she sighed, repositioning herself to lean against the cabin door for a little extra stability.

“So, ever play twenty questions?”

[drax-is-inthefandom]

Divergence of Faith

Chapter 1: The Basement

By the time the clock struck 6 in the morning, the last light in the Lake house was finally turned off. Barbara Lake, a current medical student and recently divorced mother, had finally finished her theoretical career jobs, after a full day of housework and schoolwork, she could get a modest three hours sleep before having to wake up to make breakfast for the day .

Funny that Saturday morning, she would not sleep just a couple of hours as she was used to, but rather that a little one with disheveled hair and bright blue eyes had been in charge of sabotaging her alarm to make sure she slept as much as necessary. By the time the sky was turning to warm orange hues, Jim Lake Jr was already awake and active, ready to take on as much housework as a 6-year-old could do - all because Mommy could finally take a break!

Breakfast was the main thing, because a growing child just like his mother, a future doctor, had to eat well. From under his pillow he pulled out the magazine page he had ripped from his last visit to the dentist and as fast and quiet as he could go downstairs, he ran to the kitchen to collect all the ingredients that were in the magazine recipe.

It was an omelet, something he could easily do without causing a fire, lately he was helping his mom in the kitchen and taking on more and more chores in food preparation, so he was confident that there would be no problem at all with him taking care of breakfast for the day by himself.

Confident and with a smile on his lips, Jim turned on the coffee pot so that when his mother woke up he could receive her with a cup of hot coffee along with the omelet. He could already imagine his mom rested, eating without falling asleep at the table and without having to worry about having to clean or do any other chores. He could even take care of lunch if necessary! Today he just wanted her not to worry about a thing.

He was in the middle of whisking the eggs when he heard something that brought him out of his fantasies. A strange noise.

He leaned out to the stairs, his ears sharpening to make sure his mom hadn't got up. Nothing, absolute silence.

There was nothing in the living room either.

"It's nothing" He said to convince himself, it was still early and maybe his head was playing a trick on him for getting up early. Obviously the darkness that was still in the house and that did not allow him to see anything through the windows was not causing him any paranoia to be hearing noises, clearly not.

But then he heard the noise again, this time louder and accompanied by what sounded like falling boxes.

Now he was sure where the noise was coming from. The basement.

His first impulse upon hearing such noise from the place of his house that he was most afraid of was running towards the stairs to look for Mom, to seek her protection in her arms and between her sheets. But hearing her light snores through her door, just as he was about to turn the knob to enter, made him stop.

He was supposed to be doing this to get her to rest, it was supposed to be a surprise, if he ran with her because he was scared of a noise, his whole plan would be ruined. He released the knob and went back downstairs.

Again he heard noises coming from the basement.

He gulped.

“I am a big boy. I protect mom now. ” With shaky legs, Jim returned to the kitchen to take what he considered a good weapon against whatever was in the basement: the largest metal spoon in the drawer.

Armed with his spoon and accumulating as much courage as he could on his little chest, the boy slowly approached the door that led to the basement to turn the door handle with trembling hands, fearful that his movements would alert any monster behind it and get himself attacked the moment he opened it. He raised the spoon in front of him when the door was finally open, shrinking and closing his eyes to avoid seeing his enemy in the face, as if the metal utensil was enough to scare him.

A few seconds passed and nothing seemed to eat him, so he opened his eyes.

He only found the darkness of the steps. He breathed again, not realizing that he had stopped doing it, he sat on the first step with the spoon firmly against his chest, waiting again for something to happen.

Again, nothing.

"You can do this, Jim." He took a deep breath, inflating his chest with it in a gesture of pure determination, and began to descend slowly, one step at a time and without removing the spoon away from himself. He kept his eyes open, waiting for them to adapt to the darkness in order to find any sign of what that noise had been, his ears until now only caught the light grinding of the wood under its weight as he advanced.

He was already halfway up the stairs when he finally saw something. What he saw almost made him throw the spoon out of fear, but again, as if it were a sword worthy of a knight, he raised it in front of him, threatening whatever was staring back at him.

"W-Who's there?"

He could swear it, yellow eyes were staring at him as intently as he was staring at whoever was the owner of those eyes. But he was sure it wasn't remotely as scared as he was. The growl that answered his question could assure it to him.

"W-Whoever you are, I-I'm not afraid of you!"

It was a raccoon, it must be a raccoon, whenever a strange noise was accompanied by bright and threatening eyes that stared at him from the forest, his mother always showed him that it was just a raccoon. This could not be different.

"I'm not afraid of you either"

Only that raccoons didn't speak.

He wanted to scream but the words were drowned in his throat, it had closed as a maximum security vault, with all the fear he was feeling his head only managed to tell his body to do one thing. He threw the spoon directly at the owner of those yellow eyes.

"What is this?" But his strength as a 6-year-old boy was not enough to cross the entire basement space to where the invader seemed to be, the utensil was halfway, in a neutral point of both where the light of the corridor still entered but the absolute darkness of the rest of the room began.

Jim felt himself shaking as he saw a hand approaching from the darkness, a blue hand. If he was not paralyzed before, now he was fused with the steps.

After the hand, an arm appeared, then another hand and little by little the body of the owner of those yellow eyes was revealed. In just seconds, the invader was fully revealed, all in order to smell a spoon he used to serve the stews.

It was ... A strange creature, clearly it was not a raccoon. Its skin was blue, but it had no texture of fur or scales or ... or skin, it was too smooth and firm. What was it made of? Another thing that drew attention more than the color of its skin, were the horns on its head, it had two pairs, two small on the top and some larger that waved slightly to the sides, they were a color similar to ivory. On his shoulders it also seemed to have protuberances, but they were not horns, they were slightly more translucent, it was noted by how the light that entered the basement interacted with these. Crystals? And… did he have more on his back?

"What are you?" He thought he had thought about it, but seeing the invader raise his head from sniffing the spoon to focus on him, he gulped at his loose tongue.

"Something you shouldn't be seeing" From the tone in which the blue creature spoke, it showed that he wanted to sound intimidating, aggressive, but even a small child like Jim could notice the shame that the slight tremor in his tone betrayed him.

"Then why am I seeing you?" He wasn't attacking him and seemed more interested in the spoon than in him, curiosity overcame any fear he had been feeling until now. He was a boy with a nascent streak for adventure. Could you blame him?

"... Because I failed to go unnoticed to enter your house" Now yes, the shame was more obvious. The invader dropped to his butt on the ground, taking the spoon in his hands to continue sniffing it.

"Why did you come into my house?"

"Because the sun is already rising" And the question that Jim was going to ask, was swallowed by the surprise of seeing the invader taking a bite out of his spoon, making half of the utensil disappear from a bite as if it were a simple caramel.

"... Do you have more of that? It was delicious.” It took him to see how the entire spoon was devoured so Jim could even remember how to speak.

"Uh ... I don't think my mom would like to know that you ate a spoon, if I bring you something else she may worry that she has lost kitchen utensils" A pout from the blue invader was his answer and Jim couldn't avoid a giggling, he puffed out his cheeks in a similar way to Toby when he was throwing a tantrum and it was a funny sight for him.

"Why are you laughing? Do you want us to fight? ” And his laughter died as soon as he saw the invader putting himself into a position similar to that of a bull ready to charge a bullfighter, he even moved his foot as they do to signal that it will take the hit! Jim moved his hands in frenzy, he was not very excited about the idea of getting rammed with those horns that he had on his head.

"Nononono, sorry, sorry ... You reminded me of a friend, that's all"

"... Did I remind you of one of your fleshbag friends?"

"... Fleshbags? Uh ... Yes, Toby may be a little… stuffed, but it's not to call him that”

"... Stuffed? No, I meant that all of you humans are fleshbags, you are a fleshbag”

"I am not a fleshbag!"

"Yes you are!"

"Not!"

"Yes!"

Now it was Jim's turn to pout, forgetting that he was in the basement, forgetting that his only light was coming from the open door into the hallway, he got up from the step where he was sitting and with a firm step, doing his best imitation to how he saw his mom acted when someone made her mad, he walked over to the blue invader and stood in front of him.

"I'm not a fleshbag, don't call me that"

His challenge position was quickly captured but he did not receive the answer he expected, until now the invader had remained sitting or walking on all fours, but seeing him stand in front of him with such bearing, made him respond in the same way. With a push of his arms, he got up and planted in front of Jim, puffing out his chest with the intention of appearing bigger, that even without that, he was at least a head and a half taller than the 6-year-old boy, and that without counting the horns.

"Well, humans are fleshbags, so that's what you are, fleshbag"

The two little ones held their gaze, blue eyes against yellow eyes, neither wanting to give his arm to twist in that silent challenge.

Their staring war lasted long enough that they had to look away to blink, both leaving their eyes dry for not wanting to give up. Jim was annoyed, but oddly, the invader laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I did not expect to see a child stand in front of the great Draal, fleshbag"

"My name is not fleshbag! My name is Jim! Jim Lake Jr!”

"Then we already know the other's name, Jim"

A snort came from Jim's lips while Draal only laughed.

Funny that this would not be their last fight, because what these little ones did not know is that their innocent interaction would be the key point for a radical change in the both of their worlds.

A change that only time would tell what kind of path will take. Positive? Or negative?

The divergence of fate had only just begun.

[petri808]

TW: Non con/Dubious con/NSFW sex act w/supernatural creature. Vampire, chase/hunt prey. Primary Character Dabi (Todoroki)

For @bnhamonsterball​ 2020 Tumblr/Twitter main event piece 1. A Treat for hibakyochan on Twitter. Beta’d by Imitationicarus. 2k words 

Give or take the last three hundred years they’d been alive, this had to be one of the silliest holidays for an immortal to witness. Locally, one would call their kind Kyonshī, but ever since the Halloween concept came to Japan, there was a new term attributed to the undead. Vampires.

Not that the Todoroki clan cared about labels, but this holiday allowed them to come out of the shadows for one day of the year without fear of being discovered. Shibuya train station was the hotbed of Tokyo nightlife for Halloween. There were so many people out and about. The pickings were like a kid in a candy store--all these human’s dressed in an array of costumes. It was a part of their culture, so it made sense this holiday pulled the attention of the Japanese people.

“It’s stupid,” Todoroki Dabi hisses. “Why should we dress like these weirdos?!”

“Because it’s easier to blend in.” His younger brother, Shouto, ignores the tirade and fusses with his cape. “This is how the humans think vampires dress.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Capes and stupid looking suits? What’s with your slicked back hair?”

“I enjoy dressing up fancy, and I care if you go out looking like a corpse. So, shut up and get dressed so we can find some food tonight!”

The brothers make their way into a nearby nightclub and slip into one of the shadowed booths. It was easy to move unnoticed through the semi-darkened lounge. Glowing Halloween decor was scattered along the walls. Things like skeletons to pumpkins, ghosts and bats; basically, all the cliche holiday images you could think of. The loud music and disco lighting kept the mindless dancers focused off of the other patrons and boozed up barflies lined the bar counter in giggling packs. So, the only ones paying attention to newcomers were trolling for some action.    

It doesn’t take long for interested parties to drop by. Tall and handsome, Shouto found it easy to attract anyone he desired--men and women--but he was mostly interested in the blood scent they gave off. Dabi, with his crazed features, tended to attract humans that were into seedier whims. Well, they’d better, because they were his favorite meal.

Drinks were ordered to keep up appearances, and Shouto already had an attractive brunette draped across his lap. A blond woman in a zombie-esque costume sidles up to Dabi.

“Are you Frankenstein?” the blond questions as she runs her fingers along the textured staples and warped skin covering the exposed areas of Dabi’s body. “Wow! These seem so real!”

“Woman, I’m not that fucked up monster from the movies. This shit is real.”

“Pfft. This fool got himself chopped up and tossed in a fire, so I had to put him back together.” Shouto smirks at his brother. “He’s lucky they missed his heart.”

“Tch,” Dabi grunts and looks away.

“Is that why you’re burned too?” The female on Shouto’s lap asks as she touches the area around his left eye. “You poor baby.”

“Yes.” He teases her lips back to his own, dragging his canines across the flesh before pulling away. “Which is why I need the assistance of a beautiful woman like you.”

“Mmm…” The woman moans at the contact. “Anything you need, cutie.”

“Gross,” Dabi huffs. “You play with your food too much.”

“And you should learn,” Shouto continues to ghost his fingers over the woman’s cheek and neck, pulling more purrs and enchanting her with his stare, “to have a little fun. Makes it so much sweeter.”

“This is why I hate hunting with you.” Dabi stands and pulls the second female to her feet. “Let’s go have some fun blondie.”

The woman giggles and happily allows the man to drag her away. “I didn’t catch your name, mister.”

“Just call me Touya.”

“Touya,” she purrs. “Where are we going for this fun?”

“You’ll see.”

Humans were such gullible creatures. In the old days, they were much more suspicious and difficult to catch, but now, it was child’s play.

Take for instance the ridiculous story about being chopped up. The girls probably thought the siblings were joking. No one believed in supernatural creatures. Vampires, ghosts, and demons were just a bunch of nonsense to scare little kids. Sometimes, Dabi misses the sport of the old days because easy gets boring, and that’s no fun for an immortal.

So, as soon as they reach an alleyway devoid of Halloween revelers, Dabi pushes the woman against a wall. While one hand grips the base of her throat, the fingers of the other toy with her, tracing long fingernails over the contours of her cheek.

“Such a naïve little thing.” He leans in close, licking and teasing the shell of her ear as he talks. “You know it’s not smart to let a strange man take you into a dark alley.”

The pace of her heartbeat steadily rises, and the delicious scent of arousal mixed with fear pours from her flesh.

His knee nudges her legs apart, then seats itself between them, pressing his thigh forward until it rubs against her groin. A whine squeaks out from the woman and catches in her throat when his hand constricts tighter around it.

“Do you like it rough? Cause I do. Now be a good little girl and close your eyes for me. That’s it,” he whispers as he watches her eyes roll back from the lack of air. “Time to take a short nap.”

Dabi picks the woman up, throws her over his shoulder like a sack of rice, and heads for the forests surrounding Mt. Tanzawa. A human traveling this distance would take hours, but for a vampire, it only took just minutes with their preternatural speed. Sort of like jumping through space and time, they moved faster than the naked eye could process. To others watching, they were simply a blur.

“Wake up!” He slaps the woman’s face, hard.

The sting instantly revives her. “W-What’s g-going on?!” The trees blocked out the bulk of the moonlight, making it pitch black. “Where are we?”

“Far outside of Kanagawa.” Dabi grins and leans into one of the scant beams of moonlight. The woman flinches when he flashes the elongated fangs that were not there earlier. “I’ll give you one minute to run before I turn you into my prey.”

“A-are you gonna k-kill me?!”

“Mmm.” He rubs his chin. “I haven’t decided yet. So, get moving!”

The darkness swallows her screams as she takes off running as fast as her legs could carry her. But he knows it’s hard to see where she’s going with brush and fallen tree limbs, rocks and other debris tearing through her clothing. She trips and scrambles to her feet again, tears pouring down her face. Behind her, Dabi’s manic laughter echoes and bounces off the trees making it difficult to pinpoint his location.

“Someone help me!”

“There’s no one for miles,” Dabi replies harshly.

“What do you want from me?!” she cries out.

But her pleas go unanswered this time. He could hear the sounds of brush crunching under her feet as she barrels through the forest. They mask his own movements well, and the further she runs, Dabi could imagine the pain being exacted through lashes all over her skin. ‘Ughhh!’ Dabi groans and licks his lips. The woman smells absolutely delicious! Her blood and sweat trail left in her wake and the fear coursing through her veins! Nope little brother, this is so much sweeter! He loves the pounding of her heartbeat echoing in his eardrums like a primal rhythm driving him wild! It’s been so long since he’d had a meal like this one, and it was time to enjoy it.

He pounces on her from behind and clamps down so quickly, she has no chance to react. The woman’s screams tear through the night along with the puncture of his fangs into the supple white flesh of her neck. She claws in vain wherever she can reach, but the larger Dabi has no problems controlling her writhing body.

“That’s it, scream for me baby,” he mumbles into her skin.

Fuck, she tastes as good as he’d hoped! He sucks gingerly at the coppery blood. There’s no rush to this meal. And besides, the slower he drinks, the longer the heart holds out.

“Please,” the woman whimpers, “I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill me.”

Dabi releases his fangs and flips the blond over.

“Is that so?” Dabi keeps one hand on her throat, and he runs the other between her thighs and up her skirt. She instinctively clenches her legs. “Tch, thought so.”

“No, wait! I’m sorry!” she sobs and relaxes her legs again. “Take it. Please j-just don’t ki-kill me.”

“If you insist.” He grins and releases her neck. “Get the fuck on your hands and knees.”

The blonds shaky body complies, and she assumes the position. Dabi flips her skirt up and tears the fabric of her panties, then releases his own cock. He yanks her hair and wraps his hand around her throat to hold her still.

“You’re being such a good girl.” His icy breath fans over her skin, causing her to shiver. “And if you satisfy my dick, I’ll let you live.”

His cold hard cock buries itself in the woman’s tight and hot pussy.

“Fuck— yeah,” he moans, pounding relentlessly into the woman.

Her pussy was so perfectly tight, it practically sucked his dick in. She couldn’t control her body’s reaction to his conquest as sticky liquid trails down her thigh. Her quieted sobbing falls on deaf ears with Dabi too engrossed in plundering his prey.

“You should feel special, blondie.” He leans in close and licks her cheek. “Not many can say they’ve been fucked by a vampire and lived.” Dabi laughs. “Course no one’s gonna believe you, either!”

The swell of his impending orgasm triggers his icy blue eyes to turn blood red. Dabi pulls her up until they’re both just on their knees and bites down on her neck once more. He grabs her hips hard, and his sharp nails dig into the flesh.

Her moans echo into the still night air as a different set of heat floods her entire body. It was a chemical from his bite that brought on the wave of euphoria. It wasn’t something he always used to placate his prey, but it was harder to control during sex and simply came out.

She weaves one hand behind his head, and another around his ass and thigh seemingly begging for more contact.

“Tou—ya...” she purrs, his name dribbling over and over from her lips as he rides out his orgasm.

“Damn bitch,” Dabi sneers after unhinging his fangs from her throat. “Don’t get comfortable unless you wanna become my sex slave.” He knew it was just the spell making her so compliant, but frankly, the idea was appealing to him. Been a century since his last one. With all the blood loss, the woman is slowly losing consciousness. Sent into a dream world created by the chemicals of lust and the toxins from his bite. Perhaps he’d unlocked a side of her that she’d never known existed?

“I-I want more,” she whispers.

Dabi pulls out roughly and turns her around. “What did you say, slut? Getting turned on are ya?”

“I-I don’t know,” she cries, tears falling down her cheeks and skin tingling from the icy grip of his fingers. “I l-like it…”

“Hmm, maybe I could have a little more fun with you after all. What’s your name, bitch?”

“T-Toga.”

Dabi’s eyes flash red with the most sinister of smiles, then pricks his own finger on one of his fangs. He smears a drop of his blood on Toga’s lips before forcing her to suck more of it in. And as her eyes slowly turn red, he smirks.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Love your blog dude, yandere diavolo pwease 👀 i love this monster

I’m up for some devil boy, a little scenario if you don’t mind.

tw: blood/a little gore

Yandere! Diavolo

      For about the past month you’ve been trying to avoid a strange person. He seemed wonderful and pleasant when you had met him a couple months ago. Though there was a recent development at the end of the last month that made you believe something wasn’t right with the short pink haired male. After he had gotten to know you a little more, you’ve been getting constant calls from an unknown number.

    You had thought it was a mistake and told them they probably dialed a number wrong.

   “I meant to dial your number…you do remember me right?”

It was his voice. Doppio, wasn’t it?

 You stayed silent, your breathing becoming slightly unsteady.

“You do remember me, that’s why you’re being quiet isn’t it?”

Their voice was laced with a creepily impatient tone.

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

You casted your eyes to the ground while holding your phone in your ear.

“You were holding me tight around other people, embracing me, you even tried to nibble at my ear…that’s not what friends do, what you did was too intimate!”

A sigh escaped your lips “You even gave my s/o a fracture from squeezing their hand too hard”

  Not even giving him a chance to say anything back you had hung up the phone at that moment.

   Those reasons weren’t the only thing why you wanted to stay away from him. You had felt you were looking at a different person, a devil almost when you saw his eyes. Sometimes, although rare to happen you’d hear his light voice distinctly chance into some distorted cross between a deeper tone and his own.

   It still haunted you even now as you.

Weirdly though they hadn’t called since about noon. A slight relief on your part that perhaps the male had given up.

   Currently, the only reason you didn’t turn your phone off was that your s/o was going to text you in a little bit. They told you they needed a few things from the market that they forgot to pick up themselves. But they hadn’t sent the list yet. So if any of those spammy calls came in you’d have to do the usual declining or putting it on silent.

      A soft buzz came to your phone as said list appeared on your screen. Within a few minutes of getting ready, you were out the door. The simple thought of what you would be having for dinner with your s/o being the only thing lingering in your mind. 

    It was hard to contain his appearance to stay Doppio like while chopping off the fingers of your s/o. Their corpse still fresh with warmth as he successfully collected all digits from their right hand. 

    Such a shame they seemed like they were planning dinner for you but he was certainly glad they were gone for good by his hand. 

  As the head of Passione he’d normally use his power to his advantage and put everything against you. But there was just something about this particular situation that irritated him enough to do something physical himself. 

   Diavolo had also sent that message your supposed significant other was supposed to send. It would be enough time for him to get to your home quickly without you noticing. 

   It took Doppio little time to understand as a little forgetful as he was. He at least knew he had to take a bag with a bottle of wine and something wrapped up. Also he was supposed to put something in your drink? Blood? 

    Regardless he didn’t pry into the semantics of the boss’s intstructions. He was merely happy to fullfill them as best as he could. 

  Humming casually when he finally arrived, he swooped in from a door that was out of the line of sight of civilians. It was an older lock that was barely functional, though he did know there was something heavy behind it to keep intruders out. But,with the help of the boss he had no problem pushing it away and closing it back. 

   The sun was setting but he could work with fiddling around with wine glasses and setting everything on the nearby table. 

    Carefully he filled up a single glass, and slipped some of the blood still left from a finger into the red liquid.

     ““What was I supposed to do with the fingers again?” Doppio softly questioned himself. 

   He looked to the bag which still had some food inside of it. 

  “Right there was some precooked stuff in here that was probably meant for an appetizer” 

  Yeah. Yeah. That sounded right to what the boss directed him to do! 

  He slowly sandwhiched the fingers to where they wouldn’t be seen. He made sure nothing was spilled during the duration of preparing it all. 

   “Rururururur” suddenly piped out of his lips softly.

 ““Oh he’s calling me…uh…where do they have a phone?”

 He made the sound again as he got closer to a drawer.

A phone in a kitchen drawer? How strange but he wasn’t complaining. 

He swiftly opened it up and grabbed an oven mit that was stored inside. Casually he put it up to his ear..

  “My Doppio…my adorable Doppio you have done extraordinarily well” 

He smiled ““Now what do I do?”

““All you have to do is wait, and no matter the circumstances don’t let them leave the house until they eat…even if you have to drag them to the table” 

   He nodded and made a clicking noise with his lips before watching out across the window for your headlights. 

   Groceries in hand you head to the door and unlock it. Out of mere habit you turn on the lights and you notice the light to the dining room is on. 

  ““Weird, did I leave that on?” You asked while closing the door behind you after entering. 

   Keeping your eye on the living room you set the few bags you had on the counter. Before moving on to turn off the light. You would’ve thought it was your s/o’s doing but their car wasn’t parked where it usually was. Thus they couldn’t have done this.

   But as you arrive you are taken aback by a glass of wine sitting on the table with a favorite little snack of yours sitting on a plate. 

   ““Well that wasn’t there…before” 

  You took a step back only to feel yourself bump into something solid. 

 A pair of arms graciously wraps themselves around your waist. 

 ““Ugh! S/o (nam-” you were cut off instinctively knowing it wasn’t them, you just happen to say it out of habit. 

   ““Now, now don’t leave! The boss wants you to sit and eat!” 

 What the hell was he doing here!?

 ““I thought I told you to stay away from me!” You told him

““I know what you said but that doesn’t matter…what you need to do is eat” Doppio looked at you. He looked a little taller than usual…

   He started pushing you along forcing you to sit in the chair. 

His arms were still firmly wrapped around you during this whole thing. 

 You slowly picked up a portion of your little meal and brought it to your lips. Thoughtlessly you took a bite and it brought you to a weird texture that felt like…

 When you pulled it out with your mouth, you panicked and dropped it immediately realizing it was a human finger.

   ““Oh, do you not like his fingers?” That terrifying grumble came from the male’s mouth. 

   You tried to move but his grip tightened even further. His arms seemed more muscular, making your skin pale at the change. 

   ““I thought you loved everything about them?” The voice was deep and foreign to what you’ve ever heard come out of his mouth. With just a glance you could see that freaky action of his eye balls going back into his head.

  But your face was forced forward.

  ““I…I’m not a cannibal!” You whimpered at this stranger’s words

 “Tsk…that doesn’t change a thing” He retorted. 

““Now drink the wine” he ordered after that.

 You shook your head “I don’t even want to try what you did to the damn wine” 

““I’m not giving you a choice….drink the wine…” 

  He forced you to grab the cup and press it to your lips. Hard enough you couldn’t attempt keeping your mouth shut to prevent the liquid from entering. 

 Upon tasting you could already taste the iron strongly mixed with the alcohol. You wanted to gag upon reflex at the disgusting combination, but you were made to swallow it. 

    ““I…I don’t understand w-why are you doing this to me?!”

 “You attempted to ignore me, this is simply your punishment for thinking you could foolishly try to cut me off” 

   Abruptly the bulbs to the overhead lights busted.

  You shut your eyes upon impact as shards from the glass covering it and the bulbs themselves rained upon the table.

   You then felt the sensation of longer hair on the back of your neck and the side of your cheeks. You tried to open your eyes but they were kept shut by a hand. ““You don’t have permission to open them…keep them shut” 

   You gulped hard as their hand lingered on your cheeks and moved back locks of your hair. 

     “You were the one that forced my hand, but I will have what I want…and if you don’t want anything else to happen to anyone else I suggest you listen from now on” 

    He seemed to enjoy pulling his hand through your hair as well while pausing.

   ““That means you also cannot speak of any of this either” 

                                                    “My dear y/n”

[aj-artjunkyard]

Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER SIX

Takes place after the burning maze. Spoilers!

Meg propped her red high-tops up on the wooden table, engorging herself in a greasy chicken wing. I myself reclined on the sofa next to her, chewing on the best tasting fish I’d come across in a long time. The aurae brought whatever food the demigod, legacy or ex-god would like best. In my case, it was a typical ancient greek dinner - grilled fish with a small side dish of olives and olive oil. It reminded me of the old days, the heavenly smell wafting from my mother’s kitchen (minus the olives of course, as they had not yet been invented) while young Artemis and I played with nymphs, climbed trees and held archery competitions. Granted, my mother usually added a garnish of ground ambrosia, but that was slightly too impossible for me in my current state. Still, the thought brought tears to my eyes. I missed my sister and mother, more than words could describe. I managed to blink back the moisture welling up, but I was still glad we dined alone.

Our table looked pathetically desolate compared to the tables around us, which held fifteen demigods each. No one really wanted to talk to those who had pulled their respected leader into a quest which had gotten him killed. So, with our backs to the crowd, we ate in thoughtful silence (at least on my part) until Meg stirred me from my nostalgic reverie.

“You think Ella will finish the book thing in time?” Meg asked, pulling a chicken bone from her mouth and flicking it across the table.

“The Sibylline Books.” I corrected.

“Same difference.” 

“That’s my line.”

“Will they be ready or not?”

I sighed with exasperation at the impatience of my master. 

“I do not know.”

Meg rolled her eyes. 

“You never know anything.”

“Hey! I know as much as my father has left intact in my memories, and that is not my fault.”

Meg ignored my defence, and leaned over to my plate to prod my fish in the eye. 

“That’s gross,” she said, screwing up her face.

“Yes,” I agreed. “It is in fact disgusting to poke someone else’s food when they know you haven’t washed your hands.”

“Not that, dummy.” She pointed at my forkful of fish, which was halfway to my mouth. “That.”

I rolled my eyes and took another bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s hardly cooked.”

“It’s grilled.” 

Meg stuffed her face with another few bites. Her mouth was so full I was surprised she could still breathe. “Aren’t you supposed to put batter on it or something?” She asked, spraying my face with spit and bits of chicken. I grudgingly wiped it off. 

“Is there anything you Americans don’t deep fry?” 

In response, Meg lifted her feet off the low table, swivelled around and dropped them heavily onto my legs. She was now lying the length of the sofa while half-draped over me, pinning me to the soft cushioning. “Ow.”

She snorted at my discomfort, then continued to inhale her meat. 

My mind wandered around the possibilities of ever seeing my family again. My uncle Poseidon, who had always been my favourite uncle (although my only other uncles are either titans or Hades, so I guess that doesn’t come across as much of a compliment, but it is). My good friends, Hermes and Dionysus, who were always up for a good prank on Ares or ready with a bottle of wine after an awful day (but remember, alcohol is bad, kids. We only drink it because we are each over 3000 years old. Do not attempt until you are the same age, no matter what Dionysus tells you). My sister, the sharp huntress whom I would defend to the death. My mother. Sacred Sibyl, I missed my mother. I missed her warm hugs, her sweet honeysuckle scent, her soft, caring voice. I couldn’t stand the thought of never feeling her comforting presence again. I had to get home.

…

I woke, drenched in cold sweat and gasping for breath. ‘Blasted nightmares,’ I thought, desperately trying to rip the sheets off myself with shaking hands. My legs were still partially entangled when I attempted to stand, resulting in me thumping loudly to the floor. I grasped around in the dark for the small bedside table to help me stand. When I found the edge, I began to pull myself up, but the table tipped, sending me back to the hard floor and spilling its contents onto my head. The digital clock that clattered beside me read 01:38. I growled at it and stood, despite my quaking limbs. My nightmares had wildly unsettled me in ways I wouldn’t tolerate. ‘You’ll never hang onto those memories’, they taunted. ‘Give it a week and you won’t even remember their names’. 

“Shut up, shut up!” I hissed to myself. I began wondering, stumbling towards to bookshelf at the end of the long room. ‘What kind of brother forgets a sibling?’ “Stop.” ‘What kind of son?’ “Stop it!”

I began to yank old, dusty, leather bound books from the shelf, looking for anything with my name on the front. I needed to remember me. Anything. Anything at all. Finally, a large black book with the emboldened golden letters ‘APOLLŌ’ printed on the spine caught my attention. It was a few inches thick and the cover was almost as wide as my chest. Eyes widening, I harshly ripped the book out from its place, the sudden weight bearing down on my weak arms almost causing me to drop it. I did not wish to make any more noise than I already had. I wrapped it in my gangly human arms and lugged it out the door. 

I cannot say I knew where I was headed. I simply needed to get somewhere, to feel the crisp night wind sting my skin into feeling anything but numbness. I found myself marching up a hill. The extra muscle exertion distracted me from my troubles, so I kept climbing. A good way up the hill, I started to feel the pull of the familiar. Temple Hill. I scanned the assorted statues and . There was no particular order, other than ‘most important at the top’. Further on, a massive red crypt loomed, decorated with flames and human skulls. The name Mars Ultor came to me, but I overlooked it. My mind was so busy with rushing thoughts and doubts that I feared any more information might make my brain explode.

My fingers fidgeted with the tears and rough leather texture of the book in my grasp. I felt as if a band composed of nothing but timpani were performing a drumroll in my mind, getting more and more intense with each passing second. Unable to stand still for much longer, I bolted to my right, keeping my head down and following whatever path was under my feet. 

Maybe the last scraps of my godly essence guided me to the place it felt most at home. My mind was caught in such a flurry of panic that I barely noticed I was climbing marble steps until the steely cold shocked my unprotected soles. I was in an circular, open room held up by bronze pillars that were rimmed with gold. A golden dome sat over my head, and an array of my favourite items littered the right side of the room - a golden bow, a quiver stocked with arrows, an elegant grand piano. In the middle of the temple, an altar sat, waiting for sacrifices. I padded to the back of the room, my bare feet echoing on the smooth marble. Sliding my back down a pillar, I sat and heaved the book open. I was too flustered  to have possibly read a word, but the pictures soothed me. There were a few century-old ink sketches of the 'Apollo Belvedere’ in Rome, next to a modern Polaroid marked ‘Latona and Her Children, Apollo and Diana, carved 1874’ I smiled at the tranquil scene. Mother rarely appeared as such now, certainly not after the invention of many modern braid styles (she got me to teach her how to use Instagram so she can ‘see the videos all those pretty young ladies post’ and learn new hairstyles. She’s admittedly very talented. We tied on our self-held Let’s See Who Can Braid Their Hair The Fastest completion). A tear dripped onto the picture. I turned the page.

This one showed the ‘Diana as Huntress’  statue in Berlin. Artie always huffed about her statues, said they were ‘Too dramatic’. She questioned why she, a seasoned hunter, would ever stand around and wait around for the wind to blow the right direction just so she could look cool to the monsters charging at her and her girls. She can say what she likes, but I know that she prefers it when sculptors include her dogs. Just a thought for any artists out there, looking to gain Diana’s favour *wink*. I grinned at the thought of her thirteen year old form pouting up at me. The memory was fuzzy, but still clearer than usual. I turned the page again.

Again and again I flicked through photos of my relatives, skimming over the paragraphs just enough that it reminded me of their names and their relationships with me. Hermes/Mercury was my impish best friend, who I’d vowed to love for eternity. Hera/Juno was my stepmother who caused my mother and siblings nothing but pain, but somehow we respected each other enough to eat cabbage together and compliment each other’s hair. Dionysus/Bacchus was the ultimate party-man, often inviting me to play for his revelries. 

I turned the page once more. This time, I was met with an image that spanned the length of the two pages. At the top of the page, black threatening letters spelled out ‘JUPITER, FATHER OF APOLLO’ and in smaller writing ‘St Petersburg, Hermitage Museum’. Even from glancing into those blank, marble eyes, my anger spiked. ‘There he is’, I thought, ‘sitting all smug on his little stupid throne-’ I admit, my thoughts turned to bitter toddler-like insults. But looking at the god responsible for my misery made me want to throw the book across the temple and storm away. So I did just that. The book smacked into the alter (which tipped) and thumped open onto the floor cover side up, the crusty pages wrinkling under the force. I left the hook where the golden bow had hung empty as I went.

…

Twang!

The arrow just inside the red circle of the target, and I mentally awarded myself seven points. Not that it mattered. Judging by the moon’s position in the inky sky, it was now 3am - I had been at Camp Jupiter’s open-air archery range for almost two hours. No one else had been here when I arrived, and I was glad it had stayed that way. I needed time alone. To stew. I had first come out with the intention to ‘practice’ (still an alien concept to ex-flawless archers such as myself), but now, this long into the session, I was only blowing off steam. Channeling my frustration into every loose of an arrow, imagining the target as everyone who had wronged me over the course of this forsaken punishment. My knuckles tightened. My eyes narrowed. My shoulders tensed. 

Twang! An arrow buried itself deep in the flesh of Commodus’ shoulder.

Twang! A wooden shaft protruded from Caligula’s throat.

Twang! Blood seeped through the mauve suit surrounding Nero’s manipulating, insensitive heart.

Twang! Zeus howled in pain at the arrow embedded in his sternum.

Twang! Python writhed in agony, agony he deserved-

“Apollo!”

I yelped and my shot went wildly off course, flying high with no power or distance, and landing in the grass in front of the target with a thud. Whipping around, I was about to tell whoever it was to GO AWAY when I was met with an equally startled young man, dressed in pyjama bottoms and the signature purple Camp Jupiter t-shirt, with the gold letters SPQR emblazoned boldly on the front. He quickly raised his hands in a placid manner, showing that he meant no harm. Nevertheless, I remained on guard. There had been a few who had not exactly welcomed the bearers of Jason’s coffin warmly, and this had been a close friend of the son of Jupiter. I feared I could not take this particular demigod in a fight. Even though he looked to be not much older than myself, he towered above me - perhaps a few inches beyond six foot tall, which made my lanky 5”6 feel minuscule. He had handsome asian features and soft brown eyes that I wagered could shift from kindness to anger in moments. He wore jet black hair in a military cut, making him seem like the world’s youngest army general.

“Frank Zhang.” I nodded to him once before turning back to my anger outlet. I was in no mood to talk. Not after loosing any way to contact my family. Not after loosing my memories to oblivion. Not after loosing Jason. Not when I knew he could react violently, as some already had. And if his heritage and blessing from Mars went against my mortal pathetic self, I doubted I would last more than ten seconds. Thankfully, he did not look like he came to pick a fight. He came forward and stood beside me silently, watching as I drew back the bowstring. I felt his eyes bore into me, assessing my posture, my strength, my balance. It was off-putting. That, dear readers, is why my arrow went rogue. It wasn’t my fault. It thunked into the wooden leg that held up the target. I felt my cheeks redden. I glared at the stupid arrow, willing it to pick itself up and hover over to the bullseye. Unsurprisingly, this did not happen. It stubbornly stayed where it was, planted in the wood. 

I really hated having an audience for my failures, especially if the audience was a child who had once hoped and prayed for me, the Great Golden Archer, to be his father. I doubted Frank felt such a longing anymore. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was smiling sympathetically at me, having witnessed my disgraceful excuse for a shot for the first time. I decided that Gaia coming back and swallowing me whole at that exact moment would not have been protested against.

“Here,” Frank said calmly, reaching towards me and adjusting my grip on the bowstring. “You’re gripping the string too far up your fingers. You don’t want to make a fist around it.” He peered down at my feet. “And you’re too tense. Relax your stance a little.” I obliged, already seeing my stupid mistakes. My cheeks seemed to heat up even more, and I found myself resisting the urge to bury my acne-ridden face in my hoodie. Frank seemed to notice, and backed off, instead ambling over to a small supply shed where he scooped up a bow and a fistful of arrows. I kept myself occupied from the daunting future that would have Frank humiliating me by nocking another arrow. This time, I tried to take on board what advice I’d been given.

I angled my left foot closer to the direction of the target, so I took on a more open stance, then checked my fingering was correct. Taking a deep breath, I used my back muscles to push my shoulder blades together as to take the strain off my arm and shoulder muscles - an unforgotten golden rule of archery. I drew back the bowstring until I reached my anchor point (the index finger touching the corner of my mouth), and fired. Twang! Not a bullseye, but well within the first yellow circle. I grinned in delight. Success was a rare feeling nowadays.

“Good job.” He congratulated quietly, grinning and turning to his own target. We both drew our bows.

After about ten more shots, and four bullseyes on my part (how many frank got is not relevant, moving on), Frank suggested we go back inside.

“It’s early,” he said, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn. He started walking down towards the fifth cohort’s barracks, so I followed. “We should get back. Jason’s funeral is later, and you’ve barely been to sleep.”

“How did you know?”

Frank scratched the back of his neck and smiled awkwardly.

“Well, you made a bit of a racket when you were leaving the barracks. What with the whole…falling and throwing books and stuff…”

Yup. The ground was more than welcome to swallow me now. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I felt my acne-riddled face turn tomato coloured for the umpteenth time that morning, and glared at the grass.

“Apologies.” I muttered. “I panicked.”

“Yeah, you seemed upset so I told the others to leave you alone. I thought maybe you wanted some peace and quiet. But you were gone for ages, so I came to find you.”

I shot him a questioning look. ‘Why?’ He read my mind. 

“It’s my job as Praetor to make sure everyone’s safe,” he explained, his chest puffing out slightly at the little self-reminder of his recently increased status. “And, it sucks. To loose people, I mean.”

I looked up at the Roman. His eyes were shimmering with tears, but he looked me in the eye anyway. He wasn’t afraid to show emotion, which was a rare trait, especially in the legion, but one I had always admired. 

“I only knew him for a few hours. Why do I feel so awful?”

“Because Jason was a great demigod. The greatest. He made an impact on everyone he talked to.” -Frank gestured around the camp- “He really made an impact here. Especially with the loser fifth cohort.”

“He-he told me to fulfil his promise. To build temples for every god in the pantheon.”

“Yeah. He could be like that. Noble, even at the worst of times. But that’s not the reason you’ve been drilling holes into the archery equipment for an a few hours straight.”

I answered with all the intelligence of someone who hadn’t slept since 1am. 

“Huh?”

“I didn’t think to check here first,” he said. “I went up to your temple.”

I got flashbacks to my toddler-esque temper tantrum.

“Ooh. Yeah…”

“Yeah.” He responded in a tone that said ‘been there, done that, got the t-shirt’. “Families are messy.” 

“I miss them.”

“That’s normal. Bitterness is normal. You aren’t being overdramatic.” 

I smiled at the confirmation. 

“Thanks. It means a lot.”

We were back at the barracks. Frank smiled at me one last time and patted me on the back, before lumbering in. I followed. 

I slept soundly the rest of the night.

…

I walked, lead-legged, up Temple Hill. The whole camp was eerily quiet. Jason’s body had been given proper honours, and the legion had been given the day off from duties. I couldn’t stand the prying eyes of 200 kids for much longer, so, even while I had only gotten four hours of sleep and was weighed down with grief, I travelled to the only place in the camp that was truly ‘mine’. 

Tired and weary, I plopped down on the seat of the sleek, white grand piano. I ran my fingers across the smooth fallboard for a solid minute of distracted silence, before lifting it to reveal the ivory keys. They were chipped and yellowed and seemingly out of place compared to the stark white of the piano itself, were inevitably out of tune. I played a short scale, opened up the lid and tightened the loose turning pins I had hit, then continued with my scales. I repeated until I was positive that every key was in perfect harmony, which took all of ten minutes.

Satisfied with the tuning, I took a deep breath and splayed my fingers out on the keyboard, and played a tune that inspired grace and felt to me like a ballerina daintily dancing on water. After a second, the fingering flowed into my memory, allowing my hands to glide elegantly across the piano while I stared over the rim and through the gaps between the temple’s pillars, and into the distance. The sky was clear and perfect blue, and the warm breeze swept gently through my hair. I remembered sitting with my mother on Delos, our shoulders touching as together, we played two parts of the same harmony. Like two streams running down a mountain, weaving around each other and sometimes intersecting to make one stronger melody. My heartbeat calmed from the stress of what was now everyday life to me. Peril, danger and death.

A jarring dissonance of notes jolted me back to unwelcome reality. I rolled my eyes glared at the pudgy young demigod beside me.

“You know, there are ways to make your presence known without scaring flocks of birds away.”

“Yeah I know,” Meg replied shrugging. “But it’s not as fun as watching you jump ten feet in the air.”

“I wasn’t scared! I knew you were beside me!”

“Uh huh,” she grunted, turning her attention to the keys and banging a few more notes without mercy.

“I just tuned those, you monster.”

Meg smirked. Then she ordered me to shift over on the bench, and practically bounced down in the middle, leaving me with one leg hanging off the side.

“Teach me that one. The one you were playing.”

I was too taken aback to argue it’s difficulty, especially for a beginner. I thought we had long since given up on the piano lessons (Meg was not very good), and even if we hadn’t, this tune was graceful and elegant - not words commonly used to describe Meg McCaffrey. But I admit, I missed playing with someone. And so we began.

“Why don’t you watch me first, try to absorb as much of the tune as possible before I teach you the left hand.”

Meg tried to hide her smile.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Bit of a shorter chapter this time. Sorry for the long wait, I started writing out several completely different chapters and never finished them because they just weren’t good enough. Also, the point about ‘No romance’ in these chapters still stand. Frank and Apollo were written as a kid and an adult becoming good friends, NOT BOYFRIENDS. 

[daydreamindollie]

p.jm | The Siren and The Mermaid

Fragments Series: Just another incomplete written piece/plan/idea - not edited, not proofread, just raw writing w/ my notes 

|| opposites attract oneshot series ||

A/N: Jimin’s one was the one I kept working at and I had to keep redoing scene one but when I finally got something that I liked, I got distracted with school and the main series I was already working on.

WARNING: these may contain some of my notes, they will be indented and in italics so you can distinguish them from the writing. 

Also, this may contain some prejudicial views and conflicts, if you no like, you no read, okie? okie! x

✚          ✚           ✚

[SCRAP - scene 1, 1st draft] If you think about the multitudinous amount of stories based on land (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, the lot), and adore the magic that ironically makes the stories all the more believable and charming then the truest story of a mermaid and her siren shall be my first introduction to you of the infinite amount of enchanting tales that are continually made in the beautiful underwater world - their many depths still unexpected, even by the diverse amount of sea-life in it. 

All sea folk that are told this story are firstly shocked at how a mermaid and siren dare become romantically attracted but the more it is told, the more favourable it becomes like mature, burgundy wine. [SCRAP - scene 1, 1st draft]

[SCENE 1, 2nd Draft - SCRAP LATER - KEEP SNIPPETS???]

Every day has the same routine for you. 

It always starts off early, even before the crabs were awake and applauding their snappers for the usual wake-up call to ordinary merfolk, your sky would be deprived of the glistening, wavering spotlights - a spectacle gifted to us by Neptune’s cousin of the land - the sea would be biting to your skin with a frigid chill, instead, there would be weak fluorescent starfish crawling back beneath stray corals for the morning beneath you. 

Your parents are farmers, prospering ones that provided the majority of the produce consumed by merfolk, as a result, it was a requisite that you helped out around the many farms they owned. There was a diverse culture of seaweed and coral that needed to be supervised and cultivated at the right time.

To be fair, your parents had allowed you to allocate yourself whichever farm you’d prefer to supervise the growth of and nurture, a choice you took full advantage of and had you overseeing the peach corals, primarily because they were your favourite coral to eat and your parents had promised that you’d be able to have some of the coral or seaweed that you’d be maintaining. It was a win-win situation for you. 

Being sixteen, this practice and standard was definitely an abnormality to normal merfolk your age but it was something you strangely preferred. It’s delusional for you to say that it’s because you don’t get along with others or are just anti-social but it’s the opposite; your discomfort around others definitely runs deeper in meaning than simply that. Fortunately, your parents know and understand, hence why they encourage your disassociation with others. All of you are on board the idea that you’d simply learn everything there is to know about farming every edible coral and seaweed before taking over for your parents so that they’re able to just rest and survey your decisions when it becomes your time to take responsibility. 

Finally arriving at the coral farm, you smile softly and give your limbs another waking stretch before you swim forward and thank the jellyfish that light up the night for the corals’s optimum growth. 

“You can go home and rest now, thank you so much once again.” you whisper, gesturing with your hands that they should hurry along home to rest as a select few take a moment to affectionately nuzzle your outstretched palm before making their way home, “I’ll see you tonight…” you breathe, voice still soft so that they maintain good and tired for a long sleep before returning for the tonight’s shift. Their labour was a beneficial one for both sides, they provide light for the corals to grow and prosper, but they also protect them by consuming prey that can cause potential harm to them - they help grow and protect the corals at night, getting fed whilst doing so. 

Facing the coral, you do your regular survey of their condition and once satisfied, go about your daily chores for their health as you begin to hum, which eventually turns into a random song of random lyrics, expressing your most jutting emotion as for that moment in time. Usually it would be a comedic one describing your tiredness, making fun of your daily life and your own goofy traits. It was always the perfect way to start your day (other than your mother’s special breakfast platter) as it always set you up for the best moods to finish your chores. 

Another atypical trait of yours is that you like to sing. 

Most mermaids think that it’s a sin and that only Sirens dare to sing for seduction. Their further reasoning was that they didn’t need beautiful voices to attract any attention, they already have their beauty, Sirens weren’t as beautiful as mermaids so they needed their alluring voices to draw in prey and eat. You never got that odd rationality; it’s so much fun to sing and hum, especially when you need a distraction to help tiresome chores drag by quicker. 

If it weren’t for singing, you’d have nothing to entertain you during all tedious tasks. 

It really would be a problem if anybody else found out, however, you can only imagine what they’d do if they found out a mermaid was capable of singing as seductively as a Siren. There still wasn’t an issue in your mind however; you’re actually quite proud of how prepossessing your voice had become over many years of practice and you’d happily sing to your heart’s content but for your parents and the potentially bad reputation they could get from having an even more unwonted daughter was against your morals. 

For your parents, you’d do anything because they did everything - even making themselves look bad - just so that you were kept out of harm’s way. 

Looking out onto the many organised clusters of coral in the shallow area, you begin to sing an entirely new song that you had written and composed all by yourself, thinking about how, if you had never been ostracised the way you were, then would you still have accomplished something so peculiar for your kind? Something peculiar but something you were quite proud of, nonetheless. 

With a shake of your head, you vanquish the thoughts and continue about your daily tasks. It wasn’t as if you were unhappy so why should you contemplate such a thing?

[SCENE 1, 2nd Draft - SCRAP LATER - KEEP SNIPPETS???]

✚          ✚          ✚

It was hard being the outcast. Nobody liked you, nobody cared for you, nobody had your back, not that they would always be there if Jimin really was a true siren, after all, it wasn’t in their nature to be so compassionate. 

Jimin wishes they would be though, he wishes and wishes and wishes but knows that nothing will come of it. Abandoned at the age of five, he had to live life surviving like weak prey amongst the monsters that were is own society, his own kind. They never liked him and hissed that his parents were right to desert him the instant they knew he wasn’t a true siren. Siren beauty was measured differently compared to that of mermaids, Jimin - in mermaid standards - even at five years old, was reaching for gold but in siren principles, he was similar to garbage. He also didn’t have a captivating voice to lure in prey because, unlike mermaids who ate corals and seaweed, sirens could ONLY consume sea creature flesh, rivalling sharks on the food chain, those that were adventurous enough devoured human flesh once drowning them. The same way Sirens frowned on Jimin for being so ugly and not having the beautiful voice to compensate, Jimin frowned on them for daring to tamper with the upper world. It just seemed so wrong to him and human flesh, he heard wasn’t even that delicious (he’s heard), it was fatty and chewy, those that have experienced luring them in, however, have stated that humans give the most satisfying experience of seducing. Sirens seem to just live off of the feeling that seducing such expressive creatures and leading them to their deaths, most wouldn’t even eat their flesh and just drown them. 

Jimin, although ostracised by his appearance, was happy to have it as it allowed him to entice little prey fish to draw near and give him a good meal. He always felt guilty afterwards but it was his only way of living. He’s tried eating coral and seaweed, however, and was hopeful that one day he’d be able to fully adjust to the taste and texture so that he wouldn’t feel so ashamed. It was a horrible, feeling to be shameful.

Today, he had been able to snag a peach coloured coral that came adrift from the mermaid’s territory and was quick to devour it. The taste was nothing like he’d ever tasted before but that difference was obvious as the coral he found in the lacking land for sirens was dull and somewhat tasteless, if he could eat coral like this everyday, then he’s sure he’d be able to adjust to the diet smoother and at a quicker pace. 

“Well, look at this!” a melodious voice taunted, “the UGLY siren with no voice eating like a mermaid!”

Jimin stayed turned away, a grip of fear constricting his movement but he know who it was, the golden siren of his age, Jungkook. 

“You look like a mermaid, act like a mermaid and even eat like a mermaid.” grey sand kicked into the air around him as Jungkook flew to lean into his face, “Why don’t you just become one?” he grinned with sharpened teeth, “I’ll even help you!”, Jimin knew that there was evil intent behind his words but his body still wasn’t able to respond to his panicking thoughts. “First, you need to NOT be so pale. I have a cure for that,” raising a hand, he clawed for him and laughed at the marks that pinkened his torso. “Mermaids like pretty colours too right? Purple is a pretty colour,” drawing his powerful arm back, fist clenched and eyes crazed, Jungkook landed a hard hit into Jimin’s sharp-cornered jaw and propelled him backwards. 

The abuse continued, Jimin’s helpless cries never reaching anyone’s ears as he only continued to take the pain. Time passed, he couldn’t accurately calculate how much but it felt like an eternity - he was sure that he had been knocked out because once he opened his eyes again, there wasn’t a menacing figure with malicious intent hovering above him, laughing at the torment he was delivering. Upon finally getting himself together, despite the blood, despite the sweat, despite the tears, with every last bit of energy left in his frail body, Jimin swam away in a whirlwind of despairing emotions. There was no destination planned out for him and he didn’t care all he knew was that he had to leave the only place he’s ever known if he truly valued his life. 

He had to get awayawayaway. There was nothing for him living with other sirens, at least he’ll die without much suffering if he was apart from those responsible for his tribulation. His vision blurred and body pounding with the ghost of Jungkook’s violent blows, Jimin hurried on until he found refuge inside a tall tower of boulders that already hosted for sprouting flora that were foreign to Jimin but that didn’t matter for the moment. Resting was his top priority. 

☆        ☆        ☆        ☆        ☆

There were certain things you had to be to be considered a mermaid. You had to be: naturally beautiful, good natured, friendly to all sea creatures, never eat other sea creatures and never sing.

These attributes were ridiculous because you were a mermaid but…you were none of those things. That made you wonder, however, was it those principles being ridiculous or was it you? In your mind, you were beginning to think that it was you but you know at heart that you are a mermaid. Your parents are so that made you a mermaid too, right? They believe so too, they definitely know that you’re a mermaid. 

“Why am I not beautiful then?” you had asked your mother, tears glossing your precious, doe eyes. 

“Who told you that?” avoiding her searching eyes and prying question, you nibbled your bottom lip as you didn’t want to reveal that the other mer-children had pointed sharp-ended insults at you daily. “You’re very beautiful my little pearl.” it was always her soft, kind smile that you lifted your eyes up to. 

Your mother was always the one to whisper words of comfort amidst your insecurities as she held you in a homely embrace, whilst your father conveyed his consolation through a tender stare and a condoling touch on your shoulder. It wasn’t as direct as your mother’s reassurance but you appreciated him just as much because it was clear that he cared for you just as much as your mother did. 

It was no accident when you had your first encounter with true sirens, sirens with the faces of angels. It was abnormal for sirens to have such angelic faces because the reason they sang so beautifully was because they had to have some way of alluring their prey despite having hideous complexions. You knew, however, deep down, the reason behind why they appeared so prepossessing. The sirens that shoved at you, the sirens that coerced you, the same sirens that spat shockingly vile abuse at you…were mermaids. 

In your eyes, however, they were every bit a siren should be. They weren’t friendly at all, they were belittling and they weren’t beautiful as their disgust crumpled their faces into deformed unpleasant expressions. 

“They were so mean to me mama!” you criedcriedcried.

All you could remember about that day was everything. Every insult was engraved into your mind like the carving of one’s name on stone, permanently etched into the body of rock in hopes of forever commemorating the memory of a lost loved one. Not even the soft pink embrace of your mother could erase the incident from your gallery of memories, nor the frightening air that engulfed your father’s body when attempting to place punishment upon those that did harm to you, that is, before your mother pulled him back as the voice of reason. More harm than necessary can never do good. 

“It’s going to be okay baby…”  she mumbled sweetly, her solicitous pats gradually calming your quivering breath and trembling body. Your tail was curled into her stomach, causing her to coo in admiration of the coral peach colour that many mermaids rarely develop but it was only because you ate the peach coral produce of the farm so much that the scales of your tail adapted to suit your favourite snack. “You will always be my beautiful peach pearl.”

Your mother only ever spoke assurance for your concern of all physical attributes you could never seem to meet but never on your singing ability. It was your secret. If you had told her then that would have been her main concern; it wasn’t normal for a mermaid to be dull in appearance but it was even more unusual for a mermaid to sing as singing was strictly only for sirens. It was considered a sin to sing, and an even greater sin to sing as well as a siren, if not, better. Provided that there’s a chance other menfolk could hear your singing, you begged your parents to work on their farm and be able to inherit it when you were old enough, hence why your social life was non-existent, your parents agreed and you’re sad to say that your last encounter with other merfolk your age was from the traumatising one of your childhood. 

Despite your lack of a social life, you were very content, more than, even. It’s peaceful living the way that you were currently and life was easy for you. There was no stress or any complications because that only came with interacting with other menfolk that have complex emotions that are unpredictable. Deep down, there was that secret desire, however, where you wanted to have a friend that you can talk to rather than the expanse of peach coral stretching before your eyes in the shallow waters of the farm.

Peach corals were your favourite type of coral so you were eager to manage their sector in your parents’s farm and, to cure your loneliness, rather than singing, you would find yourself talking to the peach corals lined up before you. Sometimes, it is what makes your realise that you were possibly going crazy from solitude. Funnily enough, this thought process was what led to you swimming far away and discovering a tall tower of rock that has become your second home. Certainly, you never stayed there too long because of your duties but you were thrilled to finally have your own place to sing to your heart’s content. In the beginning, you kept your voice fairly quiet, not chancing anything as your heart still shuddered at the prospect of your safe place being invaded by cruel merfolk that have the sole existence of stripping you of all the things that make you who you are. At the very least, they hadn’t gone after your only loved ones - your parents. As time stretched on and your visits to the tower rock became all the more frequent, you had gotten careless and sang louder and the most powerful you had ever been. 

It was extremely beneficial to your aching soul despite the dull gnawing discomfort the inside of your throat was left in after your loud belting. Just as you were about to release a bellow of laughter from exhilarating release, you felt powerful rapid movement in the water directly in front of you. It felt as if a merman was speeding through the body of water after you and in a panicked... 

please remember that this is, unfortunately, not going to be continued as it is a part of my ‘Fragments’ Series, where I just post works that I have discontinued, maybe still in its drafting/notes-infused stage. I know it might seem like a pointless series but I’m proud of all my works and love to share more than I should. 

[antarestyl]

Soriel Discord Halloween Writing

So, we did a thing together at the Soriel Discord. :D I proudly present to you our little take on a Undertale Halloween Special. Have fun.

Warnings: Well they are scary stories. Please keep that in mind. Also this is literally multiple authors writing together so there could be some style-crashes.

Many thanks at @drawingwithgreen13  @purpleangrywitches and @heloflor02 who contributed greatly to this and to all of the Soriel Discord who are seriously nice people. Happy Halloween! :D

“On a dark and stormy night...As the wind flits through the trees...Several monsters will gather...To shoot the spooky breeze….Ooooo…” Sans wiggled his fingers at Toriel as she rolled her eyes, putting the finishing touches on his hamburger costume.

“Yes, yes, very spooky indeed! Goodness me, I’ve never met a monster so at ease being such a dork!” She covered her mouth in a giggle as Sans struck a silly pose, waving his hands as he crossed his eye lights.

“Well ya know I can’t just let this day pass without a joke or two, it’s the best holiday of the damn year.” A sigh escaped Toriel’s lips as she leaned up to peck him on the cheek, the makeup from her vampire costume smudging onto his cheek.

“Heh...I’ll never understand why you used makeup to pale your face when your fur is already stark white.” Toriel stood from her stool in front of him and offered out a hand, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Yes, well, one can always be more dolled up, you know. It’s the thought that counts, don’t you think?” Sans took her hand in his skeletal grasp, leaning up to press his grin to her...Shoulder. Still couldn’t quite reach her cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. C’mon, we have kids to go introduce to cavities.”

“Must you put it so bleakly, dearest?”

“Hehe...Yup.” After a bit more freshening up, the duo descended the stairs of their home to the bottom floor, in front of the door which lead onto the porch. Beside the door on a small table sat a bowl of assorted sweets and candies, and a couple of fruit bags. Sans stopped for a moment to stare out of the window, his usual smile widening as he saw the twinkling of stars in the cool night air.

“It’s just as beautiful as the first time we saw ‘em, don’tcha think, Tori’?” She turned to him for a second before directing her gaze out of the window, her expression softening as Pegasus shone brightly through the glass.

“Quite so...You weren’t born on the surface, were you? You won’t have seen them before…I’m ever so glad that you got a chance to do so.”

Sans shook his head, turning back to her...His eye lights seemed shinier than before, as if he were looking at something he truly admired.

“Even so, wouldn’t wanna be seeing it without you, y’know? It’d be a wasted view.” A soft blush played on Toriel’s cheeks, just about visible beneath the fur and makeup. With a shake of the head and a slight tug on his arm, she began leading him through to the kitchen.

“C’mon, you big flirt! Let’s join the others before you CHARM the night away!”

“What a CHARMING gesture” Sans winked.

“...Not your best”

“Eh, the night is young.” “Oh would you FINALLY get over here?”

The two of them were interrupted by a very impatient looking Undyne. She had her arms crossed and her food was tapping.

“The kids will be here any second and you two waste time being all… smoopy!”

“... is smoopy a word?”, wondered Sans.

Undyne looked at him as if she really wanted to slap him while Toriel just chuckled softly. “We haven’t forgotten, dear.”, she said gently, sitting down in one of the very big and plush reading chairs that they had dragged here.

“Besides, you and Alphys are all… kawaii together.”, said Sans grinning while letting himself fall into the chair beside Toriel.

“Urgh that’s different.”, huffed Undyne.

The finer points of being smoopy couldn’t be discussed however, because in that moment the doorbell run.

“TRICK OR TREAT!”, came the cheer of the children even before Undyne could open the door.

There were a lot of children, Frisk, Monster Kid, a few of the bunny children from Snowdin, Fuku Fire and that skater girl that was always hanging out with her, as well as a few of Frisk’s classmates. Sans even recognized Billy, Linda’s kid.

He wondered for a moment if she knew. Welp, not his problem.

And behind all of them stood Papyrus and Alphys, both of them beaming with delight. Also both of them were carrying stacks of candy.

“FINALLY!”, cheered Undyne and opened the door even more.

“GREETINGS! WE BROUGHT CHILDREN AND OFFERINGS OF SWEETNESS.”, said Papyrus seriously but still with a wide grin.

“Well get in there nerds, you are all in for a great treat!”

The children cheered and poured inside, sitting down on the pillows and blankets surrounding Toriel who chuckled and patted the thick, leather bound book in her lap.

“Ah, my children.”, she said softly. “I see all of you found their way here safely. Gather around me, children, for I will read you some spooky stories. And in the end, when you braved them, there will be a great reward…” She winked to Papyrus. “Of sweetness.”

There was more cheering and Toriel chuckled softly and opened the book.

“The first story is called “Lost in code”...”

“Ah, let me read this.”, said Sans, taking the book and winking. “Alright kids, let uncle Sans tell you some stories about the dangers of the knowledge and shady deals…”

He made himself comfortable, tuned a page and started to read.

“Everybody knows that the world is a world of numbers. There is a code running underneath everything, like the river under Waterfall. Human, monster, everything else… all is written in code.

It is said that very few skilled souls, very very special souls indeed, can take a look into this river below and can read the ripples of the tiny waves on the surface. They can read the code.

But to attempt to manipulate this code? Well, one would have to be a pretty dirty hacker, wouldn’t they?

There is a story you know, about a monster that tried. They were a famous monster, at their time. Brilliant and bright, full of drive and HOPE for the future. They thought they knew everything or close to everything and what little they might not knew… well that would be easy to archive, wouldn’t it?

But the monster noticed that something was blocking them. Some things eluded them. Some things just… wouldn’t add up. Some things the monster just couldn’t understand. And they were offended by it.

“I am the greatest scholar monster kind has ever seen!”, the monster lamented into the night one day. “I archived more than anybody alive! Even the king of all monster seeks my advice but still, why do things like this elude me so much?” They had started to pace in their room that was filled with all kinds of magical and technological stuff. Candles and light bulbs, books and computer parts, delicate glass concoctions and big, heavy stones with carved in runes. There was strange and unusual stuff all over his desk and his shelves, notes laying open around, sketches and theories written and drawn on so much paper.

“It is simply not fair!”, stated the monster. “I should be able to figure this out. All of it!” They sighed deeply, looking over their equipment, their notes and experiments. “I would give everything for finding the answers I seek…”

“Everything?”

The monster jumped when he heard the unfamiliar voice suddenly behind him, turning around and stared at… that person that suddenly appeared behind him. The newcomer was a skeleton… or at least looked they as if they once were one. They had a skull alright but the blacks were to black, the whites to white and all in all they radiated some sort of… wrongness. Parts of them were flickering all around, mass and texture seemed to flicker a bit… it was just unsettling to look at them.

“W..what?”, asked our unlucky scholar.

“Would you give everything for answers?”

“Well…”, the monster hesitated but the desire to get to know things, to conquer this goal they set themselves overwrote their common sense. “Yes.”

“I could show you a way.”

“How?”

“I can teach you how to reach the code. How to read the code. How to change the code.”

The monster was speechless. That sounded almost too good to be true! With that kind of power…

“What do you want for that?”, asked the monster, eager to gain this phantastic new ability.

“Don’t worry about that.”, said the newcomer. “Just take my hand.”

A hand was offered to the monster, skeletal but also not. Gray and almost see-through as if the hand was barely real but just real enough. One last moment the monster hesitated but finally gave in and shook the hand.

“I would very much like to!”

“Good.”, said the newcomer and even with the monster not getting a good look on their face, our unlucky scholar could almost hear the grin in the one word. But all of that was soon forgotten because their newfound partner kept their word.

Knowledge suddenly poured into the scholar, numbers and symbols flying inside their head. The monster almost wanted to cry. It was there, so beautiful! So simple! The code of the world, the river that was underneath everything! And it was so elegant, so easy. He could see it, read it, understand it. There were the values for every monster he had ever seen. One single digit showed if they were alive or death. One single digit for their stats. Values that showed where everybody was, who was king, who was a shopkeeper. It was all there, even the code of the stone around them, the crystals, the lava.

“The code!”, the scholar cried out. “It’s the code!”

“It is.”

“And it’s so easy! So simple! I could do anything with this!”

“I can only advise you against it.” said the newcomer but the scholar was far to excited to hear them.

They reached out, took the numbers. Shifting some values here, altering some numbers there. And finally releasing the code to make it take effect.

[LOAD]

At first, the world flickered, indicating that the alternations the scholar made were taking effect.

“YES!”, they cried, whole body shaking with excitement. “YES! IT WORKS! IT REALLY WORKS!”

But they were celebrating too soon. Because in the next moment, the floor under them was breaking away and they were suddenly falling, falling, while the world around them glitched and flickered.

“Wh...what happened?”

“You are a dirty cheater. That happened.” The newcomer was floating beside them, falling down next to the scholar. “And this is what happens to dirty hackers.”

And suddenly the world flickered and the scholar noticed that it was not the world flickering but they themselves! The scholar screamed when he realized what was happening, when he saw his own code flickering and unraveling, numbers falling, hitting zeros all around and finally corrupting further, forming strange symbols instead of numbers.

“NOOOOOOO!”, the scholar cried, the end of his screaming fading, transforming into corrupted screeching before disappearing totally.

The world gave one last flicker and the scholar had disappeared. In fact, it was like they were never there in the first place, name and status and everything they did forgotten to monster kind.

It is said that they wasn’t deleted, thou. That they still exist somewhere, between the code, washed away by the world rebelling against them altering it. Unable to interact with anything, unable to live or die, they would truly have met with the worst fate of all: to be forgotten and remember that forever.”

There was silence when he finished, some kids looking really spooked, others looked like they didn’t really understood the story at all.

“Welp, there you have it. Just remember kids: don’t make deals like “I give everything”. Also don’t cheat, at least not at something big like life.”

“I think we need something different now…”, chuckeld Toriel. “Does anybody want to stop?”

Nobody wanted to so Toriel took the book back and turned another page.

“Ah, the next one is a poem. Of something that could have been or might have been already… It’s called The Tale of a Queen.”, she said gently.

This is a Tale of a monster

From a world way more cruel

Where the only rule is

“In this world, it’s kill or be killed”.

She used to be with her people

And with the King, she was ruling

Until all her hope was destroyed

And she went to live in Ruins.

She wanted to have peace

But children fell down here;

She grew attached to each of them

And they all left to a cruel fate.

Her soul became corrupted

As she started to kill;

The Ruins grew more and more empty

Under her terrible reign.

She didn’t want to wait

For new generations

So she opened the gate

Leading to her prison.

Now she became a myth; hidden in the forest;

It is said that the kids who go close to her place,

When they go past the bridge, they tend to disappear;

Their dust were never seen, the people are too scared.

But there is one monster that she leaves coming in,

Not known for his bravoure but for being lazy

Who despite his brother wanting him far from this

Goes see her everyday and comes back in one piece.

There are rumors going on what this sentry lives

Some says he is in love, some says he is enslaved

But nobody ever dared to go check themselves

And he always denies all the visits he did.

But whatever happens to those who past the bridge,

This monster is still there and she is still active

So if you ever see a door in a forest,

Run as fast as you can or you’ll be burned to death.

“That is a really scary poem.”, mumbled a human. Billy. Sans was very sure it was Billy. And he hated to admit it but he was agreeing with him.

He hadn’t heard the Tale of a Queen for years, last time was when he was just a baby bones himself. It kinda became even more creepy now.

“It is a very old poem, written centuries ago.”, explained Toriel. “It was meant to be as a warning but I admit it is quite spooky nowadays.”

“Can we have another one?”, asked Monster kid.

“Well, we got time for one more.”, said Sans, taking the book from Toriel again. Next one is a human story. Heh, like humans had monster stories, we got human stories. So… something different now.”

He looked over the pages, glancing to Toriel and the children before starting to read.

“Have you ever heard about humans? You know, those creatures from myth where they all have four fingers, many strands of hair, and squishy things inside their chest? Just describing them sends chills down your back, doesn't it?

To a skeleton, a human would seem like a freak, having seemingly eaten a skeleton which now inhabits their body. To a boss monster, they would seem like a friend or their own child. To any other monster? The emotions vary...

You know about human history, right? You've been to the librarby, and read the book about how humans can have a physical form, but grow up and live without any compassion or love? I'm sure you have. It's very gruesome when you think about it.

But maybe the human is just lonely? Maybe they're the way they are because their parents were just assholes who treated them like shit. Maybe they were born without emotion, and can't help how they are. Maybe...it was us?

Let me tell you the story of one particular human. He had never had a happy life. His mother had a job in a different city, never visited, her phone calls lasting about 5 minutes before she hung up. He never grew up with a ma. His father was a nasty piece of work, would beat him up when he was angry, punch holes in walls, yell at people in the street for having different skin, the usual terrible parent. He never grew up with a true pa.

All his life, not one person he talked to would help. People would laugh, ridicule, roll eyes, be a dick or bitch, he didn't care. What was the point in caring if no one did to him?

He ran away from home, carrying a backpack of food and clothes, and never looked back. Once he reached the hills in Ebott, he thought he was free.

But then came GUILT.

It festered inside him, in his soul, and caused it to be still. It wouldn't pulse, wouldn't glow. Stopped.

Until a monster came by.

He was a big creatures, tall, yet very friendly looking and acting. Was shut down immediately by the human, told that he wouldn't 'fucking care 'cause who would'.

He said 'I would' and took him by the hand. He was kind, friendly, the human didn't like it. It felt wrong, he felt even more guilty. The monster only smiled and offered friendship. The human took it to see what it felt like.

Things bloomed from there, and monsters and humans grew closer.

But then hatred sprung up. Arguments, then fights, then war, and now we're stuck underground.

That one human...who knows where he is now. But he was one of the reasons for us being here. He had learned magic.”

There was silence after the story ended, the kids all looking disturbed and sad to some degree and even Frisk flinched when Sans closed the book suddenly.

“Welp that was a downer, huh?”, he chuckled.

“... are humans really that scary?”, asked one of Frisk’s human friends. “Eh…”, made Sans. “It’s complicated. Are we monster scary to you?”

“Miss Toriel is super nice!”, protested one little girl. “And she is fluffy.”

“And you make all sorts of funny puns.”, said another kid. “No way!”

“Even if I am a skeleton?”

“Yeah!”

Sans chuckled, winking at Toriel for a moment. “So… if we are not that scary… then you guys are all just little children and you are just as scary to me as I am to you.”

Some giggled, some looked confused. Frisk looked proud and that kinda was… a nice feeling. He felt Toriel suddenly nuzzling at the back of her soul.

“Well, she shouldn’t be a bonehead about our arrangement.”, she reminded him. “I guess the little ones braved all our stories and we have now a promise to keep.”

“Oh, yeah.”, chuckled Sans. “It would quite bitter and sour of us to keep the sweets huh?”

“Indeed.”

And over the cheer of the children and Papyrus’s outrageous scream, Toriel got the big bowl of sweets for the children, the big old book forgotten on her chair…

For this year.

[bangladeshfabric-blog]

Some clothing brands making PPE to take part against COVID 19

Obstructed by the dashing COVID-19's worldwide antagonistic effects, organizations of various interests have gone to a point to change over their assembling offices to deliver veils and battle against this current century's most testing analysis COVID-19. Up to a successful immunization doesn't come, to fortify the preventive proportions of the mass individuals and clinical work force, numerous organizations are changing from their traditional items to confront veil and PPE producing. Visit this website to find many foreign fabrics imported from China in Bangladesh.

Today we are going to discuss five organizations that have totally changed their direction to make this clinical hardware to help battle the deficiency. Best Fabric Textiles is one of many textile company who has introduced some anti bacterial and virus fabrics in Bangladesh.

HanesBrands

On the off chance that we consider a brand that produces regular essential attire extending from T-shirts to clothing, the name of HanesBrands will definitely come on the highest point of our psyche. This generally perceived American dress organization is presently moving its concentration to creating cotton face covers in the United States. With around 1,200 brand stores shut around the world, until further notice, this brand is currently centering essentially to the creation of their FDA-endorsed all-cotton covers.

Hanes, however a consortium of certain organizations will likewise work connected at the hip with this brand. Product of the Loom, SanMar, Beverly Knits and the National Council of Textile Organizations drove by a yarn fabricating organization called Parkdale Mills America will imitate the FDA affirmed structure which is shared by Hanes.

Matt Hall, a representative for Hanes, told Today, "The organization hopes to increase to the creation of 1.5 million veils week by week, and the consortium all in all is required to increase to the creation of 5 million to 6 million covers week by week utilizing Hanes Brands' plan and examples." Click here to find their other products.

Hole Inc.

Hole Inc., an organization generally known for its laid-back nuts and bolts and exemplary denim is experiencing a few changes in these Corona days. In any case, it has not quit doing altruistic works and keeping its business generosity.

This organization situated in San Francisco which possesses brands, for example, Athleta, Banana Republic and Old Navy in its wings, is utilizing its industrial facilities to make covers, outfits and cleans for clinical work force. The retailer chose to briefly close its organization possessed and worked stores across North America from March 19.

The brand reported on its Twitter, "Our groups are associating the absolute biggest medical clinic arranges in Calif. w/our sellers to convey PPE supplies while we rotate assets so plant accomplices can make covers, outfits and cleans for social insurance laborers on the bleeding edges."

The organization which is shutting the distinction between age hole is likewise shutting the hole between its assembling accomplices and attempting to make sense of an approach to utilize its extra articles of clothing to create more veils and defensive rigging for medical clinics and laborers to moderate the shortage of provisions.

Inditex

The name Inditex makes an image of a behemoth retailer in our brain. This Spanish monster is the proprietor of brands like Zara and Bershka. Much the same as Hanes and Gap, Inditex is additionally concentrating assets on assisting with combatting against PPE lack. Consequently, they are creating defensive gear and making a conveyance in any event once seven days straightforwardly to Spanish wellbeing specialists, who are managing perhaps the greatest flare-up.

The organization said it had just given 10,000 defensive face veils till March 19 as covers are right now the most direly mentioned clinical gracefully alongside gloves, defensive glasses, tops, and face shields. The organization additionally promised to begin making clinical outfits once they figure out how to source clinical evaluation materials and textures. For different items sought after, the organization is examining the chance of exchanging a portion of their material assembling limit over to the creation of wellbeing materials, including their assembling specialists keeping that in mind. Also see this site to see their fashion products.

Nordstrom

Generally known for convincing dress, shoes and extras for men, ladies and children, the extravagance retail chain Nordstrom, situated in Seattle, is progressing with a dream of creating 1 million face covers for the wellbeing laborers of the U.S. Joining forces with Kaas, Tailored and Province they reported to create in excess of 1,00,000 veils.

They additionally collaborated with Ascension, one of the biggest clinic organizes in the U.S. what's more, are quickly beating the deterrents among vision and truth of accomplishing the 1 million veil creation objective. "Everybody over the globe is feeling the effects of COVID-19 — including us at Nordstrom.

During this difficult second in time, we are taking a gander at one of a kind approaches to help in our networks and featuring how others can consolidate to have any kind of effect," Nordstrom said in an official statement. "We are the biggest business of tailors in North America, so we are figuring out how to use those capacities to help with the clinical flexibly lack," they included.

Their veils are made, cleaned and disseminated all through the emergency clinic systems. Also, this brand has gained notoriety for enabling workers and supporting the arrangements that engage them to do what is best for clients. That is the reason they are working for the wellbeing laborers as well as guaranteeing the security of their representatives who are as yet attempting to satisfy online requests. For that case they are making extra 60,000 reusable face covers which are keeping their business altruism.

Creeks Brothers

Creeks Brothers, broadly known for equipping Abraham Lincoln and acquainting the prepared with wear suit to American clients is America's most seasoned retailer. This 202-year-old retailer is changing over its New York, North Carolina and Massachusetts production lines from assembling ties, shirts and suits to now making veils. They intend to go through these offices to create to 1,50,000 veils for every day on a progressing premise.

To create models, the organization has collaborated with driving colleges perceived as communities for greatness for the two materials and innovation. Streams Brothers has been working intimately with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to accelerate the endorsement procedure of their models.

In an official statement Claudio Del Vecchio, the Chief Executive Officer of Brooks Brothers stated, "We are profoundly thankful to the clinical faculty at the cutting edges who are battling the pandemic, and we are regarded to do our part and join our friends in retail to give defensive covers that our human services framework basically needs." notwithstanding creating up to 150,000 covers for each day, the organization likewise needs to deliver defensive outfits.

[pengychan]

Te Rerenga Wairua - Ch. 7

Title: Te Rerenga Wairua Summary: Found by the gods drifting at sea, Maui always assumed he had been thrown in it to drown. When that assumption is challenged, there is only one way to find closure: speaking to his long-departed family. But it’s never a smooth sail to the Underworld, and he’ll need help from a friend - plus a token that fell in the claws of an old enemy long ago. Characters: Maui, Moana, Tamatoa Rating: K Prologue and links to all chapters up so far here.

A/N: by unpopular demand (read: no one fucking asked) here’s two flashbacks at the price of one. Neither of them happy.  You’re welcome.

***

For centuries, especially after finding himself stranded on an island with plenty of time to think and not much else, Maui would sometimes wonder how could he not realize Tamatoa had been the one behind the attacks.

As more and more humans spoke of missing ships and expeditions, of a monster raiding their villages in the cover of darkness to take anything valuable, he should have known right away. Everything, from the target - treasure rather than food or the pleasure of hunt - to the locations, none of them far away from Tamatoa’s island, should have been one huge red flag with a dozen arrows on it, all of them pointing towards his old friend. How could he not see it?

The answer was simpler than he would have liked: he hadn’t seen it because he hadn’t wanted to. It had to be some other monster, because why would Tamatoa do a such thing? He knew how important humans were to him. And he was his friend, or so he had thought, so of course he had dismissed the idea he may be responsible. It had been some other monster in the area Maui that would hunt down. That was it. It couldn’t be Tamatoa, because he was his buddy and he knew him well. He would never, he had thought.

… Would he?

He would, and he had. The day Tamatoa made a mistake, raiding a village before sundown and allowing the villagers to see him and describe their attacker, Maui wouldn’t tell what was it that enraged him most: his actions, or the sense of betrayal.

I trusted him!

He stormed to the island Tamatoa had made his own, swam through the underwater entrance of his cave with that thought in mind pulsing like an infected wound through the disbelief. Part of him had hoped there could be some other explanation, that he would be proven wrong. For the first time in his entire life he’d welcome being wrong, if that meant he and Tamatoa would get to laugh together at the stupid thought he’d had - but those hopes were dashed the moment he reached the empty cave.

It was only empty in the sense that Tamatoa was not there, because all kinds of treasure and shiny trinkets were scattered about. Far more than there had been last time he’d been there… and some of them, those at the very top of the pile, looked familiar even though he’d never seen them, because the villagers had described them. The Chief’s family heirlooms, shining with gold and gems, taken no more than three days earlier.

It was him. All this time, it was him.

A sound of splashing water warned him that someone else was emerging from the sea into the cave, but he didn’t bother turning. He kept staring at the treasure, his grip on the handle of his fishhook tight.

“Hey, who’s-- oh, hey, Maui! About time you dropped by again! What are you doing here, man? If you think you’re going to drag me into another of your--”

Whatever Tamatoa was about to say next died in his throat when Maui turned, his face twisted with fury. His eyes moved slowly from his face to the treasure, then to his fishhook, then finally back to Maui. He straightened himself, the wide-eyed look of a child caught with his hands in the sweets jar fading into wariness. “Don’t you know it’s rude to just let yourself in--”

Maui let out a snarl, and hit the closest wall of the cave with his hook, causing the whole place to shake and small rocks and pebbles to rain down. Tamatoa yelped and took a few steps back, trying to say something, but Maui ignored whatever he babbled. It didn’t matter. There was one thing he wanted to hear from him, and one only.

“Why?” he snapped, taking a menacing step forward.

Tamatoa flinched back. “W-well, because it’s good form not to show up and--”

“Don’t even try, Tamatoa,” Maui cut him off. The human’s pleas to do something to protect them - people who had seen their homes destroyed and heirlooms stolen, who had never seen their brothers and sisters return from what should have been a brief and easy voyage - still rang in his ears, along with his own rushing blood. “Tell me why.”

“Look, buddy, I don’t know what you’re talking--”

“I am not your buddy,” Maui cut him off again. “I am the hero of men. And I am also an idiot, because I trusted you and forgot what you are.”

“... An old friend?” Tamatoa tried, his voice a bit weaker than before. He had taken a few more steps back, but now his rear was pressed against a stone wall, and there was nowhere for him to run - if not through Maui, who was not up to let him go anywhere until they had a good talk.

He scowled. “A monster,” he spat. “I was wrong thinking you were any different. Sinking ships, raiding villages--”

“I didn’t do anything!” Tamatoa protested, lifting his claws. “I--”

“They have seen you, and you have their treasure in your cave!”

“Well, I… I just found it! And it could have been another like me they saw--”

“THERE ARE NO OTHERS!” Maui roared, causing him to flinch. “Do you really still think there is anyone but you left? They’re all gone, thank the Gods - good riddance of all of you!”

The fear on Tamatoa’s face vanished in a flash of anger. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice clipped and cold, but Maui was beyond even hearing him.

“Unless you want me to finish the job nature started and butcher you where you stand, tell me why you did it,” he growled, pointing his hook against him. His anger was barely in check and he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that if he’d been facing anyone else - any other monster except Tamatoa - he wouldn’t have bothered threatening: he would have simply delivered, and ensured he could never hurt a human ever again.

“Why?” Tamatoa repeated, and scowled. “Because treasure is wasted on them. Because I take what I want,” he said, and took a step forward. “Because I’m tired of having to stay out of sight. Because they’re fun to clobber and I look really, really cool while doing it.”

Maui ground his teeth. “Cool? Have you gone mad? Humans are helpless against you. None of those is a good enough reason--”

“Oh, but it’s a good reason to beat up a monster or two every once in a while, isn’t it?” Tamatoa shot back, and leaned closer. “Because it makes you look good and they’re fun to clobber. Why shouldn’t we do the same? Why is everyone fair game except your darlings?”

“That has nothing to do--”

“Didn’t you go and steal fire because you figured your precious humans could use it? Killed a giant eel because it was inconveniencing them, and buried its guts to get coconut trees for them? Beat up the sun itself? Didn’t you chase monsters away from their territory to make space for humans? Take treasure from the deep to give it all to them, beating up everyone in your wa--”

“ENOUGH!”

Maui swung his hook, causing Tamatoa to yelp and make a hasty retreat. Maui glared up at him, eyes aflame. “This is nothing like anything I did! You only want to hoard treasure, while all I did I did for humans--”

“No,” Tamatoa cut him off, his voice sharp. “You want to hoard praise. You want to show off. You like to think you’re so much better, but it’s all about yourself, ‘cause your mama left you to drown and you’re not over it. At least I’m honest about-- ow!” he trailed off with a cry when Maui swung his hook again, and this time caught one of his claws.

“All you are is a COWARD! They stood no chance against you!”

The blow caused the giant crab to scramble back, eyes wide, and lift both claws to protect his head, eyes darting around the cave. He was at a disadvantage in there, and he had to know it. The cave was large enough for him to sleep in and hoard his treasure, large enough to take a few steps, but not nearly enough for him to move around easily - not anymore. If a fight broke out, Tamatoa’s own size would work against him, giving Maui the upper hand almost immediately. And it was tempting, oh Gods, wasn’t it tempting, with fury burning in his chest and thudding in his head.

Yet, Maui made an effort to lower his hook and control his voice before speaking again. “Listen here and listen good, old buddy,” he all but growled. “You can count yourself lucky I considered you a friend at any point, or else you’d be done for, here and now.”

“H-hah! I’d like to see you try--”

“No,” Maui cut him off. “No, you wouldn’t and you know it. So be thankful I will not do it and listen,” he added, taking a step forward. “I don’t want to hear another peep from you, or about you, ever again. Which of course means that you’re never to bother humans again. Because if you do, I’ll hear about it and I’ll make you regret it dearly. Is that clear?”

Tamatoa scoffed. “Well, who would have guessed. So I’m not the exception anymore, am I?”

“Believe me, the fact I’m not ending you here and now makes you very much an exception. Now, I won’t ask again. Did I make myself perfectly clear?”

Tamatoa narrowed his eyes, giving him a look of pure malevolence. “Crystal,” he all but spat.

“Good,” Maui spat back. “I’ll be taking back the heirlooms you stole from the village you raided last, and if you try to stop me--” he began, gesturing towards the pile of treasure with his hook, but he trailed off when he realized something was wrong with said hook. It didn’t feel like it was the right weight, the right size or the right texture anymore, and… why was it sticky?

With a frown, Maui turned to look at the object he was holding in his hand, and screamed. It wasn’t his hook he was holding, not at all.

It was a severed crab leg, covered in blue blood.

***

“AH!”

Maui awoke with a scream in his throat that only came out as a choked out gasp because he’d tried to breathe in at the same time. He stared up at the stars, chest rising and falling fast, and it took him a few moments to realize where he was. He sat up, trying to breathe slowly, and to his relief Moana hadn’t stirred: she was sleeping only a few feet away, curled up next to the fire, her face turned towards the ocean. It was a relief: he really didn’t want to have to explain what had jolted him awake.

Purposely avoiding to turn in the general direction of the all-too-noticeable being currently sharing the island with them, Maui silently reached for a couple of logs, placed them in the fire to keep it from dying down before dawn, and settled back down to slee--

“Nnnnh….”

Maui immediately sat up as if he’d just rested on a needle, and turned to look to the spot where Tamatoa slept without even thinking about it. He was resting some distance away, but still close enough for some of the fire’s flickering light to show his features. He was screwing his eyes shut and shifting slightly in his sleep, his breath occasionally coming out in shuddering gasps and bioluminescence briefly flickering on and off. It looked like Maui wasn’t the only one unable to rest well that night.

Good, he thought. He tried to make himself lie back down, and go back to sleep.

Except that he couldn’t.

***

For centuries, especially after returning to Lalotai for the final time and making it his home - like he should have done centuries earlier, his Gran would have said - Tamatoa would stare at the stump where his leg should have been and wonder why hadn’t he taken Maui’s threat seriously enough.

He had know that he’d find out, even before he attacked that last ship, because of course another one going missing right in that area would be as good as a written confession, if he knew how to write to begin with. And of course he’d heard loud and clear what Maui had promised he’d do if he tried to pull that again - but hearing it was one thing, believing he would go through with it another. Sure, he had been mad, but hadn’t he seen him mad before? Of course he had. Maui was a bleeding heart when it came to people he knew, all bark and no bite. Tamatoa knew him well.

And besides, he was his buddy. He could threaten, but he would never, he had thought.

… Would he?

He would, and he had. He’d come for him little before sunset, while he was idly catching fish in low water beneath the highest cliff of the island, and for the first time since Tamatoa knew him he had hardly wasted any words: a thundering growl had been the only warning he’d got before Maui had launched himself on him from the cliff above, hook in his fist and clearly meaning business.

“Wha-- hey!” Tamatoa had yelped, and lifted his pincers just one time. The blow threw him back, but he took it without damage. “What’s was that abo--”

“You know EXACTLY what that was about!” Maui roared, and attacked again - and then again and again, forcing Tamatoa back towards the rocky shore, raining down blow after blow. “I told you humans are off limits, and you harmed them for the last time! I should have ended you last time instead of leaving you alive to do it again!”

For a moment, Tamatoa was unable to feel anything but incredulity; then, as he blocked another blow, said incredulity was washed away by anger. “Is that IT?” he snapped, and caught the hook in mid-air, blocking it with his claw. Maui snarled and tried to pull it back; Tamatoa resisted, glaring down at him. “Seriously? You’ve known me for thousands of years! I helped you slow down the sun for those useless, tiny, short-lived things, and now you turn on me because a few of them are whining over lost treasure that was wasted on the--”

“You were warned, and I was wrong to trust you,” Maui snarled, and managed to pull the hook free. Still, he didn’t try to strike again - not physically, at least. “You’re not worth the worst of them, you bottom-feed--”

It took less than an instant for anger to turn into boiling fury, and Tamatoa struck sideways, catching Maui on the side of the head and throwing him ashore. It would have been enough to kill any of his precious humans, but Maui wasn’t one of them anymore and he was immediately back on his feet, hook raised and teeth bared in a snarl.

Bring it, his expression said, and Tamatoa did.

They had traded blows many times, but never for real: while it had caused the occasional bruise or limp, neither of them had really gone into it with the intention to hurt. Now, they both fought to maim and kill - but despite all the viciousness they knew each other too well for the fight to end quickly. Maui was lighting-fast, almost impossible to hit, and Tamatoa’s shell was tough enough to withstand the blows, his pincers coming up to shield his unprotected head and neck before Maui could deal any serious damage. They kept clashing, tearing down trees and cracking rocks, neither of them gaining the upper hand as the sun went lower and lower at the horizon, making it look as though the sea and the sky were bleeding. For a moment Tamatoa thought it would never end, that they would stay locked in fight for all eternity, or until one of them collapsed - then, finally, a well-placed blow struck Maui’s hawk form out of the sky.

He was thrown on the ground, once again in his human hide, the hook knocked several feet away… too far for him to reach. With a cry that held rage and triumph in equal measure, Tamatoa slammed his claw down on him. He was fast, he could move quickly if he wanted to, but not quite enough. Maui rolled away right before Tamatoa struck, cracking the stone in the spot he’d been only an instant earlier, and that was it. Tamatoa never got another try.

For a moment all he felt was a grip on one of his legs, and then a pull. He heard a ripping noise, not unlike that of a large sail being torn, loud enough to cover Maui’s grunt of effort. He watched Maui staggering back with something in his hands that, for a few moments, his mind failed - or refused - to recognize.

Then, suddenly, all that his brain could register was pain.

There was a scream, one Tamatoa didn’t even realize had come from him. His own voice sounded alien to him. He staggered back, or tried to, but something was wrong, he couldn’t balance himself, he was hurting and leaning on one side and something was wro--

Tamatoa tried to catch his footing, but he had nothing to lean on on his front left, and agony kept him from thinking clearly enough, from trying anything to stop the fall. The ground rushed up to meet him, and he let out another scream when he hit his injured leg - no it’s not injured it’s gone there’s nothing but a stump - on the rocky ground.

Before him, Maui stood in silence and watched, Tamatoa’s leg still in his hands, twitching weakly. It was only when the blood reached his hands that he recoiled, as though snapped out of a trance, and stared at the severed limb he was holding. He shuddered, and dropped it as though it had caught fire. He stepped back, shaking his head, and turned to look at Tamatoa. Through the haze of pain, Tamatoa couldn’t even tell what the look of his face was.

Didn’t I tell you to keep away from humans, Tinytoa?, his Gran’s voice echoed somewhere in his mind. If they catch you they’ll pull you out of the shell, crack you open and eat you up.

But Maui wouldn’t, he tried to protest, except that he couldn’t. He found himself unable to speak, unable to scream again, and he wasn’t even that sure anymore. He didn’t know what he’d do to him now. He didn’t know anything past the fact that he was hurting. Tamatoa closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying with all his might to move, at least to get his weight off the bleeding stump, but he couldn’t do it, his entire body numb with shock.

“Maui,” he managed. He wasn’t sure what he meant to say - whether he wanted to threaten him or to ask for help - but a threat now would be laughable, and help did not come. Instead there was pressure on his back, and he knew Maui was standing on him even before he opened his eyes and forced himself to turn his head and look up, too weak to fight anymore and unable to even speak, to beg or bargain.

Maui was holding the fishhook high above his head, against a red sky, ready to deliver the final blow. He looked every bit the hero he had made himself out to be all along, about to vanquish yet another monster, one of many. Had Tamatoa focused on his face, he would have noticed his expression was anything but a hero’s: it was that of someone who’d rather be anywhere else in the world. But he did not look closely enough, cobwebs of darkness starting to cloud his vision, and just let his head fall back on the ground with a whimper.

“I had warned you,” Maui was saying somewhere above him. His voice shook but, once again, Tamatoa failed to notice.

This is it, this is how it ends, he thought. He’ll take the treasure back to his precious humans and they’ll celebrate all night long. Maybe he’ll take me to them, too, so they can crack me open and eat me up. What’s a celebration without food?

In reality, the fatal blow had never come. Above him, the hook had stayed lifted up in the air for several moments before it began to shake and, in the end, it had been lowered slowly.

“Just in case you ever think about harming humans again, old buddy, I want you to remember this,” Maui had finally spoken, forcing his voice to stay cold. On his skin, Tamatoa’s effigy had disappeared from his chest to form again behind his shoulder, in an entirely different context, leaving Maui to hold onto the sun on his own. “From this moment on, every breath you take is a gift from me.”

In Tamatoa’s nightmares, however, things would often go differently, and that one time was no exception. Above him, Maui laughed and tightened his grip on the fishhook.

“No hard feelings, Crabby. It’s a hero thing,” he said, and brought it down on his neck, causing the world around him to explode in pain.

***

Throughout her life, Moana had been awakened in a variety of ways. By sunlight, by thunder and rain, by her people’s chattering and singing, by the sound of waves, by her stupid chicken being himself, by Pua’s snout against her neck, by the screech of Maui’s hawk form - just to name a few.

However, a blood-curling scream from a creature fifty feet tall was definitely on top of her Would Not Recommend list.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!”

“What the-- no, hey! What’s gotten into you? Stop it!”

Maui’s bellow reached her ears as soon as she sat up, along with Pua’s squeal when he ran off from her side to go hide behind her boat. He was standing before Tamatoa’s trashing form, struggling to keep him down as he scrambled in the futile attempt to get up. His bioluminescence, a threatening display last time she'd seen it, came on and off wildly and without control, a flurry of light and color making the sight all the more chaotic. Maui may have not been able to hold him down normally, but this was no normal situation: Tamatoa was weakened, and probably would have had trouble standing either way.

“Stay down, idiot! You’ll just make your wound worse!”

Moana didn’t remember jumping on her feet, but she must have done so, because the next moment she was rushing by Maui’s side - although he seemed to need no help, not really. Tamatoa had stopped thrashing, and his screams had died down into a series of choked out gasps, claws reaching up to cover his head. When Maui tried to reach for him, he flinched.

“No,” he whined, and seemed to be trying - with very little success - to make himself smaller. The colors on him glowed brightly once more before dulling and then fading. “Don’t. Please please please don’t.”

At a complete loss, Moana turned to look at Maui, who shook his head. He seemed as taken aback as she was. “I didn’t do anything, honest! I just tried to wake him up and he panicked.”

“Why did you…?”

“He looked like he was having a nightmare, or something, and I thought I should snap him out of--” Maui began, only to trail off when Tamatoa let out another whine - “It hurts!” - and tried to reach for the back of his neck. He immediately stepped forward to grab his claw. “No, wait - don’t, right back at you. Look at me, Crabcake. Don’t touch it. It’s only going to make it worse.”

Tamatoa froze at the touch, one pincer still up to cover his head. One eye looked down at Maui; in the faint light of the moon and the fire Moana could see it was wide with fear, like he was expecting Maui to tear off his arm any moment, or--

… Wait a minute.

He looked like he was having a nightmare, or something.

Not since I ripped off his leg.

Please please please don’t.

Moana found herself thinking back of the worst nightmare she’d had in her life, when she’d stood helplessly watching darkness consume her island, her people, her parents. She remembered the terror upon awakening, those horrible instants when she’d been unable to tell dream from reality. It had only lasted moments, but she’d been healthy and well - not barely recovering from a deep wound and the resulting blood loss. Tamatoa was far from well and, with Maui standing before him, he was still trapped in that limbo where reality and nightmare are one and the same.

“Maui? Let me handle this,” Moana called out, putting a hand on his arm. “Step back.”

Maui frowned. “Are you sure? He’s freaking out and--”

“He’s scared. I think it’s best if he doesn’t see you standing too close. Just trust me.”

He did, of course, and stepped back as she had asked. Moana drew in a deep breath, and put a hand down on Tamatoa’s pincer, well aware of the fact he could kill her in instants if he lost it. She smiled up at him, trying to look like she meant it. “Hey. Remember me?”

Tamatoa, who’d been staring at Maui’s retreating form, blinked and looked down at her. For a few moments, he just seemed dizzy. Then he frowned, resting his head down on the sand. “Human,” he muttered. That seemed to calm him down almost right away; if anything, Moana guessed, because her presence was a rather strong hint that his nightmare had been just that. A fading nightmare. “The smart one.”

“I won’t be offended if you call me Moana, you know,” she said lightly, and gave his claw a light knock. “Mind if I climb up?”

He didn’t even seem to hear her question, and Moana decided to take it as a yes. “My neck hurts,” he complained, staring at her as she stood on top of his claw, then he frowned again. “I’m not dead though, am I?”

“Of course not,” Moana reassured him, and reached up to place a hand between his eyestalks. “You’re alive and well. You just had a nightmare.”

“But it hurts. Maui was--”

“It wasn’t him. There was a bit of an accident with the Kakamora, remember?”

“... Oh. Right,” Tamatoa muttered, then he seemed to perk up some. At least, his antennae and eyestalks did. “But I took their treasure! Right? I think I took their treasure.”

“Sure you did. It’s right over there. No, no, don’t,” she added quickly when Tamatoa tried to turn. “Don’t turn. You’d only hurt your neck. It is there - just trust me.”

The look he gave her was somewhat doubtful, but he did settle down again, head leaning in slightly against her palm. Moana gave him a tentative scratch, and was rather amused to see his eyes narrowing a little, and his frame relax another fraction. It reminded her of Pua’s reaction to head scratches, and she had to hold back a laugh at the absurdity of the comparison.

Mom, dad, I’m back. This is Tamatoa. He followed me home. Can we keep him?

Tamatoa would probably be mortally offended if he knew about that thought, so she made a mental note to share it with Maui once well out of his earshot before speaking again. “Now try to get some sleep, okay? You need to rest and--”

“You said I was amazing,” Tamatoa cut him off. His voice sounded sleepy, and keeping his eyes open seemed to be taking him an effort. Whether it was because of exhaustion or because Moana had found the right spot to scratch - didn’t crabs usually fall asleep if scratched on the abdomen? Might be interesting to try that if she ever got a chance - she couldn’t tell. “You meant it, right?”

Didn’t care either way, huh? “Sure I did.”

“Honest?”

“On my ancestors,” Moana said, and it wasn’t a lie, really. What he’d done was amazing.

“But I’m not shiny any--”

… Really now? “Who cares about that?”

“I do!” Tamatoa whined, and Moana almost rolled her eyes. How could he be so dense?

“Look, you took on a ship full of Kakamora all on your own and won. How many can say the same? Maui couldn’t,” she added, half-expecting Maui to protest, but instead he stayed silent. That was unusual, but at least it helped, because Tamatoa’s dimming gaze stayed fixed on hers. There was a twitch on his face that looked remarkably like an attempt at grinning.

“That’s right. Heh. Pretty glad I didn’t…” he paused, and whatever he was going to say next - ‘eat you’, most likely - was lost in a yawn. “Hey, about the song, did you… did you like…?”  Tamatoa yawned again. His eyes slipped shut, and he mumbled something else, or tried to.

“Shhh,” Moana said, and rested her forehead against his. “Just slee--”

"Srrnnnk-zzz..."

… Well. That had been quick.

Slowly, Moana pulled back and climbed off the pincer. Tamatoa’s snoring went from painfully loud to barely audible within seconds, and then, with a snort, it ceased. That was a relief: if he’d kept that up, there would have been no more sleep for them. Although, come to think of it, Maui looked like he’d be getting no more sleep regardless. He was biting his lower lip, absent-mindedly rubbing his hands as though he was trying to clean them, and his gaze was fixed on Tamatoa. More specifically, on the stump of his missing limb. He must have guessed what the nightmare had been about, like she had, and he looked quite uncomfortable about it.

“Are you okay?”

Maui recoiled, and gave her a lopsided grin. It wasn’t very convincing. “Sure. Say, mind if I borrow your boat? Just to go fishing. I won’t even shut you into a cave this time.”

Moana made a face. “How nice of you. You’re not even subjecting me to a musical number,” she joked. Much to her surprise, Maui paused and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“I, uh. Didn’t apologize for that, did I?” he muttered.

“... For the musical number? It wasn’t that bad--”

“I left you there thinking you’d never make it out of that cave,” Maui explained, avoiding her gaze. “You could have died in there, but I didn’t care. You had something I wanted - the boat - and I just… didn’t care what happened to you as long as I had it and could leave with it.”

Oh ancestors, please no. That wasn’t the kind of talk Moana wanted to put up with at the moment. “Well, I did make it out,” she pointed out. “The Ocean chose me for a reason and so on. And besides, I’d say everything that came after that counts as an apology. If you don’t think so,” she added lightly, reaching to grab her oar and hand it to him, “feel free to catch some breakfast for me as well.”

Maui stared at her for a moment, then his expression melted in a grin. “Hah! I’ll make sure to keep some fish aside for you. The big guy over there eats plenty.”

“Yep, I’ve seen it. But as long as it keeps me off the menu, I have no complaints,” she commented, causing Maui to chuckle.

“I think you’re firmly out of it, no worries. Looks like he’s taken a shine to you,” he said. Moana stared at him, dead-panned, and Maui shrugged. “Well, I thought it was funny. Bet Crabcake would agree.”

Because you have the worst sense of humor, Moana thought, but decided not to say as much. After all, that meant they had at least some common ground left, and she supposed it was sort of a good thing.

Not that it made their sense of humor any better.

***

[Back to Chapter 6]

[On to Chapter 8]

[finesseandbones-blog]

Chapter 5

-- Day 3 Of Nostalgic Nightmare --

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M a y   1 7 ,  2 0 3 X

8 : 4 5   P . M .

S a n s '   R e s i d e n c e , M o n s t e r  B a s e

L o c a t i o n   u n k n o w n

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-- (BACK TO YOUR POV) --

I woke up with a body ache as my eyes try to regain my normal eyesight.

I was expecting that I'm back at my prison room, where Sans used to imprison me.

But I didn't wake up in there.

I woke up in a bed, a comfy one.

Regaining my energy, I tried stretching my arms and legs, but ended myself up suffering in pain.

Then I realized that my clothes were changed.

DID THAT FUCKTARD CHANGED ME LAST NIGHT?

That perverted imbecile.

I quickly tried to sit, but all these muscle pain triggered and guess what, I failed to do so.

While suffering from the pain, Sans came in with pills and my breakfast in a tray.

"Good morning, cookie. Did ya sleep well?" He asked while putting down my breakfast beside me.

My breakfast are newly cooked waffles with syrup and a tall glass of milk.

Damn this is delicious. Never expected this from a crazy ass skeleton.

"Still aching everywhere. Can't even make myself move." I replied weakly as he chuckled.

"Here, let me help you ; nice and slow." He walked beside me and supported my back and the back of my thighs with his hands.

When he attempted to carry me, I felt a sudden jolt of pain as I groaned and closed my eyes.

"Are you okay?" He assures me as he caressed my back.

"Yeah, I guess." I mumbled as he continued to help me sit up.

After seconds of pain and suffering, I successfully sat down in the bed with my back leaning against the pillow and my lower part resting on his bed.

"Okay. Can you feed yourself?" He asks as he settles my breakfast in a tray on my lap.

"I d-don't know. My body's really painful." I groaned as he sat beside me on the edge of his bed.

He grabbed the fork and knife beside my plate and started slicing the waffles into medium pieces that are small enough for my mouth to munch.

"Open wide, babe." He commanded as I opened my mouth to get a bite of his delicious art

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M a y   1 7 ,  2 0 3 X

9 : 1 8  P . M .

S a n s '  B e d r o o m ,  S a n s '   R e s i d e n c e ,   M o n s t e r  B a s e

L o c a t i o n   u n k n o w n

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After finishing my meal and taking my medicine, Sans and I had a little conversation.

"So, uh, do you think that this war will end?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, but heck am I tired of doing this." He ranted.

"Tired of what?"

"Of-" His phone suddenly rang as he picked it up from a small table and answered it.

"Hello?"

"She's not fine. She attempted to escape but a part of Undyne's army attacked her to make sure she was weak enough."

"Yeah, weak enough to KILL HER!"

"What do you mean I need to bring her there? Alphys, she's weak and when she tries to move a limb, she'll lose her mind from the pain!"

This imbecile is strangely thoughtful...

and who the hell is Alphys?

"Use a wheelchair? I seriously can't move her limbs remember?! Hey, look. Don't be sad because I am mad at you, okay?"

"Oh, she urgently requested? heh. okay. I'll talk to her instead. Okay?"

"Bye." He ended the call with this 'Alphys' thing

"Who was that?"

"It was Alphys. I'll explain to you later who she is. Right now, I need to call someone else. Excuse me for a minute."

He stood up and walked to the door but he stopped.

"Wait. You'll end up getting bored in here. I might take long but I'll let you watch a movie." He said as he grabbed a cd compiler

(AN: Those circular thing with jean-ish texture and a zipper and when you open it, you'll see cds)

He scanned through the compiler as he smirked and pulled out a cd.

You bitch don't tell me you're going to let me watch something kids wouldn't watch.

"This is one of my favorite movies. It's 10 Things I Hate About You. You'll enjoy it. I promise."

He turned on the television and the cd player and inserted the cd inside of it, then the opening started playing.

"There we go, I'll be back soon, I promise." He smiled as he left me all alone in his room.

Oh boy.

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M a y   1 7 ,  2 0 3 X

9 : 3 6  P . M .

S a n s '   R e s i d e n c e , M o n s t e r   B a s e

L o c a t i o n   u n k n o w n

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-- Sans' POV --

I rushed to my living room and dialed Undyne's number on my phone.

"HELLO, THIS IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SPEAKING, HOW MAY I-"

 Oh, wait. I forgot that Papyrus is her "secretary".  

"Hey, Pap. I need to talk to Undyne right now."

"OH! HELLO BROTHER! WAIT A SECOND."

(Background sounds)

"UNDYNE! UNDYNE! SANS WOULD WANT TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOU RIGHT NOW!"

"GIVE ME A MINUTE, PAP!"

*mumbles something that I can't quite hear*

"What the hell do you want, G?"

"ARE YOU FUCKING-"

Contain yourself, G.

I inhaled as I gave out my best tone.

"Look, the human is badly injured, can you give us a couple of weeks for her to-"

"A COUPLE OF WEEKS? G, ARE YOU SERIOUS? MY ARMY IS GETTING TIRED OF LISTENING TO THE SAME LESSONS OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND MY ARMY'S DECREASING AT POPULATION COUNT! Who knows, some cunt killed a part of them." She shouted, making me throw my phone on the floor.

Thank Asgore that this phone is "surface-proof".

"I know and STOP SCREAMING"

Actually, I'm the cunt who killed one part of your army, Undyne just to keep the lady safe so uhm, yeah. I know.

"But, if it's okay with you and Alphys, can you please try to make Mettaton go here, or maybe Alphys can come too." I hesitantly requested.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS, G? YOUR HOUSE IS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HUMAN'S BASE! YOU'RE JUST COVERING UP IN THERE TO CAPTURE HUMANS LIKE THAT NITWIT YOU HAVE THERE!"

"For your information, I kinda teleported the whole house to the monster base and STOP SCREAMING IN THE NAME OF ASGORE!

She's not a nitwit! She's fragile and brave. All that she wanted is for this war to end like the other humans desire. Just, please. She's too weak. We're on the surface so food won't heal her that much, even the surface CORE won't do much."

I'd dare not to say this but, Undyne. If you consider her kind as nitwits, then fuck me; she's the bravest and most amazing nit wit ever.

"Wow. That was fast. Okay, fine. I'll give you 3 weeks. After that, I'll send Alphys and Mettaton there. Take care of her with all your dignity. I'll-"

"Christ, Undyne. Stop with those corny-ass speeches. Papyrus will end up training you with his greatness."

"Whatever. Oh and I'll send the Dummy and Muffet there to keep her company. Sounds good?"

FINALLY!

"Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks, Dyne!"

"Don't call me that!" Heh, must be irritated.

"Ok. Sure, whatever. Welp, gotta check how she's doing. See ya."

"See ya, lazy wondernerd."

Muffet.

MUFFET!

"Wait! Undyne!"

"What?!"

"How's Muffet doing? I accidentally crushed her because of my lazers before I kidnapped the human."

"Oh, she's been recovering. When Cake knew about the accident, Cake told me that If she ever saw you again, She'll swear to Asgore she will kill you."

"Oh, I am sooo scared huhu. Anyways, See you soon!"

"She wasn't joking, actually. Cake can get really vicious and relentless than Muffet."

"Yeah I am aware of that. I really need to go now. Bye!"

"Bye again."

Bless this angry fish, Asgore. Bless that fish.

---------------------------------

M a y   1 7 ,   2 0 3 X

9 : 4 5   P . M .

T h e   K i t c h e n

---------------------------------

After my heated conversation with Undyne, I plan to make the human's dinner for tonight.

I don't feel hungry that much but I'm sure that the human's hungry.

I chopped some onions, garlic, bell peppers and mushrooms. I started preheating a pan and a pot of water and opened a pack of pasta. If Pap ever had teleporting powers like mine, Oh he will want some of these and run around while shouting "GOOD SHIT" in every angle of the house.

(TIME SKIP LOOOOL)

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M a y   1 7 ,   2 0 3 X

1 0 : 1 3   P . M .

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After the cooking process has been done, I did some plating stuff and made sure it's worth her health. I grabbed her pills and a glass of water and placed it on the tray. I grabbed the tray and went back to my room. I opened the door with my powers.

As I opened the door, I saw her still in the same position, still watching the same movie but in a different scene. This is the scene where Kat volunteers to dictate her poem (that was dedicated to Patrick) in class.

"Hey sweetcheeks! How are you doing?" I asked her.

"I feel sad for Kat because she thinks that Patrick was playing her feelings! Buuuut on the other hand, I blame Joey for being a dickass."

"Heh, same here. I'll prepare a box of tissue in case you'll cry on the next thing that will happen."

"What do you mean?"

I pointed my finger on the tv as Kat started her poem:

" I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much that it makes me sick. It even makes me rhyme.

I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh, Even worse when you make me cry. "

Prue started tearing up as I chuckled a bit. She looks so fucking cute.

"What's so funny?" She angrily asked me as I smiled

"Nothing, nothing. I remembered something." I remembered you being the cutest fucker when I first talked to you.

She scoffed as she continued watching the tear jerking scene.

" I hate the way you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. "

After Kat ran out of class (in the movie), I glared at Prue, all wet with her tears.

I chuckled a bit.

But I asked myself;

Will she love me back?

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EDITED!

- Lennie x

P.S. 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU IS A GOOD MOVIE. WATCH IT HAHAHA

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Chapter 4

Chapter 6