#no monster is a gentleman

[weirdlookindog]

Paolo Bracci - No Monster is a Gentleman

[regency-monster-love]

Monstertober day 26: full moon

Male werewolf x female human | Regency era | NSFW: oral, piv, rough, knotting, breeding, biting

The werewolf thought it best to send himself away from the estate for his first full moon since his marriage, but his new bride insisted he stay.

“I knew I was marrying a werewolf, and I've seen you, once, in that form.” Granted, it had not been during a full moon, but she had seen it. “Besides, you can’t just leave home once a month, year after year, for decades.”

She had a point there—she’d have to experience a full moon with him eventually. He hadn't thought this through enough before proposing to a human woman, but he had just been too desperately in love to worry about such details.

Now, he was worrying.

“You don't understand what you're asking for,” he told her. “I cannot stop myself from shifting that night, no matter what.”

“I know—”

“And I cannot stop myself from mating with you that night. As the wolf.”

“Oh.” She paused. “But you won't be an actual wolf. Surely the, ah, mating can't be that different.”

“It will be completely different,” he stated firmly.

“Oh,” she repeated in a faint voice.

They'd only been married about a fortnight, and so far she’d found the marital act…acceptable. Her husband was not demanding or rough, simply did his duty under the covers and her nightgown, in the dark, quietly, and then he kissed her and left. The act was sometimes mildly pleasurable to her, but she felt a strange sort of disappointment after it was over and she was alone in her bedroom again.

She wondered whether the difference he spoke of would make sex worse or better.

“I am not afraid,” she told him steadfastly.

“I am,” he replied.

~🐺~

In the end, he did not leave for the full moon, though he certainly could have defied his wife to do so. Perhaps he disliked saying no to her, or perhaps—though he would not admit this to himself—his desire to take her as the wolf outweighed his fear of how she would react to it.

The night of the full moon, he let his wife remain in the room with him to witness his transformation, and as soon as it was complete, before she could say a word, he leapt at her and snatched her up. His mind was already clouded over with the instincts and urges of the wolf, his prick already swelling and pushing free of his sheath. Already he could not recall why he'd wanted to separate them this night—she was his mate, made just for this, for him to breed.

She gasped as his long claws ripped her nightgown off her body, and instinctively tried to cover herself with her hands—they'd always had sex with nightshirts on—but he snarled and pinned her hands to the bed. “No! I want to see what's mine.”

She shivered at how much deeper and rougher his voice sounded now; when he had shown her his wolf form once before, his voice had been lower in pitch, but nothing like this. Yet she could still recognize this growling rumble as her husband's voice, and it reassured her that she was still safe with this wild creature.

The werewolf released her hands to grab her hips and hoist them into the air, close to his face. “Wh-what are you doing?” she exclaimed.

“I want to taste what's mine, too,” he rasped out, and thrust his muzzle against her cunt.

She cried out at the rough, fast lapping of his tongue against her most intimate place. Never before had he used his mouth on her there, and it was overwhelming both at how new it was and how glorious it felt. Pleasure swept through her like a hot summer storm at every swipe and plunge and flick of his long tongue.

The werewolf found it glorious as well. He had never tasted anything as intoxicating as his mate! He'd craved tasting her for so long, but that wasn't how a gentleman would make love to his wife, so he had refrained. But there would be no refraining from any of his desires tonight. He was not a gentleman, he was a wolf, and he intended to show her exactly what that meant.

He knew by her scent that it frightened her a bit, at first, but arousal was there too, and the sour undercurrent of fear soon faded entirely against the much stronger spicy-sweet scent. Never before had he smelled such potent arousal from her, and it made him preen inside, happy and proud to be bringing his mate such pleasure.

She moaned and writhed in his grip, overcome by an ecstasy that somehow was still building. Surely she could take no more, and yet she was; it continued to build, and build, and then all her muscles went taut as the pleasure erupted and utterly, blissfully consumed her entire being.

The werewolf shuddered at the feel of her cunt pulsing around his tongue. This too was new, and now that he’d felt it on his tongue, he needed to feel it on his cock—right now, and then every day hereafter.

He withdrew his tongue and flipped her over onto her belly—the position another first—then hoisted her hips up to meet his. His cock brushed against her dripping folds as he did so, and he rocked his hips to do it again, coating his length with her slick to ready himself. She looked back over her shoulder at him. “What—”

“This is how wolves breed their good little mates,” he growled, and drove into her. A shocked cry left her lips, and he grabbed her hair to keep her head turned back toward him. He leaned closer to her face, baring his teeth in a grin. “And good little mates take it.”

He was already driving his hips against her fast, unable to temper himself when the full moon was compelling him to surrender to his basest, most animalistic qualities. And he didn’t regret his surrender. Her cunt felt heavenly, and just like home, enveloping his cock in its tight, warm embrace. This was where he was meant to be, inside her, and she was meant to take him.

He leaned even farther forward, pressing his furry belly to her sweat-slicked back so he could lick her neck. “You are so sweet for me, little lamb, taking my cock so well, just like a good mate should,” he rumbled.

She whimpered, enjoying his praise but too bombarded with sensation to form any coherent response. It felt as though she was being split open with every one of his savage thrusts, and yet she adored the exhilaration of it and the satisfying fullness of her cunt on each forward slide.

“Good mates get bred with pups,” he panted as his knot knocked against her entrance again and again. “I’m going to give you my knot, my seed, breed you with my pups.”

He could smell her arousal flare at his words, and the biting scent made his frenzy for her all the greater. He rose onto his feet, still fucking her, but crouching further over her back so he could drill his cock down into her with even greater force. The edge of his knot began to breach her, and he snarled at how close he was now. Never before had he knotted her, but tonight he’d have her locked on his knot over and over again, bloated with his seed all night long.

The full moon demanded it.

She felt herself stretching farther and farther each time he pounded that bump at the base of his cock against her. It seemed impossibly big, and yet she knew, somehow, that her body could take it. And she wanted to take it. She wanted to be a good mate, like he had said. She wanted him to give her his seed and swell her with his babies. She wanted it all.

“Bite me!” she cried out. He’d told her before what it would do, connecting them indelibly as mates, a bond even stronger than the marriage vows they’d said before God. It was why he hadn’t done it yet, though he’d told her that she was his mate. He had wanted her to be sure. But oh! she was sure. She loved him, and she wanted them to be as connected as it was possible for two souls to be.

He didn’t hesitate. How could he, with the power of the full moon coursing through him and his mate’s pretty plea ringing in his ears and her delicious scent filling his snout? He just obeyed, opening his jaws and clamping down on her shoulder.

Her screams rang in his sharp ears as the taste of her blood burst on his tongue and the feel of their mating bond pierced into the marrow of his bones, and with one last wild thrust he’d shoved his entire knot into her cunt. It clamped down around him, clenching in waves just like it had done before on his tongue, and he knew he was locked within her. He snapped his hips even farther forward and his seed erupted from his cock, his knot throbbing with each glorious spurt he shot into his mate’s womb. He lifted his mouth from her shoulder and howled in triumph as his cock kept pouring his seed into her.

The heat and fullness of it felt incredible to her. He’d spent inside her before, of course, but never had it felt like this, with his knot locking everything inside, allowing her to revel in the sensation of wholeness it gave her.

He soothed over the bite on her shoulder with his tongue. She felt its sting, but even that pain was somehow pleasurable to her, and she sighed happily.

“Are you well, little lamb?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, my love.”

Carefully he tilted them over onto their sides, curling his big furry body around her small smooth one. His giant clawed hand stroked over her soft belly. He couldn’t wait for it to grow round with his pup.

“You were right: it was very different,” she murmured.

“An agreeable difference, or a bad one?”

“The best one.”

“I’m gratified to hear that.” He gently rocked his hips against her, nudging his knot around inside the channel where it was still locked tight, making her breath hitch. “Because as soon as this goes down, we’re doing it again.”

~ 😈🎩 ~

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag “my writing.”

[maddymoreau]

Image Source: Click Here

[possiblylando]

An Analysis on the meaning of each Moonscorched Contestant in Termina.

It comes with the territory; Discussions of Sexual Content Additionally, Spoilers for Termina. CHAUGNAR; Abella

Chaugnar is one of the more unusual moonscorched forms as unlike other Moonscorched forms it doesn't seem to share much with Abella herself. Chaugnar takes the form of a Large Masculine humanoid with a Mutilated Earless Elephant head. It's skin seems almost scaley in portions, Like it's been callused. The lower half of Chaugnar is the most obvious parallel in the design. Abella lives a more masculine life for the 1940s. Due to be a mechanic she's in much better shape than many other contestants. Notably being the only Female Contestant able to use two handed weapons without issue. I've not encountered anything suggesting Abella to be insecure about her masculinity; which is a bit odd for a Moonscorched form as they tend to embody the traits the original contestant was most insecure about. Chaugnar as a name originates from H.P. Lovecraft Mythos, From a creature of the same name. However it's been confirmed the name Chaugnar is a reference in name alone due to having a similar appearance to Chaugnar from Lovecraft Mythos. So the question stands, Why does Chaugnar have an Elephant's head? Looking at Elephants from a spiritual sense they tend to represent Luck and Prosperity. Which would take on an inverted meaning as Abella is one of the first Contestants to become Moonscorched. Additionally I've seen the theory that Chaugnar's Elephant Head is due to Abella being fused with another version of the Woodsman's "Parasite" which jumps her in Tunnel 7. However Abella still becomes Chaugnar if she's in your party at the Tower or the player waits until Day 4. This could be so that she doesn't have two Moonscorched forms. Depending on how you look at it this could prove or disprove the theory.

Lore - It can't be the Parasite because Abella becomes Chaugnar when she isn't caught by one.

Development - It could be the Parasite because making an entirely new Moonscorched form just for the Tower would take a lot of extra time for an unnecessary feature.

THE GENTLEMAN (THE MAYOR); Henyrk

The Gentleman is one of the more straight forward Moonscorched forms. But also one of the more interesting ones. The Gentleman takes the form of a Large Guard-Esq creature which an unusual head. It's face is twisted to the point you're unable to make out it's expression at any given moment. Additionally it's eyes are so warped it's not clear if they're eyes of secondary mouths replacing them. Put simply the Gentleman is an exaugurated version of Henyrk who's lost a majority of his inhibitions. Unlike Abella it's much more clear why Henyrk Moonscorches so early on in the competition. Henyrk is prone to Paranoia and Panic as seen in the mayor's mansion on Morning 1. The Gentleman retains most of Henyrk's sensibilities but seems unattached to Henyrk's memories. This is a twisted form of how Henyrk views himself. Notably I don't believe the Gentleman to be a bad person. Unlike many other Moonscorched forms he retains an ability to reason and control himself. He won't attack the player unless they directly insult his cooking, One of the only things Henyrk seemed to value himself on. Notably it seems the Gentleman went through several phases in development which are still leftover in the game. Under certain circumstances Marina can be found in the Mayor's mansion having been kidnapped by him. Given what I've previously said about the Gentleman I doubt he would've done anything Sexually Predatory to her as Henyrk doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do something like that. However the same can not be said for the Gentleman's original appearance.

This version of the Gentleman is much more defined demonic appearance, His face showing visible malice and anger. Additionally he can be seen with a Stinger, Similar to the guards in the first game. Clearly this initial design was meant to evoke the Guards. However unlike the Guards who are animalistic, The Gentleman is cruelly aware of his disgusting deeds. I have no doubt this version of the Gentleman would have been a Sexual Predator. Given his design was changed to remove the more crass "implications" (Less Implications more outright statements), Its logical to assume the final version of the Gentleman wouldn't be as disgusting as the original. DYSMORPHIA; Samarie

Dysmorphia takes the form of a tall black feminine creature. Her torso is notably rounded. The flesh around Her face is flayed and pulled back by a metal ring behind her head evoking the imagry of a Halo. Dysmorphia is one of the more interesting Moonscorched forms as she acts less like a monster and more like an awoken form of Samarie. She shares many of the same emotional issues and insecurities as Samarie. Dysmorphia as a name is incredibly straight forward as it refers directly to Samarie's feelings of hatred towards herself. As a recap, Samarie was apart of the Experiments in the 9th circle to contact the old gods. Her time there was torturous and awakened her ability to read minds. She feels ostracized from society and is always afraid of her imitate death due to what happened to her. Notably if she survives Termina she seems to be able to continue living just fine as she's seen to still be stalking Marina. While not explicitly stated it's possible Samarie as a form of Body Dysmorphia. Dysmorphia has a rounder stomach and torso in comparison to Samarie's stick thin body. It's hard to say if this is intentional or not due to Samarie's lack of- really anything in the game. Samarie and Dysmorphia by extension are torn between their self hatred and their need to be able to live as their true selves. As seen in their battle dialog. Player: “You were just a regular person a moment ago...” Dysmorphia: “What is that supposed to mean!? Why must everyone be regular!? Regular this! Regular that! Be normal! YOU CALL ME REGULAR!?” You managed to infuriate Dysmorphia with your persuasion efforts. (+Furious)

She's so blindsided by anyone showing any sort of kindness to her that it's enough to make her question everything she's been doing and planning for, For assumably years. Dysmorphia: “I did all this for her... I had it all ready... But then you come along...AND RUINED IT ALL!” Player: [PERSUADE] “Let's just talk this through. No harm done yet...” Dysmorphia: “Talk!? TALK!? Why would you want to talk to me!? Just look at me!” Player: “What's so weird about wanting to talk?” Dysmorphia: “...” Dysmorphia is clearly hesitating... “This is just a trick, isn't it...? You don't care about me...” (+Hesitation) I'll talk about it more in detail when I get to the Mastermind but it's also seen with Dysmorphia. Moonscorching seems less like complete monsterfication and more like an Evolution/Awakening. It's quite literally stated by Dysmorphia. Player: “What do you mean 'radiating'?”

Dysmorphia: “Like a moth! I'm finally close to bloom! A hairy moth in the night!” MONSTER; Caligura

The Monster is the most straight forward Moonscorched form. It takes the form of a giant bulbus and warty combination of a Vagina and a Ball sack. This is because Caligura is a bastard. He is a ball sack before he's moonscorched and he's a ball sack after he's moonscorched. Gaining a Vagina mouth represents his lust after women. There is not much depth present in Caligura's moonscorched form. It maintains a portion of Caligura's consciousness but not much. It's only real communication ability is insults and telling the player to choke on it's balls. Semi Unrelated to Monster; One theory I've heard is that Caligura is Samarie's Bio-Dad due to how similar they look. They look even more similar when you look at Beta Caligura in comparison to Samarie.

It's interesting enough to mention due to Monster's otherwise lack of subtly. WEEPING SCOPE; Levi

The Weeping Scope takes on a tall and semi-thin masculine form with an elongated torso. It's head has been replaced with the fleshy barrel of a tank cannon. The remains of Levi's clothes can be seen fused to it's upper torso with a notable lack of visible gentiles despite the lack of clothes. The Weeping Scope represents Levi's worst possible ending. Unlikely others like Dysmorphia and Gentleman who act as evolved forms of their contestants, Weeping Scope is Levi regressed back to his trauma and unable to escape from it. It seems to act entirely on instinct until it has a realization of what it's become. He's been turned into a weapon which can't do anything except kill. Once the player encounters the Scope for the first time it'll fire on them before fleeing. Once it flees it will hide in the Orphanage and become passive to the player unless they directly attack it. Levi is clearly still present within the Scope and still wants to be able to move on from his Trauma but is unable to escape it as he keeps getting dragged back into it. The Scope goes to the Orphanage as despite it being a location Levi was implied to have been abused in, It's the only familiar place he knows in Prehevil. Levi will never be able to fully escape the terrible circumstances of his upbringing as they'll always hang over him. -Second Reading- There's also another possible reading of the Weeping Scope which I'll mention. In this interpretation the Scope acts as an inverted version of the Cocoon. Both forms see the Contestants lose their heads in place of their most notable mutation and lose control over themselves to that mutation. The Cocoon is controlled by the Cocoon, And the Scope is controlled by it's gun. Additionally the reason no gentiles are visible on the Scope is because it doesn't have a dick, It has a Vagina which is hidden by it's pubic hair. Both the Scope and the Cocoon reveal the biggest insecurities of their contestants, Being their birth gender. This reading would make Levi trans. I think it's a valid reading even though it isn't the one I personally ascribe to. The main points against it can be handwaved. That main problem being, Levi was a Child Soldier long before women were allowed to fight in a war. Transphobia exists in the Fear and Hunger universe so it's unlikely they would let it slide. However it's also possible that they didn't care about gender in the slightest so long as they could use a gun and kill the enemy. POCKET CAT; Daan

We all know and [HAVE EMOTIONS PERTAINING TO] Pocket Cat. He's unusual because not only is he special he probably isn't a moonscorched form. He possesses Daan no matter what, The moon's radiation just speeds up the processes. Daan has without question the most cruel backstory in the series. It's almost a guarantee that his life was tampered with by outside forces. To put it simply, Daan was groomed into becoming Pocket Cat. Daan's blank soul definitely makes it easier (A blank soul may even be a requirement for possession) for him to become possessed by Pocket Cat. It's hard to say for certain how Possession works in Funger given we only really see it happen once. In lue of any deeper analysis on the meaning of Daan becoming Pocket Cat, I'd like to bring up something you may not know about. The Pocket Cat Room. If you bring a Joy Mask to the Man under the lamp post you're able to gain access to the Pocket Cat Room. The Pocket Cat Room will change depending on if Daan has been possessed or not. Here are the rooms pre and post possession.

It requires contest of both to fully make sense. In the original room it's been filled up with toys and bags. These are obvious metaphors for Pocket Cat's crimes. Every time we see him with a bag there's a child inside. Each of these bags likely hides a body inside. The way this is presented, Each time a new Pocket Cat is created the slate is wiped clean as they've yet to commit any atrocities. Meaning Pocket Cat as an entity is able to escape any sort of "Karmic Punishment" is the best term I can think to describe it. As seen in Daan's room the outlines of the Sun and Star and still present as he has yet to fully delve into Rher Worship. The body seen within Daan's room likely represent the Baron and Elise. The empty chalk outline could represent how the Baron was able to get up and become Needles. Or it could represent how Elise was daan's only concern in that moment as aside from the blood and police tape the room is blank. If we were encounter another Pocket Cat room in the future while Daan is still pocket cat (Probably won't happen), We'd likely see this room become morphed to fit the original being filled up with more sacks and toys and Pocket Cat's influence becomes deeper. THE MECHANICAL DANCE; Olivia

The Mechanical Dance is a weird one as it's both straight forward and mysterious at the same time. The Mechanical Dance takes the form of a Large metal pyramid with fan slots on it's sides. Attached at the top is a feminine torso in a suit with pauldrons of some sort and long stick arms. The face is completely blank aside from it's eyes. The entirety of the Dance seems to be made out of Metal. The most obvious part is that the Dance has lost it's legs entirely only being able to move via it's pyramid base. Representing Olivia being bound to a wheelchair due to her weak legs. That however is where the most obvious aspects end. Her being apart of the Dance makes some degree of sense as it could be reasons as Olivia wanting to be able to do something she can't usually do. It's hard (but not impossible) to Dance in a wheelchair. It seems the Dance's mannequin like appearance is there to draw attention away from the Humanoid aspects of it and draw attention to the Pyramid. This represents Olivia's fears/insecurities of being unable to escape the shadow of both Relia and her disability. So the Dance itself is secondary to it's mode of transport. Overall, One of the weirdest Moonscorched forms. GIANT; Marcoh

The Giant is another of the more straight forward Moonscorched forms. It takes the form of a large hulking creature with a strange warped black torso covered in eyes and teeth. It's head is comparable to that of a barnacle's tongue. Marcoh's personality is nearly completely absent from the Giant as it's only able to say "GUILTY!". It represents Marcoh's bad ending in which he becomes a brutish monster unable to think and which only acts in Violence. it's singular dialog line suggest the Giant believes everything it's doing is for the great good. However it's hard to say for sure. VALKYRIE; Karin

The Valkyrie is a peak moonscorch as it perfect encompasses Karin as a character and her flaws. The Valkyrie which opposite to it's name takes the form of a large Harpie with thick blonde hair. The bases of it's wings are protected by pauldrons and it's face is covered by a metal blindfold/helmet. It carries a group of Bellend on it's back. there has been a bit of debate as to what the creatures of her back are but they're clearly Bellend.

The Valkyrie's name represents Karin's own opinion of herself. In her mind she's a purveyor of truth and justice, Exposing the evils of the world and making sure those who suffer at it's hand never suffer in vein. Yet in reality her actions have acted to further ostracize the downtrodden by exposing the worst parts of their lives to the world. She's figuratively and literally blinded to the truth as she believes he's carrying lost warriors on her back to save them from death. In reality she's just bringing more Bellend to Prehevil so they can wreck havoc. From a Metaphor Standpoint, My favorite Moonscorched by far. Miro was cooking flames with Valkyrie. JUDGEMENT; Tanaka

Judgement is unusual as it just seems like Tanaka fell through a window. Judgement is another Moonscorched form which acts an awoken form of the initial contestant. Tanaka as much as he's meme'd as the guy who dies first, Is actually a very strong person. As seen in his growth throughout the festival.

If you fight needles after Tanaka is decapitated, Needles is notably damaged. He didn't go down without a fight even this early on. Judgement is Tanaka's logical end point should he never go through his growth. Judgement represents Tanaka breaking the metaphorical Glass ceiling as seen with all the glass in his attacks and the move called "Glass ceiling". It's rather blatant. Judgement still retains Tanaka's memories as seen when you present him with the Crossword puzzle. Player: (Player has Crosswords puzzle) “That sounds familiar. Did you fill this Crosswords puzzle?” Judgement: “What of it? Back when I first arrived here, I lacked the ambition and determination. I would waste my time on this planet on the most useless of things.” Judgement has become obsessed with the Grind. Money makes the world go round and Judgement wants the sun to rise each day so he can continue to grind. COCOON; Marina

The Cocoon is Marina's body which has been bent over backwards and forced to crab walk. It's grown a second pair of arms which it uses to aid in it's mobility. A second head has grown in place of her dick which is connected by a Leash to a large Cocoon made of twisted flesh that has replaced Marina's head. The Cocoon represents Marina's traumas and fears. The Cocoon exposes her biggest secret to the world and makes it one of the only things people are able to see about her. You're only really able to see the Head, The Limbs. And the Cocoon. It's hard to tell if the Cocoon controls the body now, Or if the new head control it. Either way it represents Marina being unable to escape being lead around by her birth gender and the baggage that comes with it. I've heard the theory that the Cocoon contains Domek's corpse due to Marina being found in the church on the final day after his death. Even in death he has an inescapable control over her. The Cocoon is up there with the Valkyrie when it comes to the insight and metaphor it can give us into their respective contestants. MASTERMIND; O'saa

I've saved the Mastermind for last for a reason. The Mastermind without doubt is the single most unusual Moonscorched form in the game. It takes the form of O'saa with a Fungal looking growth replacing his head. a disembodied eyeball floats above it's right hand. SO WHAT THE FUCK? The mastermind more than any other moonscorch proves that moonscorching itself acts as a form of evolution. O'saa has not changed outside his appearance and now inability to speak. The Mastermind will not hunt the player down, They have to engage in battle with it. O'saa does not topple over in pain when he becomes Moonscorched like the other contestants, He sits down and meditates. Alright are you ready for my crackpot theory? Moonscorching is a form of divine enlightenment akin to the throne of ascension in mah'abre. this might sound crazy as you're probably thinking they're nothing like the New Gods we see. However I assure you, They're quite similar. New Gods aren't actually Gods in the literal sense. They're humans who have gained incredible power through the throne. However we see through the new god forms of the first game's protagonist this doesn't automatically come with a new cool form. Take Ragnavldr for example, His New God form is horrific.

He's been hunched over and swallowed by his fur clothes which have begun to take over his entire body. It's much less gruesome than some of the Moonscorched form. But thats because everyone who can ascend in the Dungeon has gone there of their own volition. They're prepared to ascend. Aside from Samarie and O'saa, None of the contestants are at all prepared to enter a form of divine ascension. So their bodies are warped and twisted. They don't have what it takes to ascend to the next form of humanity like the New Gods. It's very possible that the Mastermind and Dysmorphia are incomplete forms of ascension which had yet to fully manifest their true selves. We fight them both soon after they moonscorch so they've had no time to grow accustomed to the green hue. Look at the normal Moonscorched people, None of them have the drive to become true Moonscorched beings like the contestants. While it's probably just for gameplay balance, Notice how we can only absorb souls from the Contestants? Their souls aren't strong enough to ascend via the green hue. Samarie and O'saa have the Radiant and Enlightened souls respectively. We know one's soul matters when it comes to moonscorching because Pocket Cat is able to possess Daan due to his Blank Soul. Rher is the trickster moon god, He doesn't want humans to ascend to godhood. However have you noticed how Rher's servants only try to stop the Girl from Ascending? True Humans can not ascend to godhood via the throne. Only Hybrid Humans can ascend to true godhood. The Girl is born of Le'Garde and Nilvan. A New god and a Human. Alll-Mer is the same. He was the son of a New god and a Human. So what if the Presence of an Old God is enough to impart a form of Divinity onto those receptive to it? The Old Gods we see in Funger 1 are only present for a single boss battle and are only traces. Yet Rher's traces are present for the entire game.

[toxooz]

new skate spot expedition 🗺

[regency-monster-love]

This fluffy smutty ficlet was inspired by @monstersflashlight's post about monster marriage tokens.

Male orc x female human | Regency era | NSFW: piv

As a little girl, she had been fascinated by the silver or gold rings that many orcs wore on their tusks. Was it simply jewelry, or did it serve some purpose? Her youthful curiosity had driven her to the village blacksmith, an orc himself, to find out why he made such things for his kind to wear. He had no time to explain tusk rings to a bothersome little human girl—but his little orc son had been glad to.

It was fitting, then, that a friendship that had started due to an interest in orc wedding rings should have blossomed into love and led to a wedding, all these years later. Here the two of them were, grown up now, a big orc groom and his little human wife, him bent down before her, her delicate hands placing a thick golden ring on his right tusk. His mouth was stretched into perhaps the widest smile she'd ever seen upon his normally gruff face. It made her want to laugh and kiss him, but all their family were watching them.

When the orc elder connected her husband's tusk ring to the new wedding ring on her left hand with a long golden chain, her orc husband looked happier still. He had assured her that it would not bother him that she had no left tusk to attach the chain to, as they would have done had she been a female orc rather than a human, and judging by his excited reaction to them becoming Linked tusk to hand, he had spoken truthfully. The big hulking male looked positively giddy.

Running the Link to a finger instead of a tusk became a problem, though, when they were alone together in their bedchamber that night and had to figure out how to remove her wedding gown without removing the chain or ring.

The orc had explained to his human, before they were married, that they would be Linked only until they consummated their marriage and became true mates. After that, they would remove the chain and wear only their rings as tokens of their Link.

But before then, it was imperative that they not remove the chain, even for a moment. So how could they get her out of the gown?

“Might we…carry out our, ah, marital duty…with my gown still on? Just this once?” the woman suggested, and was surprised to hear her husband growl low in his throat. She'd seen him have such a reaction to others, many times, but never to her.

He stepped into her, grasping her by the upper arms and seizing her gaze with a fire in his eyes. “I have waited years to find my mate and forge my Link with her, and I will not do so without seeing all of her, all of what is mine. I need you bare, wife.”

He moved his hands to her left sleeve, his thick, rough, green fingers contrasting so starkly with the soft pink silk. “How dear is this gown to you?” he asked.

“I’m pleased with it, but it’s only a gow—” Her words cut off with a gasp as he ripped the left sleeve completely off and tore the shoulder open.

“We’ll have it mended,” he told her gruffly, and shoved it off her body to the floor.

There was a blur of frantic movement then, clothes falling away, messy kisses, hands flying over newly exposed pink and green flesh, limbs tangling as they fell together onto the bed. The chain had become tangled in all this too, draped over his pointed ear and caught up in her dark hair, and they laughed together as they slowed their passion down to get it free.

Once it was untangled, the orc took hold of her left hand to lay a kiss upon her ring, then lifted her hand above her head, pinning it to the pillow there, in order to stretch the chain out in a long golden arc between them. His eyes slowly traced along its length, this gleaming symbol of their lifelong connection as mates, and his chest throbbed with a heated mixture of gratitude and want.

He was slow as he took her, not only because he was loath to hurt his little human on his thick orc cock, but also because he wanted to savor this first mating while Linked. Every plunge into her body made the chain sway between them, like it was dancing to the rhythm that their bodies made together. The only thing that could tear his gaze away from it was his mate’s beautiful face, flushed with pleasure, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted for her moans, as he buried himself in her again and again.

They learned each other’s bodies together as they forged their true Link. He slipped his free hand between them to rub at her swollen little pearl and make her arch up against him, and she slipped her free hand up to tug at his tusks and make him buckle forward with a bellow, and soon they were driving their hips against each other hard and fast, racing toward their peaks. The chain swung wildly between them now, but any sound it might be making was drowned out by the tumult of their skin slapping and ragged panting and cried-out encouragements to each other—yes, harder mate, more, more, yes my darling, just like that!—until finally it hit, her first and him immediately after, her cunt frantically milking his cock to draw out all his seed from his heavy balls into her womb.

Later, when they were sated and cleaned and lying close together under the covers, the orc rubbed his thumb back and forth over the ring on his tusk. He was smiling tenderly, a rare expression for his severe face that filled the woman with a warm happiness to look upon.

“Now we’re fully mates,” she said.

“Yes,” he said in a low rumbling voice that was practically a purr. He lifted the delicate golden chain and rubbed it between his fat calloused fingertips with a fond look. “So we can take this off now.”

“Must we? I’d like to sleep with it on, just this once.”

His smile grew wider and brighter. “I'll not say no to that, mate.”

She laid her head upon his shoulder and her left hand on his chest, the chain resting on top of his dark green skin in a glittering pool of gold that shone as bright and strong as their love itself.

~ 😈🎩 ~

This is the second time I’ve written about monsters using pretty golden chains when they get married. Oops.

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag #my writing.

[book--brackets]

Simon Snow by Rainbow Rowell (2015-2021)

Simon Snow is the worst chosen one who’s ever been chosen.

That’s what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he’s probably right.

Half the time, Simon can’t even make his wand work, and the other half, he sets something on fire. His mentor’s avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there’s a magic-eating monster running around wearing Simon’s face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here—it’s their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon’s infuriating nemesis didn’t even bother to show up.

Carry On is a ghost story, a love story, a mystery and a melodrama. It has just as much kissing and talking as you’d expect from a Rainbow Rowell story—but far, far more monsters.

Gentleman Bastard by Scott Lynch (2006-present)

An orphan's life is harsh — and often short — in the island city of Camorr, built on the ruins of a mysterious alien race. But born with a quick wit and a gift for thieving, Locke Lamora has dodged both death and slavery, only to fall into the hands of an eyeless priest known as Chains — a man who is neither blind nor a priest.

A con artist of extraordinary talent, Chains passes his skills on to his carefully selected "family" of orphans — a group known as the Gentlemen Bastards. Under his tutelage, Locke grows to lead the Bastards, delightedly pulling off one outrageous confidence game after another. Soon he is infamous as the Thorn of Camorr, and no wealthy noble is safe from his sting.

Passing themselves off as petty thieves, the brilliant Locke and his tightly knit band of light-fingered brothers have fooled even the criminal underworld's most feared ruler, Capa Barsavi. But there is someone in the shadows more powerful — and more ambitious — than Locke has yet imagined.

Known as the Gray King, he is slowly killing Capa Barsavi's most trusted men — and using Locke as a pawn in his plot to take control of Camorr's underworld. With a bloody coup under way threatening to destroy everyone and everything that holds meaning in his mercenary life, Locke vows to beat the Gray King at his own brutal game — or die trying...

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (2020)

Piranesi's house is no ordinary building: its rooms are infinite, its corridors endless, its walls are lined with thousands upon thousands of statues, each one different from all the others. Within the labyrinth of halls an ocean is imprisoned; waves thunder up staircases, rooms are flooded in an instant. But Piranesi is not afraid; he understands the tides as he understands the pattern of the labyrinth itself. He lives to explore the house. 

There is one other person in the house--a man called The Other, who visits Piranesi twice a week and asks for help with research into A Great and Secret Knowledge. But as Piranesi explores, evidence emerges of another person, and a terrible truth begins to unravel, revealing a world beyond the one Piranesi has always known.

The Broken Earth Trilogy by N. K. Jemisin (2015-2017)

This is the way the world ends. . .for the last time.

It starts with the great red rift across the heart of the world's sole continent, spewing ash that blots out the sun. It starts with death, with a murdered son and a missing daughter. It starts with betrayal, and long dormant wounds rising up to fester. 

This is the Stillness, a land long familiar with catastrophe, where the power of the earth is wielded as a weapon. And where there is no mercy.

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness (2011)

Conor has the same dream every night, ever since his mother first fell ill, ever since she started the treatments that don't quite seem to be working. But tonight is different. Tonight, when he wakes, there's a visitor at his window. It's ancient, elemental, a force of nature. And it wants the most dangerous thing of all from Conor. It wants the truth.

Patrick Ness takes the final idea of the late, award-winning writer Siobhan Dowd and weaves an extraordinary and heartbreaking tale of mischief, healing and above all, the courage it takes to survive.

The Sandman by Neil Gaiman (1990-2003)

In PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, an occultist attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. After his 70 year imprisonment and eventual escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On his arduous journey Morpheus encounters Lucifer, John Constantine, and an all-powerful madman.

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang (2018-2020)

When Rin aced the Keju—the Empire-wide test to find the most talented youth to learn at the Academies—it was a shock to everyone: to the test officials, who couldn’t believe a war orphan from Rooster Province could pass without cheating; to Rin’s guardians, who believed they’d finally be able to marry her off and further their criminal enterprise; and to Rin herself, who realized she was finally free of the servitude and despair that had made up her daily existence. That she got into Sinegard—the most elite military school in Nikan—was even more surprising.

But surprises aren’t always good.

Because being a dark-skinned peasant girl from the south is not an easy thing at Sinegard. Targeted from the outset by rival classmates for her color, poverty, and gender, Rin discovers she possesses a lethal, unearthly power—an aptitude for the nearly-mythical art of shamanism. Exploring the depths of her gift with the help of a seemingly insane teacher and psychoactive substances, Rin learns that gods long thought dead are very much alive—and that mastering control over those powers could mean more than just surviving school.

For while the Nikara Empire is at peace, the Federation of Mugen still lurks across a narrow sea. The militarily advanced Federation occupied Nikan for decades after the First Poppy War, and only barely lost the continent in the Second. And while most of the people are complacent to go about their lives, a few are aware that a Third Poppy War is just a spark away . . .

Rin’s shamanic powers may be the only way to save her people. But as she finds out more about the god that has chosen her, the vengeful Phoenix, she fears that winning the war may cost her humanity . . . and that it may already be too late.

Villains by V. E. Schwab (2013-present)

Victor and Eli started out as college roommates—brilliant, arrogant, lonely boys who recognized the same sharpness and ambition in each other. In their senior year, a shared research interest in adrenaline, near-death experiences, and seemingly supernatural events reveals an intriguing possibility: that under the right conditions, someone could develop extraordinary abilities. But when their thesis moves from the academic to the experimental, things go horribly wrong.

Ten years later, Victor breaks out of prison, determined to catch up to his old friend (now foe), aided by a young girl whose reserved nature obscures a stunning ability. Meanwhile, Eli is on a mission to eradicate every other super-powered person that he can find—aside from his sidekick, an enigmatic woman with an unbreakable will. Armed with terrible power on both sides, driven by the memory of betrayal and loss, the archnemeses have set a course for revenge—but who will be left alive at the end?

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (2015)

Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life.

Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood.

The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her.

But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.

Legacy of Orisha by Tomi Adeyemi (2018-2024)

They killed my mother. They took our magic. They tried to bury us. Now we rise. Zélie Adebola remembers when the soil of Orïsha hummed with magic. Burners ignited flames, Tiders beckoned waves, and Zélie's Reaper mother summoned forth souls. But everything changed the night magic disappeared. Under the orders of a ruthless king, maji were killed, leaving Zélie without a mother and her people without hope. Now Zélie has one chance to bring back magic and strike against the monarchy. With the help of a rogue princess, Zélie must outwit and outrun the crown prince, who is hell-bent on eradicating magic for good. Danger lurks in Orïsha, where snow leoponaires prowl and vengeful spirits wait in the waters. Yet the greatest danger may be Zélie herself as she struggles to control her powers -and her growing feelings for an enemy.

[littlemagicalstardust]

[clansunsharp]

Neremin is Clan Sunsharp's newest paragon. He worked as a bounty hunter before the clan hired him on full time, and his specialty is spell sniping. Like the rest of the paragons, there's a bit of an oddness about him. Folks who meet him feel as if they're being examined for potential weaknesses, despite his perfectly courteous behavior.

[bakaiju]

Four Fairies Abnormalities

The original's two forms (damn, what starvation does to a b****)

Two Gentlemen, both extremely suspicious.

And the Queen herself.

I think Faelantern is actually an Aberation of Meat Lantern and not Fairy Festival. That's why I didn't draw it.

[rufinator]

Jeffrey the Snail

[regency-monster-love]

Male vampire x male human | Regency era | NSFW: handjobs, frotting

TW: dubcon, biting, mild period-typical homophobia

~ 🧛‍♂️🎩 ~

One thing the vampire appreciated about men’s fashion through the centuries in which he’d lived was that men's enticing throats were nearly always covered. Women's throats were still exposed in this current time period, but women had always been less of a temptation for him anyway.

So when his human friend suddenly began unwrapping his cravat from his neck, the vampire's gaze shot to it, intrigued to see the forbidden flesh.

The man saw him staring. “I'm sorry, but we're alone, and you don't mind, do you? It's just so hot I can scarcely breathe.”

The vampire could see his friend's blood thrumming under his skin, right there at that pulse point on his throat. Hunger sprang into life within his dead body.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he murmured, and his friend gave him a grateful smile as he picked up a book to fan himself with and slumped back on the sofa.

The vampire moved to sit beside his friend, and could not stop himself, then, from reaching for his collar. “Here, you will cool further if you open your shirt,” he said as he did it for him, exposing the hair at the top of his chest, and then laid his hand flat on his breastbone, his fingertips settling into the hollow of his throat.

The man started and dropped his book, the sharp chill of the vampire's palm distracting him from the oddness of his friend touching him at all. “Hell, your hand is cold! How do you manage it in this heat?”

The vampire's lips curled in a small smile. “I've never had a problem with heat. Not in a long time, anyway. It feels pleasant, does it not?” He caressed his chilled hand over his friend's heated skin in small circles.

The strangeness and intimacy of the gesture finally hit the human, and he squirmed in his seat, unsure how to react. But it did feel pleasant. More than pleasant, if he was being honest.

A second touch of cold skin shocked a small gasp from his lips as the vampire put his other hand upon his neck. It stroked at his heated skin there, while the other ventured lower into his shirt. Both hands, though cold, felt as though they were warming him from within, touching him with such tender sensuality that a fluid heat began to swirl and twist in his gut. He squirmed against the sofa cushions again.

“You seem agitated. You're flushed,” the vampire purred.

“It's, ah, it's the heat,” the man replied, breathing harder through his parted lips.

“Is it?” the vampire mused in that same low, purring tone. He shifted, pressing his thigh against his friend’s on the sofa and leaning his head close enough to feel the human’s warm breath on his cold lips. He thought of how warm the man's blood would be on his lips and trembled in anticipation. “Is there something more I can do to ease your discomfort?”

“I—” The man snapped his mouth shut and strained against the desire that was swiftly building in the lowest depths of his belly. This was his friend, another man, not someone he could find release with.

But the vampire didn't need an answer. He knew what he wanted, and he was quite sure, now, that his friend wanted it too. Or at least, he wanted part of what he was going to do. He probably did not want to be bitten, but that was unavoidable, now.

The vampire kept his hand on the man’s throat still, enjoying the feel of his pulse racing under his fingers, but moved his other hand to the man’s waistcoat, swiftly unfastening it and pushing it from his shoulders. “This will cool you,” he said, sensing that his friend still needed some pretense to justify what they were doing together. “Take off your shirt as well.”

He did not use compulsion in his words, but the man readily obeyed without it. Oh yes, the vampire thought with a smile, he has been wanting this. He leaned in and settled a hand on the man’s bare chest, directly over his thudding heart, picturing the delicious blood pumping through it. It was a struggle not to let his fangs drop yet.

“Someone might see,” the man hissed, finally acknowledging that this was more than just getting cool.

The vampire flung a hand out toward the drawing room doors, which swung shut and latched. The man’s eyes flew wide. “What was—”

His words were choked off with a gasp as the vampire dropped his mouth to his neck and nipped at his skin, not breaking through, yet, but simply teasing himself. “Shh.” His lips ghosted over the man’s pulse as he whispered. “We can speak later. Just feel.”

And he gave him something to feel, then, by slipping his hand down to the man’s trousers and tracing the hardening shape there, then freeing it entirely to slide his fist along the hot flesh. He pumped the man’s prick in one hand and clutched the back of his neck in the other, all while kissing and sucking at the man’s tender throat, still not using his teeth.

No protests fell from the man's lips, only hoarse moans. He no longer cared that this was another man doing this to him—the pleasure was far too great. His own hands reached out blindly toward the vampire’s hips, wanting to repay the pleasure he was receiving, and soon he too had a stiff cock in his pumping hand. It was strangely cold, just like the vampire's hands, but it still felt marvelous.

The vampire swung his leg over the man to sit on his thighs. It would be a trifle to hold him in place during what came next, but it would be all the more exciting to feel the man try to buck him off with their cocks out. He pulled the man’s hand off his cock, wrapping his own hand around both of them together instead, then slapping his other hand over the man’s mouth.

The human's eyes widened in surprise.

“Don’t scream,” the vampire warned him, and struck.

He did scream as the vampire's fangs pierced him, predictably, but it was of no consequence with the hand over his mouth. His body jerked violently in shock, then his arms shoved and tore at the vampire’s chest and shoulders, but a weak human could not budge him, of course. The man bucked his hips up to try to push him off that way, but all this did was slide his cock more roughly against the vampire’s, who rocked back against it. What bliss to feel such wild thrusts paired with the pulsing of the man’s fresh blood into his mouth! He savored the way it coated his tongue in its salty iron bitterness and then slowly ran down his throat, pulling heat with it along its path.

While the vampire was enjoying his dual pleasures in a languid haze, the man remained caught in a tumult of panicked confusion. Pain burned at his neck where the vampire was still latched to his skin, yet pleasure blazed out from the same spot, racing through his blood and down to where his cock was still in the vampire’s cold grip. The vampire’s hips rolled in a steady rhythm, dragging his cold cock along the man’s hot one in a delectable friction that, combined with the fiery pain, was swiftly building into the greatest pleasure the man had ever felt.

A deep groan rumbled in his ravaged throat. His hands clutched tight to the vampire’s shoulders, but instead of trying to push him off him again, he pulled him closer against his chest, and thrust his hips up to match the rhythm of the vampire’s, both of their cocks fucking up into his fist together now. The vampire hummed at his throat, sounding pleased, and the man moved a hand to his hair to hold his head tighter to him while tilting his head back to expose more of his neck. How could he have wanted this to stop? He still had no idea what this was, precisely, but that was of no consequence any longer. All that mattered was how glorious the blazing pain-pleasure felt.

The vampire relished the man finally submitting to him, and slipped his hand off his mouth so he could better hear his rapturous moans. Their gratifying sound, combined with the warmth of the human’s blood spreading through his body, drove him on faster and faster still, their slick cocks sliding tight and hard against each other until the human was wildly panting below him.

“I'm going to—oh! Oh hell!” the man choked out before his cries turned wordless as his climax slammed into him, sending his seed shooting from his throbbing cock.

The vampire felt his friend’s release and let his go at the same moment, mingling his seed with his friend’s on their joined cocks and groaning against the man's throat as he took a final long, deep draw of blood right at his peak, his vision clouding over with a red haze of wicked pleasure.

When the haze cleared, he pulled out his fangs and drew back, running his tongue over his teeth and smiling at the sight of the dual puncture wounds he'd inflicted. Too bad those pretty little red holes would have to be covered up by the man’s cravat. But they both would know they were there, just as they would both know that they’d fucked their cocks together—two delicious little secrets for the two of them to share.

His friend was still panting hard, head thrown back, sweat covering his face and matting down the hair on his chest. The vampire drew his clean hand through it, and the human’s eyes cracked half open.

The vampire smirked at him. “I don't believe we were successful in cooling you down.”

~ 🧛‍♂️🎩 ~

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag #my writing.

[simpleman193]

A knight in shining armor, is a man who has never had his metal truly tested. 🛡⚔️

[allastoredeer]

I don't think people are over-feminizing him, I think fandom people tend to over-masculinize him honestly. Let's be real, he is canonically feminine/gender neutral in appearance and manner in the show whether people like it or not (and being/looking feminine doesn't mean he can't be a top for the people who prefer top Alastor). He's not a hunky looking guy and doesn't act like a suave masculine king, he's a bizarre twink who does wrist flicks, eats rotting carcasses off the ground, and breaks his own bones just to freak people out and I like when fanart reflects his canonical appearance/behavior

Agreed.

Alastor has masculine vibes for sure, he's got that ✨range✨ but I agree that is is typically more feminine/gender neutral overall. Honestly, I think I might actually like top Alastor if he were more feminine/gender neutral.

I've seen some Radiostatic fanart with Alastor topping while still being portrayed like his show-self, and I was so into it. There is now one ship where I can see Alastor topping, and that is with Alastor/Vox.

RadioStatic does it again!

And you're so very right, Anon. Being feminine/gender neutral doesn't mean he still can't be a top for those who prefer top Alastor. He can be a Dom. He can rail Lucifer within an inch of his life. Not every top has to be a big, muscley, manly masculine alpha dude. I'm allergic to big, muscley, manly masculine alpha dudes. If they get too close I break out in hives.

BUT, I do understand that people like big, muscley, manly masculine alpha dudes who top. It wouldn't be such a popular trope otherwise. And fandom is the place for tropes and escapism and playing around with characters, and on and so forth, you know the spiel.

Siiiigh. I just wish my boi wasn't hit so hard with the alpha man mallet. Can't you see he's I'm suffering

Alastor's such a bizzare guy. I love it when he breaks his own bones to unnerve people. I like it when people write and draw him as a little freak. I need to write and draw him as more of a little freak.

Suave, masculine gentleman Alastor is my sleep paralysis demon.

[rithalie-sideblog]

I want Mizu’s father to be a complicated character.

I’m a sucker for reformed fathers and while I don’t think it will happen, I want Mizu’s father to be VERY morally grey. Give me a man who doesn’t believe in fairness or goodness anymore. Give me a man who had been through so goddamn much he can’t even see the kindness for what it is. A man who sells souls and bargains with demons and kills people with equal amount of interest. A man who doesn’t believe himself to be a god or melomaniac but simply a practical man who knows what he is and what he is not.

A man who knows he’s not good, and doesn’t dare to think he is, a man who has been broken once and put himself back together out of sheer force of will.

Man who, at his heart, still remains humble street rat.

Man who is friends with horrible people because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves better ones. A pact brother to Fowler, who he matches in strength and brutality but not exactly in tastes or debauchery.

Give me a man who once had a goal, he reached it or failed it and now has to keep going, because he made a lot of people dependable on him. A man who keeps his people fed and safe but doesn’t tolerate the littlest bit of resistance or disloyalty because he fell for that once before and he’s still hurt. (Sounds familiar?)

Give us man who maybe had a son or two already but secretly wants a child that he could protect and maybe save and who deep deep down dreams of having a daughter he could spoil rotten. His little princess.

And then he meets Mizu’s mother and he either falls in love or he doesn’t but he suddenly has a goal again and he would be damned if he loses it. And he does lose it, either by having his daughter stolen from him and killing everyone responsible for it, or by thinking both his daughter and his woman were murdered.

Let us see his breaking point, him losing himself in cruelty once again, because he had just what he wanted in the palm of his hand and he threw it all away for a business trip or a seemingly important deal back in London, which turns out to be his biggest mistake.

And then give us a man who sees his daughter again but she’s not his little princess anymore. She never was.

Give us a man who is furious at what this world shaped his daughter to be. Who sees himself in her and he’s seething because he very much wanted her to be the opposite. To be happy and spoiled and loved. And Mizu is not.

She is ruthless, she is vary and she rarely sees kindness for what it is, especially in a foreign land. And she doesn’t trust him, even as he offers help in killing men that Fowler made her hate with his meddling. Men she suspects are either her father or the devil he works with.

Give me man trying desperately to make connection. Even as he bends the rules for her and breaks his own promises and lets himself care again.

And if it all fails and if she discovers he’s her father, he still tries to find a way to keep her. To protect her, shield her. Even if it’s by blackmail, even if he holds her friend’s lives in the palm of his hand as he offers her all the power he has. Even as she hates him with that reckless abandon we all know her to possess.

Give us a man who made a clan out of outlaws and makes Mizu his heir and their princess, as she screams and kicks and tries to get out of this position.

[jtl-fics]

Unused Memes for Part 25 of FF