#cowheaded

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dear diary… || ACCEPTING

   In the master bedroom you find it: the Empress’ diary. It is hidden in a secret compartment of antique dresser that even her husband does not know about. Black and thick with pages inked in every inch; there is more written inside it than there are blank pages. You wonder what she will do with it when she can write no more.

   The writing is dainty, but in a language you do not understand. You assume that it is SERBIAN, because of the native tongue in Novoselic. If only you knew what she had written, but perhaps it is for the best…?

Dear Diary, XX XX

   Today I took it upon myself to visit the beast. I call it such as to not disgrace the man it used to be. There is no trace of humanity left inside as it feasts on sinew and blood in the dungeons my ancestors had designed, and now its home until its merciful death. I have heard the staff whispering when they think I am not there or listening, gossiping that we have a minotaur in the castle. If only the reality of the beast’s origins were as kind to be a monster from birth. To turn someone into a such a monster, it horrifies me more than anything else he has achieved. Any man can start wars with enough drive and vigor, but to mold someone so strong and proud into something inhumane chills my soul. If I were able, I would have it killed for not only Gozu’s sake, but Mikan’s as well. I am so sorry.

   I did not know why I came at all. I was given clearance and warning; the beast was chained to the wall and it snarled ferociously at me in a voice no human should be able to make. The stench of rot and feces in the air stung my senses and bile rose in my throat. Gore painted the mask Gundam had fashioned for him, and I saw bones picked clean littering the floor. Its constant state of starvation to keep it feral and raging made it devour every morsel that it could.

   There was nothing there for me. Still, I wonder why I came at all. Damn this curiosity that plagues me. I left before my fear, it could sense it, could become so palpable that it could possibly break free from its bonds.

im calling child protective services if komaeda tries this 

     He did not complain, did not fight or squirm, but did not seem enthusiastic about it either. The little artist gravely stared at the wrestler with his solemn, pale grey eyes.