(just such BULL****)
Okay, so I’m in the middle of editing Chapter 21 of Grimgal Volume 1. And then I get this tiny little email from TOM.
“hey hika. read my fanfic pls”
Like, okay, what? I’m used to his emails being like “Thou art the dragon whom gives power unto the beast”, or “how will I ever get out of this labyrinth!” or just plain D̴̖̳̟͈̦̝̭̭̬͞Ì̵̶̳͔͙̲̜͎͎̜̳̗́͡E̶̶̹͕̥͉Ę̫̖̝͖̲̠̳̮̜̦̲̭̳̀Ḙ̵̺̘̪̬̗̪͍͢E͙̱̟̹̻͚̣̩̖̙͘E̡̢͉͚̥̻̹͕̹̙̞͔̬͈̞̕͞ͅĘ̶̤͎͖̞̰̮͖̲̣́̀Ȩ̵̵̶̱͖̱͓̳̳̭̼͓̝̝̙̲͉E̴̛̪̱̩̯̤̬̦͙̦̤̲͈̜̮, so I was a little confused. And scared. Goddamn, a more foreboding six words have never been written.
“Uh, sure,” I replied.
The following is a reproduction of this “fanfic”. It is presumably not for the eyes of mortal men; however, in my quest to unearth the true nature of the
minotaur I have become much more than a mortal man.
If you dare, then it will be the darkest memento mori of your now-shortened life. Godspeed.
Shihoru didn’t know when it happened. One day she noticed the flex of muscles in his forearms, bunching beneath his leather jerkin; two weeks later it was the flash of his smile from across Sherry’s tavern and four days after that she noticed how broad his shoulders were.
“He’s really put on muscle,” Yume gushed from the table after dinner one night. Shihoru silently agreed.
“Yume would love to see what he has under all that leather armor…” Yume giggled.
Shihoru chanced a glance at the subject of conversation sitting at the bar with the other boys. He was casually taking a sip from his tankard, the foamy contents leaving a streak of white on his upper lip.
“Rumor has it that he’s fantastic,” Mary whispered as the other two girls leaned in closer. “With his other dagger. His hidden dagger.”
Shihoru chanced another look at the bar, he was making some retort at another one of Ranta’s jabs. Oh right, Ranta. The little boy wanted her, she knew, but he would never be able to satisfy. ‘Size doesn’t matter,’ he had once said. But it did. Shihoru knew.
If it was going to be anyone, it would have to be Haru. There was a Grimgalian god under that sleepy-eyed facade and she was determined to get him to reveal it.
Shihoru started off slow; she hiked up her mage’s robes just enough to tease when she just happened sit down right in front of him during their lunch breaks in Dammrow. She also took in her shirts around the waist so that they flattered her generous curves.
She would just happen to bump into him (how silly of her clumsy self) while they were selling their day end’s loot at the market, taking care to be sure his arm and shoulders brushed against a satisfactory portion of her voluminous chest. Not that that was particularly difficult to manage.
After a week or so of these casual encounters, the perfect opportunity presented itself. He had accidentally dropped his gloves right in front of her and she was more than happy to oblige him.
She loosened the top of her shirt and bent over to pick them up just as he did, letting her ample chest spill over and out just a little. Inches from his face.
“Here you go,” she whispered, handing him back his gloves.
He muttered his thanks, face beet red.
The next day in Altana, she felt his eyes on her the entire time, boring a hole into her when he thought she wasn’t looking. She also caught him fondling his dagger several times between fights. She knew she didn’t have to wait long.
She was heading back from baths alone that night; Yume was already finished and had gone back to their room. Suddenly she was being pulled into the darkness of the dimly lit hallway, and before she could even open her mouth to scream, a hand was placed over her mouth.
“Shhh!” Came the soft hiss. “Or do you want Ranta to hear?”
He was holding her tightly, her back pressed to his front and she could feel every inch of his hard body behind her.
“You’ve been teasing me little Mage,” he said lowly his lips teasing the soft skin behind her ear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said innocently, but at the same time pressed her backside into him, feeling him stiffen against her.
“You’re a horrible liar,” he whispered and she felt his lips then tongue softly on her neck. “You’ve been a very bad girl…”
His other hand snaked itself around her waist, skimming across her flat stomach under her threadbare night gown.
“Tell me what you want, Shihoru…” he said sliding his fingers down, down, down until they stopped just agonizingly short.
Rather than reply in words, she turned her head to meet his lips, and saw in his eyes an overwhelming need as his tongue pressed into her mouth.
“Come,” he said, taking her hand, pulling her out of the hallway into one of the unused rooms.
They barely managed to get the door closed before he tore front of her night gown open and she had thrown his shirt on the ground.
“I’m yours Haru, only you can make me feel alive,” she gasped.
They fell back onto the bed, sheets winkling as their bodies entwined on top of them.
(I swear, if TOM uses his Lovecraftian powers to make this canon, ugh I swear to DOG I’m gonna uhgebsiuavdhoubavdo)
(what I’m remembering now)
-hikaslap, Grimgal editor