#sleep of reason produces monsters

[ehj3]

AMBIGUITY

“Fantasy abandoned by reason produces monsters” —Francisco Goya This Is not an editorial cartoon. OK, it’s in a cartoon format/style and the content is “editorial,” i.e. of current [political, cultural, and/or economic] events. But it lacks both the here-today-gone-tomorrow and the serio-comic “gag” (pun intended) qualities the genre requires. Also, were it an editorial cartoon I’d be required…

[bobbole]

Sandman in the Sleep of Reason (tribute to Goya)

art by David Hitchcock

Francisco Goya, El sueño de la razón produce monstruos

[viciouslyfilthy]

@dragonskxn from here. ♈

Frollo was not in a position where his thoughts were clear at the moment. The old minister-turned-beast only cared to satisfy his primal urges to hunt. This was meant to be the reason to exit his den; this was the sole meaning behing allowing his humiliating, disgraceful existence to be percieved by the outside world. By God.

That is, until he spotted her. Suddenly, all he could think about were those unnaturally blue but soft-looking locks of hair that hid her back almost entirely.

He couldn't help himself, his hunger shoved aside along with his internal guilt as lust ruled over his actions. He admired the figure gingerly kneeling down to pluck something off the snowy ground.

For a moment, his mind unconciously went back to Esmeralda; that soft, beautiful mane...

He watched intently like a cat preying upon a mouse. His grip tightened around a tree branch until it snapped.

Merdé.

He quickly backed up behind a few trees far away from where he first observed the strange woman.

As he hid, he thought to himself for a moment: 'what am I doing? This is not the reason of my trip outside!' He thought, his expression becoming sour, bothered by the fact that he couldn't keep his lust away even when searching for food. Damn it all. He was sinning daily, there was no denying it. He was doomed, he just didn't want to think of it. He couldn't.

And just like that, Frollo's internal turmoil temporarily disappeared; perhaps due to a lack of care for what sins he committed in the eyes of God in a moment of emotional exhaustion, perhaps his bestial instinct got the better at ruling his mind, or maybe both- but one thing was for sure: the reason he had exited his home had just changed.

He looked back to the direction where he first spotted the woman, the beast's mouth practically begun to salivate.

[ourladyofthebrokenspine]

The sleep of reason produces monsters Francisco Goya, 1799

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 2

(Unicorn Centaur Riddle wearing his dorm clothes. His hooves are golden as well, but he often wears red covers over them to prevent dirt buildup since it is harder for him to clean out his hooves and he refuses to ask Trey for help most times)

Warnings; Several yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, yandere behavior, monster au, fem reader, very few know reader is fem so mostly they/them pronouns used, deranged behavior, centaurs, unicorns, Nemean lions, Vampire Bats, selkies, minotaurs, genies, nagas, magic, talk of eating humans, arguing, mention of virginity, slight Monster AU history mentioned,

~~~~~~~~

The thorn prince arrived to a scene of chaos as he exited the portal from Diasomnia. Many new students were lost and confused as they had been told to stay put while most of the Housewardens searched the halls, some Vice-Housewardens were desperately trying to keep the peace or even join the search at the behest of the Headmage. He certainly wasn't concerned about what they may be searching for, instead he started heading towards his own Vice-Housewarden with a slight spring in his step, joyful at finding such an odd little creature in Diasomnia.

"Lilia."

The casual summons had the Bat Fae Vice-Housewarden turning to look at the newcomer who had not been expected to make an appearance after receiving no invitation. Naturally, Lilia was surprised that the dour Dragon chose to go against his own code of conduct and arrive at a ceremony he had no true part in. His stern expression did not seem so serious, making Lilia wonder just what had happened to bring Malleus of all students to his side.

"Malleus? I didn't expect to see you here without invitation."

"Yes, well," the prince pouted in response to the reminder, "I have plenty good reason to seek you out despite the lack of invitation."

"Oh? Do tell. You aren't often so brazen about casually entering the company of others."

"The Gargoyles have borne a child of flesh and not stone."

"... What?"

"I found the soft being sleeping beneath the Human-Gargoyle that was made 1010 years ago. They look much like the Gargoyle and don't seem to be of any other Twisted Wonderland species. As they seemed so fragile and their stone parents weren't keen to protect them, I took them to my nest. Of course, it is odd the Gargoyle child was clothed so shortly after being birthed, but removing their shoes to lay them to rest was of no trouble to me."

The conversation had drawn the attention of both the frazzled and the curious who were also equally shocked to see Malleus in the flesh. Of course, it didn't take long for the Crow Headmage to intervene, figuring what had happened rather quickly. Before the Headmage could speak, however, Lilia beat him to the punch with a much more patient tone and approach.

"Malleus, after centuries of studying Gargoyles, what do you know is true about all Gargoyles?"

"They are stone of various kinds. They double as spouts to keep water from gathering on roofs. They are often depictions of animals, creatures, and other beings."

"How often have you encountered a Gargoyle that has produced an infant?"

"... It is possible."

"How often have you encountered a Gargoyle that has produced an infant of flesh and blood?"

"..."

Lilia would have laughed in a good humored way if he were not being watched by all of the new students and their seniors who had come to aid them in settling in. It was not Malleus' fault that he came to the conclusion that the Gargoyles had produced offspring, the truth was just as far fetched.

What was interesting Lilia more than the topic at hand was the fact Malleus had taken the wayward Human into his nest. Dragons were rarely keen to share things like their nests or their Hoard with others, especially those they know little about. The simple fact that Malleus took the Human into his nest was enough to show that the dragon had already taken a unique interest and intended to make the Human a member of his living Hoard. Malleus may not often take new creatures or items for his Hoard, but the few he claimed had little room to argue as the Dragon was fiercely protective of those he viewed as his.

"What you found, Malleus, is an actual Human. Ironic they took shelter beneath a Human Gargoyle, but they had fled from here perhaps an hour before you arrived. They must have decided to use one of the portals to flee and wound up in Diasomnia instead where you found them. Don't worry, I can get them from your nest so they don't-"

"You will not be taking the Human from my nest, Lilia."

"Oh? Keeheehee~ Have you taken a liking to them, Malleus? Humans are very fragile, you know."

"They may not be the child of a Gargoyle, like I thought them to be, but that does not change the fact that they are in my nest, and under my protection."

It was then a sneering scoff came from the crowd, the new students quickly parting to let the intimidating Nemean Lion strut forward with his tail flicking in annoyance. The man himself had beautiful sun-kissed bronze skin that held the faintest golden glimmer, his shining eyes of acidic green glinted with pride and frustration. Even with his rich dark mahogany colored hair, he gave off a beautiful shine that made him look like he was sculpted out of pure gold.

"And you think you're the best choice for a Human? Human's need light, food, and water, not to be locked up in a creepy ass dungeon that doubles as a nest for an overgrown lizard. That Human is better off in Savanaclaw, not Diasomnia."

Before Malleus could respond to the clear taunt from Leona, another voice with a haughty tone cut in.

"Not even if the Seven proclaimed it, would I believe you can be gentle or safe with a Human, Leona. Nemean Lions were the last holdout group that insisted on eating Humans before they were officially declared extinct."

Approaching with far more grace than he should have was the Housewarden of Pomefiore, the Peacock Harpy Vil. He was clearly posturing as his seven head feathers sat straight up in a clear showing of his crest. Even his tail feathers were slightly fanned out as they caught the light and gave an iridescent display of colors.

"Oh? And what the Hell would you do to protect them, Vil? Doll the Human up in fancy ass clothes and make them preen like a prissy little Harpy?"

"Do speak up, Leona. I could barely hear you over your prideful bitching. Or do you want another scar to even out that scowling expression of yours? Maybe I'll take your eye this time."

This made a snarl escape the golden Lion, his tail lashing violently back and forth in response to the clear threat from the Harpy. Luckily the Headmage had called the other Housewardens to return as well as requesting the teachers to assist in the unusual situation. All he had to do was step between the Lion and Harpy in an effort to keep them from attacking one another until the others showed up.

"I will decide where the Human shall stay and who is safe enough to leave around the Human. They are an extremely rare creature and cannot be treated so callously. You both are Housewardens, please act with the proper decorum."

It was then the clear clopping of hooves on the marble floor could be heard, the others quickly returning to the Hall of Mirrors thanks to Crowley's summons.

"I demand to know the location of the Human! The Queen's rules insist that Humans must be protected and cared for properly, and I refuse to allow the mistreatment of one of the Queen's most protected species!"

Each syllable was accompanied by the distinct click of his golden hooves against the stone floors as Riddle came to a slow halt in front of the Headmage. Naturally, the Unicorn Centaur was the first to know any obscure information due to his inherent hunger for knowledge and desire to follow rules. If anyone knew of rules regarding Humans, especially any rules made in by the Queen of Hearts, Riddle would be the one to know them all.

"Riddle, I assure you that the Human will be properly cared for-"

"Have you already provided them with adequate snacks that don't have pig-fat in them? The Queen's rule 898 states that all Humans must be denied pig heavy meals as they are genetically close enough to pigs that it can cause stomach troubles but must be able to access food consistently due to their digestion processes. Queen's rule 899 states that Humans need to be kept in optimal temperatures that should not exceed the boiling point of water and should not be less than the freezing point of water. Not to mention rule 900 that talks about the proper protocol for finding mates for a Human and their regional specific breeding patterns-"

The others couldn't help but stare at the Unicorn Housewarden who continued to prattle off the various rules regarding the treatment of Humans. He was far more sensitive to the wellbeing of the Human as Unicorns were historically rather fond of Humans- female maidens especially- and were the first to oppose the idea of Humans being cattle for other species. As a Unicorn Centaur, Riddle was far more attuned to emotions and natural law than a Harpy would be and far more aware of the fragility of mortality than a Dragon would be.

"The Human will be treated properly with adherence to the rules, Riddle. We should try and trust the Headmage to do that much."

The taller and more intimidating Centaur next to Riddle now spoke, resting a hand atop the shoulder of the temperamental Unicorn. Though he shared similar coloring on his equine half to Riddle, the second Centaur was clearly of a different breed as he was larger and more stocky than the Unicorn. His green hair was ruffled and he had clearly been out searching for the Human with Riddle before they were called back to the Headmage.

"No, Trey, he won't even follow the rules of an unbirthday party! How can I trust that he will do what is required to keep this Human safe and cared for? That virgin human must be protected at all costs!"

"How are you so sure they are a virgin?"

"I can sense their purity!"

Trey continued to try and talk down the upset Unicorn, trying to be a voice of calm and reason to his hot-headed equine companion. This left room for an interjection from yet another Housewarden returning from their search for the elusive Human of Night Raven College.

"Wow! You sure know a lot about Humans, Riddle! I wouldn't expect anything else from the Unicorn who is top in his classes!"

The newcomer's approach came with a golden light that shined from somewhere within his very being. His white hair was a stark contrast to his richly toned skin and crimson eyes, the ever present smile on his face just as dazzling as the gold and jewels that hung from his figure. To his side was his ever consistent Naga companion, the blacks and reds of his scales almost bleeding together in the golden light. The faint flick of golden scales caught in the light of the Genie added to the unusual mystique of the Sand Viper Naga that followed dutifully behind his Housewarden.

"You would know these things too if you payed any attention in class, Kalim!"

"Ouch, a bit harsh, Riddle? I can't help that Trein is so boring sometimes that I fall right asleep! If I knew we were getting a Human classmate, I would have paid more attention."

It was then the Naga spoke up, his voice smooth like honey and just as rich despite the gentle way he spoke. His dark hair was neatly pulled back in intricate braids that ended with a golden trinket and kept most of the dark locks from obstructing his gaze.

"Kalim, even if we didn't get a Human classmate, you should still pay attention in class."

"I guess you're right, Jamil. But still, isn't a Human being here exciting?"

"Yes, well, it is certainly unusual..."

"I could keep them safe in my lamp and that way no one has to worry if they are in trouble or not because no one can enter my lamp without my permission anyway!"

"I don't think you could be trusted with a Human like that..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. In any case, the Human's wellbeing should be top priority given how rare they are. Most Housewardens should be able to protect the Human as needed, but that isn't even mentioning the danger a Housewarden could represent to the Human."

As the conversation carried on and the other Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens returned from their search, the older crow Fae couldn't be more pleased. Taking on a Human would be quite a bit of work for anyone, but it seemed rather clear that the Housewardens were keen to do what was needed for the Human to stay. Not to mention the fact that the heir-apparent of Briar Valley- The Prince of Thorns, Malleus Draconia- had already claimed the Human as one of his protected treasures. There wasn't much protection better than that.

Still, perhaps it would be best to not leave a fragile Human in the nest of an overly protective Dragon.

~•§•~

You woke slowly to the sounds of voices around you, feeling a soft surface beneath your head and a warm blanket wrapped around your figure. It certainly wasn't where you had fallen asleep- as you had been huddled beneath a hideous Gargoyle when sleep finally claimed you- but you weren't really complaining about the plush surface either. If anything, the voices around you that were clearly arguing were causing you more stress than the new location you found yourself in.

"The Child of Man is mine to protect! I will not allow any of you to take them from my nest."

"Malleus, please, we all know the Human needs somewhere other than your nest to live. They need their own space and their own home to feel comfortable and not die from stress."

"They are protected here and have their own space here in Diasomnia."

"Malleus-"

Your increased movements made the arguing quiet down as you sat up, letting out a squeaking sound when you stretched. It was likely the ever present haze of sleep over your mind that kept you so calm despite the unfamiliar surroundings. That calm feeling didn't last long as you received a harsh reminder that you were the only Human present. Standing in front of you was a fair-skinned man with dark black hair and monstrous features. His black wings folded slightly as he turned to look at you, bright green eyes examining you quickly for any sign of distress. Atop his head sat two twisting black horns that formed a kind of crown for the regal scaled man standing in front of you.

Past the intimidating man's shoulder you saw the familiar Crow-like man flanked on either side by equally monstrous appearing men.

One of the men had clear black and white hair that copied or complimented the black and white coat hanging from his shoulders. His steel gray eyes seeming so cold until they softened slightly, gazing at you the way one would gaze at a prized pet. This man seemed more Human than any of the others you met prior, giving you a small bit of hope that you weren't alone in your plight. Still, there was the high chance that this man was some kind of monster too and just didn't look it at first glance like the others.

On the other side of the Crow stood a man that reminded you of a Bull with long horns that would have knocked into the head of the Crow-man if the Bull were any shorter. The man had deep brown hair and bright blue eyes, his muscular build clear even beneath the red sweat-suit he wore. Despite his Human-like face, he was obviously not Human thanks to the clear horns and Bull tail waving lazily behind him.

It appeared- from first glance- that the reptilian man was guarding you from the others rather aggressively and was not keen to let you go with the Crow and his companions. Part of you was glad to feel such comfort, but you also had to wonder just what it was the reptilian man ultimately wanted from you. While you mused this, another voice from behind you startled you into almost jumping from the bed, looking back in surprise at the source of the voice.

You saw what looked like a young man with black and pink hair sitting on the bed near where you had been laying. He had apparent fangs that peaked past his upper lip and two leathery batwings that had clearly endured some damage throughout the years. Sitting square in the center of his face was a little fleshy heart-nose like some kind of Bat. This man had been present when you fell from the coffin not too long ago, so it confused you that he chose to speak to you now.

"It seems you're finally awake, little Human. Maybe you can help us with our current predicament? You are a rare species that has been believed to be extinct for more than a few centuries now. As one of the top Magic schools in all of Twisted Wonderland, it is the school's job to protect you and keep you safe from those who would wish to see Humans extinct once more. Malleus here found you sleeping under the Gargoyles and has decided to claim you- for better or worse- as one of the creatures he needs to protect. That brings us here, to Malleus' nest. They," he gestured to the Crow and his companions, "believe you would be better off with one of the professors guarding and protecting you from the common rabble. Malleus," he gestured now to the reptile man, "is of the mind that you are most protected here in his nest."

You were surprised and confused by the Bat-man telling you all of this as the Crow had given you the impression that your opinion and wants did not matter in the situation you found yourself in. As far as you were aware, the Crow intended to keep you as a pet, but this Malleus person had the same idea and didn't want to share you with the Crow.

"... Why are you in his nest too?"

"Oh, becuase Malleus likes to protect those he cares about. He is a Dragon, after all, and those he cares about are counted among his Hoard. I have been his teacher for many centuries now, so naturally I am one of his Hoard members. Only those who are part of his Hoard or Malleus himself is allowed to enter his nest without being burned alive. That means you too now, congratulations."

You now glanced back at the reptilian man, seeing the way he stood with his back to you and wings spread in a shielding action. It made sense that this man was a Dragon given his features and attributes. Despite now knowing a Dragon was guarding you, you still had no idea why these people were so desperate to get their hands on you. Even if they were right and Humans were extinct, that didn't mean it made much sense to you for them to try and keep you as a pet like this.

"So, sweet little Human, what would you like?"

"I would like people to say my name and not call me Human."

"My apologies, it has been a hectic day thus far. What is your name?"

"It's (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)."

"(Y/n) (L/n)... The last Human in Twisted Wonderland."

[doctorsiren]

Day 25 of Sirentober / Doctober

Muse / Oracle

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

Available as a print on my Etsy Shop

[batcocoon]

I was assigned to @yeehawgeek for the @tma-art-exchange!!! they didn’t have any stated preference but I figured everyone loves paranoid jon so I drew him (based off of francisco goya’s “the sleep of reason produces monsters”) This was my first time drawing anything tma in such a long time but I think I like it…

[mutsu705]

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

[ave-atqve-vale]

Francisco de Goya, El sueño de la razón produce monstruos (The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters), 1799.

[aemsgirl]

A Gentle Woman For a Gentle Man.

Ettore x Reader.

Warnings: ettore is already a complete warning, smut, mention of abuse and violence, breath control, facesitting.

oneshot.

The walls bleed blue, like the sorrow of pills, like the void of the loneliest hearts. The expanse, vast as the ocean or the sky, stretches into infinity. Here, on this ship, blue colors the sleepless nights. Even with those pills that dissolve beneath your tongue, your thoughts drift to the inescapable reality: you're trapped in a floating prison, with no freedom to depart at will.

Blue seeps into your skin when the silence of the ship descends. Blue stains the gloves of Dibs' whore as she violates your flesh. Blue, it recalls the sweets of childhood, when tongues turned blue, before life became this endless wave of despair. Blue, it paints his eyes, the most haunting, lifeless gaze you've ever witnessed.

You learned not to judge from the moment you peered into the mirror and beheld a creature of many layers, a monster in your own eyes. Here, in this floating prison, each soul is stained with guilt, perhaps deserving every torment, every fry of the brain. You pondered if this ordeal might mend you, ignite some dormant part, and finally dispel the apathy as your body gasped for its last breath. It was merely a fleeting thought, drifting through your mind much like you drift now, only to be swallowed by a black hole, where, with grim irony, your fates converge.

There was one, in particular, whose gaze trailed you like that of a shark. His eyes were like those of the sea's monarchs, great predators who never close their eyes, even in sleep they glide through the waters, for to stop is to invite death. Ettore echoed the sharks you encountered at the aquarium with your father on that sweltering summer day, blue candy clinging to your tongue, refusing to let go despite the sugar's overwhelming sweetness, threatening to overwhelm you. And you did succumb, didn't you? You shut down, disconnecting from the world as you often did.

It didn't take long to decipher his true nature, despite the confidentiality shrouding his files. His crimes were a secret, but you weren't naive. The way his pupils widened when you wore tank tops for the exercises Dibs made mandatory, the slight furrow of his brows as sweat glistened on your bodies, hair clinging to your skin. You noticed his eyes roaming over each woman on the ship, without a hint of subtlety. His lips would glisten with spit, the lines on his forehead would tighten, his hands would clench into fists, restraining himself from unleashing. You saw the beast within him, lurking beneath the geometric shadows of his tattoos.

He noticed you too, but for different reasons. The girls like to taunt him, don't they? Tempting him, almost coaxing him to lose control before reminding him how much of a freak he is. It's their way to pass the time, knowing their options are limited. But you? What was your angle? Staring back at him like he was your plaything, not the other way around. He saw how often you used the box, perhaps even more than him. And those little smiles when you crossed paths—what was that about? They make him want to smash your head against the ship's metal walls, to crack open that pretty skull and see what madness lies within.

Of course, you should've known better than to provoke him, but he had something you craved. When you were condemned for killed your father, gouge out his eyes, and dismember him into tiny pieces, stuffing him into garbage bags to abandon on some desolate road, you knew you were headed for the electric chair or a lethal injection. And with that? With that shit, you felt alive, which is the cruelest irony. Brains that don't produce healthy cells have this, they say—a chemical imbalance. The same thing that sends you into blackouts, and when you wake up, you're soaked in your mistakes. Your body, it seeks more of every sensation, where a taste isn't just a taste but a form of life, of absolute nothingness. You don't know how to like something; no, you become it.

And so, your dreams became haunted by his eyes once you understood what he truly was. It should have repelled you, turned your stomach, and in part it did, but the larger part, the louder part, whispered otherwise. With the lights on at night, you drifted into sleep, sore and still bleeding from the cold instruments Dibs had used on you. In your dreams, you found yourself with that blue candy between your lips, sliding down your tongue as you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, it was Ettore's cock that was now sliding down your tongue, entering your throat, ravaging it with all he had. You saw his neck arching back, the triangle of his tattoo moving with his skin, and you sucked him hard, rolling your tongue until his silence broke, the shadow of a man turning into a cacophony of moans. Until finally, the salty taste of his cum hits your throat, mingling with blood and the sweetness that somehow lingered.

Waking up, you found yourself panting, the sensation lingering in the back of your throat. The silence here always feels so fragile at this moment, the nights far from peaceful, you know they are. Still disoriented from the drugs coursing through you, your feet met the cold metal of the ship, and feeling the pulse of your own body, you knew sleep would offer no respite. For that very reason, you rose and stumbled to the box, your nightly ritual now.

You didn't know how much time had passed, not until you finally reached your release, perhaps after the fourth time with your own fingers. Your hair clung to your face, and your legs felt like they might buckle at any moment. Pressing the button, the door opened, and after those orgasms, you had to lean against the doorframe to keep from collapsing, eyes closed. And you felt it, the eyes on you. When you opened your eyes, there he was, in nothing but loose boxers, his fingers hooked into the waistband, his gaze fixed on you as if you were the first woman he'd ever laid eyes on. You watched him take steps toward you, but you didn't move, standing still as he slowly closed the distance until he was less than a step away from your body.

"Excuse me." Ettore murmured, his voice rough, throat dry from the prolonged silence. And you realized, maybe this was one of the first times you'd even heard him speak.

"Why should I?" Your response was swift and sharp, though you couldn't mask the fatigue in your voice after your self-indulgence.

Ettore's eyes narrowed at you, your gazes locking. Both your pupils and his were dilated, staring each other down. You noticed his breathing grow heavier; it felt like you were challenging him. Eye to eye, it was like a shark confronting an orca, and when could that ever end well? Never. He took a step forward as if he was about to pounce, but your hand rose, and your index finger pressed against the bridge of his nose. You ensured it was the very finger that had been buried deep inside you moments ago. Ettore froze as you traced down his nose with gentle pressure, and taking a deep breath, he caught the scent of your release. It was like casting blood into the ocean.

He placed both hands on either side of the doorframe, bracing himself and effectively trapping you. His eyes closed as he inhaled even deeper. A small, predatory smile curled his lips, contrasting with the cold air touching his skin. Your finger lingered in front of his face, and you saw him tilt his head forward, seeking to inhale your scent more profoundly. His cock, hard from the moment he entered, twitched in his boxers, brushing against your belly due to the close proximity. Glancing down, you saw it throbbing beneath the fabric as if it were being caressed. Your eyes returned to his face, seeing his lips parted in what looked like a silent moan; it had been so long since he'd been this close to a pussy, the mere scent was enough to strip him of all reason. His grip on the doorframe tightened, his hot breath fanning your face.

"Give me what I want," you whispered, retracing the path up his nose, "and I'll give you what you like." A promise, a pact, something tangible in this cold, wretched ship if he could just resist the urge to tear you apart right then and there.

His head tilts back slightly, and his hips push forward, attempting to press more firmly against your stomach, but you pull back just enough to deny him the pressure. Even then, you notice when his breathing completely loses its composure, especially when you move closer, and in a deliberate, almost playful act, blow hot air from your lips onto the side of his neck. As if that were the final straw, the tip of his cock, resting against your stomach, becomes soaked, and when you look down, you witness his release starting to seep through his boxers, almost breaking through the fabric. Your already exhausted walls, as if they hadn't had enough, have the audacity to start pulsing, watching him cum all over without you even touching him.

"Is something going on here?" Monte's recognizable voice shatters the spell, his presence right behind you. Looking over Ettore's shoulder, you see him observing both of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Your eyes return to Ettore, and he meets your gaze, his cheeks flushed, lips still slightly parted. Your hand falls to your side, and his hands slowly release the doorframe; now, it isn't just your knees that feel like they might buckle. From the look in his eyes, if Monte hadn't arrived, you would have been in serious trouble. And in a twisted way, you almost wish he hadn't shown up. Passing by Ettore, you offer him a brief smile before your steps take on a carefree quality, while he visibly trembles from head to toe. He wants to sink his teeth into your throat, slit it with his bare teeth, and fuck that hole, just to teach you not to be such a filthy cock tease.

"No." Your voice slices through the air as you stop beside Monte, not missing the chance to glance back at Ettore, who doesn't even turn around. "Nothing happening."

With those words, you made your way back through the ship, your steps silent until you threw yourself onto your bed. They're always watching him, aren't they? Maybe waiting for him to unleash the beast within, and well, he will. Eventually, he will. And you'll be there to suck up every last drop if he even lets you live to share the tale afterward. That night, you didn't sleep, your eyes fixed on the entrance to the bunker, waiting under the blue lights for those predatory eyes to appear, but they never did. And you were left pulsing with need until the next morning.

What was already a silence became even more profound in the days that followed, and the eyes that had already consumed you before now seemed to gnaw at you with all their might. He was everywhere yet nowhere at the same time. He appeared to be biding his time, calculating. It was a stark contrast to the impulsiveness you thought he possessed, but no, it seemed like he was intent on unsettling you. You were no longer sleeping, and not even the drugs Dibs gave you could coax you into slumber. Your pupils were tightly constricted, always fixed on the hallway at night, expecting him to come for you at any moment.

Life and the artificial air continued to fill your lungs. Today, you spent the day with Dibs. She doesn't let go of her obsession, clinging to the bone even though she knows damn well that this baby thing won't happen. Not even the fucking lives already formed could survive this hell, who does she think is going to be born here? It was a total farce. Sometimes, it seemed like just an excuse to tear you apart from the inside, she must get some twisted pleasure from it, that bitch of a doctor. You're sure she's the type who'd suck off semen samples; she looks like she would.

Being the last to leave her room, you were practically dragging yourself through the ship. Your limbs were heavy, pain radiating throughout your body, your groin nearly purple from being spread on that stretcher for so long, and the sleepless nights only adding to the weight. You were still bleeding and needed a shower, and that's exactly what you went for. At that moment, you could at least have a decent fucking shower. Discarding the orange uniform, you turned the shower knob and felt the hot water cascade over your body.

From head to toe, it felt like standing under a waterfall if you closed your eyes and had a good imagination. Scrubbing every inch with that neutral soap, it felt like you were cleansing your very soul. A freshness, even as your skin started to redden from the high water temperature. Closing your eyes, you rested one hand on the wall, tilting your head back to let the water hit your face directly, and it was only then that your breath was cut off by a hand covering your mouth and nose, the heat on your back not from the water alone.

"One sound and I'll snap your pretty neck in two." Your breathing quickened even further as you recognized the voice whispering in your ear. He might not speak much, but when he does, he's unforgettable, isn't he?

It felt like your entire body had been cast into the fucking flames, ignited. There was that sweetness again, the sensation of losing control of your body while every nerve was vibrantly alive. His free arm wrapped completely around you, pressing your back against what seemed to be his bare chest, and you could feel his erection against your lower back, still concealed. If he hadn't been muffling your mouth with his palm, he would have seen the smile that crept onto your lips. But just as quickly, you snapped your head back, hitting his face with a force that seemed to split your own skull. His hands left you as he staggered backward, and you turned swiftly, advancing to land another punch while he was still reeling from the headbutt. As expected, his body fell to the ground, and this was your fucking chance. Straddling him directly over his face, you made sure to press each of your knees onto his hands, making him grunt in pain.

"A gentle woman for a gentle man." Your voice was almost spat out as you looked down at him. That feeling surged up your thighs. Alive.

His nose was bleeding, his eyes dark. He didn't care about the pain for long, not when your pussy was so close to his face. Shoving your hands into his hair, you gripped tightly, putting your full weight on his face and feeling his tongue dart out almost immediately to start licking you thoroughly, every little inch, from your entrance to your clit to your lips. A wide smile spread across your lips, a loud sound escaping them as your head threw back. Your hips began to move violently against his face, not satisfied with just his mouth. You slid your arousal down his nose, down his chin, circling your hips until you even let it drip down his cheeks. His movements grew even more frantic beneath you, his head moving from side to side, trying to keep up with the rhythm you set.

"Oh, fuck!" you found yourself almost screaming, feeling his tongue delve into you, rolling and searching, swallowing what dripped from you. "Don't stop, don't stop..." the words tumbled out of your lips, over and over.

Looking down, you saw his face completely red, the blood running down his chin mingling with your taste, his eyebrows furrowed in ecstasy. His hands started to struggle to free themselves from under your knees, probably because he was running out of air. This was quite evident in how his legs also began to thrash beneath you. This only spurred your movements as you rode his face with even greater fervor, rolling your hips and letting moans escape your lips, fingers tangled in his hair, not allowing him to escape a single inch of your skin. And it's not like his tongue had stopped; in fact, it seemed to work even harder, and when his teeth grazed your flesh, your eyes finally rolled back. The strength drained from your body as your climax hit you like a powerful wave, your hands bracing on the floor to keep your torso upright.

Without giving you time to really recover, Ettore spun you around, your back slamming against the cold floor. His hand found your face, his closed fist connecting with it and sending you sprawling to the side, legs still trembling from the orgasm that had just consumed you. Turning you head to look at him, a smile appeared on your lips, your teeth marked with the blood that had just come out, and it seemed almost too much for him. Shoving down his orange pants and underwear, Ettore freed his cock, swollen and soaked, looking like it was ready to climax right there. Pulling your thighs apart with both hands, he dragged you closer and aligned himself with your entrance.

"Scream and I'll break your jaw." The warning was clear in his tone. Well, you were probably already loud enough, and if someone came to check on you, they wouldn't even ask questions seeing him on top of you.

Without waiting for answers, he slammed his hips against yours, thrusting all at once to the hilt. Your insides throbbed, trying to expel him, along with the sharp pain in your already sensitized flesh. Your lips even parted to let out a sound, which was quickly cut off by a strong slap to your face. Your eyes watered, your insides tightening around him even more, making him pause to savor how you were gripping him.

"Filthy whore, making a mess of my cock." His voice was thick with barely contained pleasure, the words followed by a firm thrust that made both of you squirm.

One of his hands rested on the side of your cheek, forcing the other side to the floor, and for a second, you thought your face might split. The other hand moved up to your stomach, applying pressure as he started thrusting with all his might, feeling himself hitting the deepest part of you. Your sounds were muffled by his hand pressing against your face, your hands trying to dig into the bathroom floor, nails breaking to keep yourself steady. Your whole body moved with each violent thrust, the low sounds of your moans filling the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. His hand circled your jaw to make you face him before his fist slammed into your face once more, sending sharp pain through you and your body arching off the ground.

Your head turned to face him, the almost evil smile on your lips and his pupils dilating even more with the blood pooling in your mouth. His lips parted completely, his cock inside you twitching at the sight. Gathering the blood, you spat in his direction, watching the liquid mix with his on his cheek. The smile that now appeared on his own lips almost made you cum right there, at that exact moment. Leaning into you and without lessening the impact of his thrusts, he rested both elbows on either side of your head, feeling your breasts bounce as they were pressed against his chest.

"I'm starting to like you," Ettore murmurs, his voice broken by the uneven breathing and the sounds of pleasure he's holding back.

"Say that again and I'll rip your throat open," you reply, turning your face to meet his gaze.

Staring into each other's eyes, both of your smiles are wide, both bloody with the mess that are your faces. You feel the thrusts becoming more erratic, and as you slide your noses together, your lips meet in a messy kiss, neither of you really able to kiss back with the low moans escaping. You feel the tremors start more firmly in your thighs, wrapping them around his waist, trying to bring him closer if it were possible. Your eyes meet, your hands circling his arms and holding on tightly.

"I'm going to cum," Ettore murmurs, and your only response is to go back to trying to devour his lips, involving your teeth in the process.

Feeling his pace get deeper, you knew you were done. Your walls clenched together, tremors taking over your entire body, at the same time Ettore's cock twitched inside you, thrusting shallower as he released all his cum into you. Your lips parted and opened, throwing your breaths into each other's faces, the depths of his blue eyes staring at you until your body stopped twitching completely, your eyes closing with the wave of satisfaction that enveloped your body like a glove.

He breathes heavily above you, pulling away just enough to look down at you, bloody and fucking stupid, your eyes fluttering open to meet his as his thumb circles your cheek in what could have been a gentle caress, spreading the blood already there. The moment is quiet, almost too quiet, broken only by the sound of the shower still running.

"I think you're really going to have to open my throat." His words seem almost lost in your ears, as low as usual.

You were going to answer, but before you could, his fist hit your face, this time sending you into the black hole. When you woke up again, you were in your own bed, and the blue lights were there once again. You tried to get up, but moving your head hurt like hell. Looking down, you were dressed in the shorts and tank top that serve as pajamas here, and if it weren't for the pain in your core and on your face, you might have thought it was just a dream. But no, it wasn't.

Lying down again completely, you stare at the hallway. It seems empty, but it isn't. You feel it isn't, like something tangible. It's there, watching, maybe waiting. And all you do is close your eyes and drift off into the most peaceful sleep you've had since being on this ship. The blue lights no longer flood your eyelids tonight.

[muffinsin]

you know what, fuck it we ball. i gave the dani and cass monsterfucker prompts, lemme cook one up for bela real fast in your ask box while i am yet again sleep deprived.

let’s put bela with a lycan (heh). feel like we’ve seen a couple lycan requests, but i’m gonna put a breeding focus on this one. similar to cass’ i guess. sweet, darling bela is gunna have to carry a litter of lycan pups to full term, though.

she’s thinking about that and all the consequences that come with it the whole time she’s getting railed after having been pounced on, and for some reason being unwilling to push the beast off. pheromones? she’s a little loopy on them, it’s clouding her judgement. not to mention this situation, unfortunately, really turns her on, despite the fact that she’s soo anxious about the fat knot smacking against her cunt getting forced inside, and so anxious about being pumped full of so much werewolf cum that makes her look pregnant alone. starts thinking about how many pups she might be given. will it be a whole litter? how many pups come in a lycan litter? how is that going to affect her body? etc. thinks about lactation too. probably gotta produce a whole lot to feed a litter, ya know?

very big on bela mommy issues dimitrescu being a sucker for this kind of stuff deep in the back of her mind. she wants to be a breeding toy, she just doesn’t quite know it. lycan lover will help her out.

picturing them not being able to really speak while transformed. maybe a couple words here and there, but it’s difficult. they’re really mostly a monster right now. not so much of a monster that they won’t give her some sweet aftercare lovin’ while she cockwarms them due to the inflated knot being unlikely to go down for a good while, though. oh, and they’re Hung. “it won’t fit!” kind of hung, but they make it work 🥴

- 🐺

Hell yeah!🙌 My much needed reminder that I write smut? Perhaps XD At last, after months, poor Bela is getting some monsterfucking loving too, hm? XD Let’s get into it, everyone!

Masterlists

In one moment, she feels curiosity. In the next, her body tenses as a loud roar is heard echoing in the dimly lit cave. Bela bites down on her lip harshly, her bright, golden eyes scanning over the stony edges of the walls of the cave.

She feels slightly dizzy, her brain fuzzy, her limbs oddly heavy. A thick scent lingers in the air, one she feels strangely tempted to follow.

She can’t recall why she entered the cave in the first place, not usually one for such curiosity.

And yet..now she can’t seem to leave again. As if in a trance, she keeps on walking, uncaring of her heels scraping against the stone and muddy ground. She feels slightly cold, just enough for her to shiver, yet not quite enough to pose a threat.

She jumps a little when she hears a loud snarl again. What is she doing? She can’t seem to resist the scent clouding her judgement and senses.

Bela’s eyes widen slightly for a moment when- at last- she finds the source of this sound. A creature, curled up, yet monstrous in size. If it were to stand, she is sure it would be towering above her, and only stand slightly shorter than Alcina herself.

She keeps on walking, until she stands, frozen, right in front of the creature. Her eyes widen suddenly, as if only now aware of it. What is she to do?

To slay the beast? Gulping, she gazes around the cave, trying to find anything to use to her advantage. However..nothing. She scans the lycan-like monster again.

Large, muscular, with sharp teeth pointing out from its mouth. She shivers again. No, fighting the beast is not an option.

Still, as she stares the creature down..

Bela’s body tenses again, her eyes flickering over it. She sees the sharp claws, the strong torso…

Her eyes land on the large, still limp cock between the creature’s legs. Suddenly, the scent grows stronger, and without understanding why or standing any chance at resisting it, her body lurches forwards, and suddenly her face is smudged against the warm, oddly comforting thigh.

She sees the massive thing twitch, her eyes wandering over the thick knot wearily.

She can’t quite understand. All she does, is feel.

She feels her body submitting to the monster, her pussy aching and drooling, her heart yearning to be close. She doesn’t understand.

As if in a trance, her hands move across her body. She removes her cape and hood, then her dress. Left only in her underwear, stockings and heels, Bela positions herself along the creature’s large arm.

She doesn’t even notice she has begun rutting her clothed pussy against it.

Then, the creature stirs. Her eyes widen, and for a moment she seems able to rip herself away. She turns halfway to her swarm form fast, making for the way out. She recognizes it, is almost there..

Then, she shrieks, as large paw-like hands push against her back and force her to the ground, and the large creature hovers above her. She’s pinned, struggling against the dirty and wet ground.

Then, she tenses, as a long tongue drags against her neck. She shivers, her nose picking up on the creature’s scent that now sticks to her.

Another lick, and another. She feels dizzy almost, her pussy clenching and aching, yearning for the creature’s large cock. She feels shame; has she always been this easy? Surely not! Have years of neglecting her sexual side and sex with the staff turned her into this? Turned her into a slut easy enough to even get turned on by a lycan of all things?! What would Mother think!

Bela gasps when she is turned roughly, her head throbbing for a moment before she can realise what is happening. She feels and hears her clothing tear, sharp teeth and claws slashing through the skin tight dress and grazing her pale, porcelain skin slightly.

She doesn’t attempt to push the creature off, she can’t, and somehow, doesn’t want to. All she feels is its large cock, limp before and slowly hardening against her thigh. To her horror, the thing grows as it hardens, so the monstrosity turns to an even huger dick. She whimpers momentarily.

How could this fit? What’s going to happen to her? Will it breed her? Somewhere in the back of her mind she realises..summer is breeding season.

She gasps when the sandpaper-like tongue drags down her neck, leaving almost slimy saliva in its path. She shivers underneath the lycan, golden eyes taking in the monster’s form. Then, she jumps, when sharp teeth graze her hip.

Suddenly, her head is filled with the desire to be bitten, to be claimed in the most intimate and primal of ways. She yearns for it, suddenly, her mind foggy, her body yearning, her back arching as though presenting her to her captor.

The lycan snarls and growls, and the blonde yelps when she feels the strong tongue lick across her inner thigh next.

“W-Wait!”, she shrieks as a massive hand wraps around her thick thigh, and gasps when she is spread open. With a single bite her underwear is snatched from her, leaving her shivering as the damp air of the cave hits her privates.

To her embarrassment, she is already soaked, her clit pulsing, her lips glistening with the wetness that drips from her.

The beast straddles her fully, its large clawed hands grabbing onto her petite wrists and pinning them above her head. Bela is a mess of thoughts.

What is happening? How come she is enjoying this so much?!

She feels so wet, she needs this so bad.

Never has she felt this turned on in her life..

She must get back! She must escape! Mother will be furious! Cassandra will never let her live it down! Daniela will never give her a break from the jokes and mockery!

She must feel the massive cock in her..so thick, so strong, already twitching as it is aligned to hang proudly between her legs.

Bela whimpers as she feels the thick, glistening wet tip against her tight pussy. Having neglected her needs in favor of working hard, she’s impossibly tight for the large cock dangling between her thighs. Let alone the huge knot…

The thought strikes fear into her mind. How could she possibly take the massive girth? How could her pussy ever recover from the stretch?

How could she take such a large knot? How could it ever fit into her?! What if..

What if she is bred?

Her eyes widen a little at the thought. So what if she is bred? What if the beast pumps load after load of thick cum into her?

The proud heiress of Alcina Dimitrescu, the noblest of her sisters, reduced to a cum dump, made to become a mate and be bred until she carries a litter of lycans in her womb.

She gasps, then screams and moans, as the thick tip pushes into her. Its soft head goes in easily despite the tightness, and Bela moans when, after years, she finally feels full again.

Yet, upon glancing down, she sees that barely the tip has made it in. There is a lot to go, still, and she already feels it as warm, no- hot, precum drools from the monstrous lycan and right into her.

Her thoughts wander more and more the foggier her brain gets and the higher she seems to get on the pheromones and scent surrounding her.

How many lycans make a litter? Two? Three? Six? Seven? Twelve?! She can’t remember, but by the size of the knot sitting at the base of the cock, she must fear for the worst.

Her hip is grabbed, then a strong arm is wrapped around her. She feels more of the cock push itself inside of her.

Her back arches and she feels the arm around her tighten, then can’t help but giggle when she is lifted off the floor.

“A-AAh! AH! Gnmnn!”

She throws her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she feels more and more fill her.

At last, she feels the knot pushed up against her stretched pussy.

“Ple-Please!”, she gasps. How on earth could she fit that knot into her?! As the creature’s hips pull back and the cock begins to slip out of her, she feels her pussy grip it tightly. It’s as though every part of her body tries to keep the monstrosity in her, as though despite what fears plague her mind, her body is eager and relentless to be bred.

For a moment, shame has her cheeks burn up and flush bright pink. She moans as she feels the long tongue explore her neck and grunts in pleasure as her captor’s hips slap back against her own.

“N-Ngnnm, yes! Y-yes! O-Oh god!”

They draw back, then snap to her again, making her jolt. She tugs her arms half heartedly, and unsurprisingly, the lycan’s grip only tightens on her.

She moans with every little drop of hot wetness that leaks into her. She gasps as thick and heavy balls slap against her ass, plap! Plap! Plap! With every thrust.

So thick..Bela’s head is thrown back as she merely thinks of how much cum they must hold inside. How much she will be made to cold inside.

“I-Oh..yes! Yes! A-Ah!”, she screams. She feels herself pushed closer and closer to her orgasm already within moments of this treatment.

But really, she can’t be blamed! Not when poor Bela’s pussy and body is unused to such treatment, when she clenches tightly around the cock and feels it stretch her more with every thrust.

And how can she be blamed, when she feels the thick tip push up against the back of her womb when it is fully nestled inside of her, when she feels the wet head rub up against her pink, spongy and wet insides.

She groans and moans, louder and louder and louder.

And the creature seems painfully aware of her state. She is grabbed hard and yanked about, her petite body used to practically jerk her up and down on the massive cock.

When she cums embarrassingly fast, tears begin to run down her cheek. Yet she yearns for more, fear and arousal filling her mind when she feels the heavy knot push up against her.

Even with a stretched pussy, she can’t imagine a single way such a thing could fit into her!

She gasps and moans loudly with every thrust into her wet and tight cunt. Each causes the thick knot to smack against her and nearly has her flinch each time.

Truly, she can’t grasp how such a thing could ever fit into her!

It seems, too, her monstrous captor couldn’t care less that she came. If anything, Bela feels the talons holding her tightening and the cock within her twitch.

Yes, she can imagine she is quite warm, wet and tight around the beast now. And still she gasps and moans high pitched with every little thrust and move into and out of her.

She is yanked and pulled, the rough treatment accompanied by almost sweet licks against her neck. She feels lightheaded already, little sighs escaping her thick lips here and there.

As she is fucked faster and she feels more and more precum drip into her, her attention is pulled to the fact she is being bred yet again.

And again, it feels her with a strange warmth that has her cheeks heat up, her ass clench and her pussy grip the cock stretching her sore tightly.

She wonders, will she bear a round stomach as she carries a litter of Lycans? The thought has her whimper and arch her back as best as she can.

Yes, she is already reeking of the creature, after all!

Will her breasts grow even larger and ache, so full of milk for her little pups? Bela gasps at the thought alone.

“N-A-AAh! AH! Ah! Yes! YES!”

She screams, loud and passionate, when she suddenly feels the teeth that have been rubbing against her neck push inside.

Warmth spreads throughout her body. She’s shaking, trembling and moaning, gasping and shrieking as she cums again. She knows, deep down, the bite has claimed her as the creature’s.

She groans when she suddenly feels cum be shot into her, massive amounts enough to cover her entire face- head even- if it was shot into it.

She squirms helplessly as she is pumped full of it, her arms held tightly, her neck forced still by sharp teeth, her pussy plugged with the cock as more and more cum floods her insides.

Her eyes widen as she looks down and finds her own stomach, growing more and more the more seed is pumped inside. She whines, her legs attempting to cross, her hips trembling in an attempt to move. But the large cock stays inside, and the beast only snarls angrily at her foolishness.

Soon, her stomach is round and full, large enough for poor Bela to let herself lean fully against the ground and the lycan, too weak and sore to carry the unexpected weight of her cum-filled stomach.

Already, it looks as though the monster impregnated her.

For a moment, the creature only pants. Bela catches her breath at last as she moves her hand to her neck, her bottom lip becoming trapped between her teeth as she feels two large bite marks on there. Blood smears around it, but below the sweet fluid, she feels the puncture wounds.

Then, however, her excitement is cut short and replaced by terror, arousal and fear.

The knot.

She mewls as it presses against her stretched pussy, harder and harder. She feels it throb and its warmth, its sheer size…

“It won’t fit!”, she pleads. The creature seems to think otherwise, as it snarls and growls, its grip tightening on Bela for a moment. She gasps when she is flipped over, so now her bare breasts are pushed up against the hard rock and muddy ground.

Her round stomach aches as it rests on the floor and poor little Bela whimpers in embarrassment as she feels more cum leak from her pussy again with every single breath.

She feels her leg be pulled to the aside and shivers slightly as the warm air of the cave hits her wet privates.

Then, she feels the knot push against her again. The monstrous lycan mounts her easily, its sheer size alone dominating the blonde.

Then, with a scream and a moan of pleasure, she feels it, finally. The knot, impossibly big, forced into her soaked pussy and sealing it like a plug. She whimpers and moans loudly.

She is grabbed tightly, her stomach a shameful, but arousal reminder of her new status as this monster’s mate and breeding puppet.

She gasps when there is even slight movement. More, and more. The creature can’t thrust into her with the knot in the way, but even the smallest of movements and turns give both insane amount of pleasure.

Bela is panting again quickly, her hands cupping her stomach and breast. She feels the blood pour from her neck, down her collarbone and past her breasts.

She feels her last orgasm of the day rising already within a few moments, her body seemingly automatically responding to the large knot inside.

When the creature bends down to lick her swollen stomach, she nearly cums from it alone. Yes…all this seed in her, the knot..she knows, she will be bred and impregnated.

Her cheeks heat up, her nipples harden, her ass clenches and tightens around nothing. Her pussy milks the cock and knot in her.

Bela whimpers and moans, pants even. She can’t bring her mind to think of anything but being what she is made to be now, a breeding toy. A future mother to a litter of lycans.

She thinks of her round belly, her sore and aching breasts leaking milk, a dozen little wolves running around.

She thinks of possessiveness, the one the creature has already showered her in.

A few more movements, and with a scream, the beautiful blonde cums again. She mewls as her mate does the same, the large, hard knot at least shrinking slightly in her.

She is held close as she whimpers and cries, her stretched pussy pumped full to the brink, so much so her own cum and the creature’s heavy, thick one. She feels the cum drip and smear everywhere, even.

Then, it seems over at last. Her eyes are heavy, her stomach even rounder and fuller. The knot rests in her, as if still acting like a plug that traps the creature’s seed in her.

Exhausted, she allows the large thing to shift her. She feels soft fur against her, and a gentle tongue running along her throat and stomach.

It’s almost..lovingly.

With a smile on her lips, she allows her eyes to slip shut

[viciouslyfilthy]

" The Beast of Lust. "

(Ex) Judge Claude Frollo

76 years of age (though aging now does not mean much to him anymore since he's cursed eternally to remain in this current form, he doesn't grow weaker but he doesn't get better)

Awassi sheep-like type of drake. (Formerly human)

Personality:

A cruel Judge no more, now all there is left is an utterly broken and humiliated man, somewhere deep inside the animalistic, lust-driven creature he is now.

Claude's spirit has been shoved so deep in embarassment and self-hatred that over the years the beast rarely cares to entertain these feelings anymore, he either bottles them up and dissociates from them- has outbursts of rage- or, much less common, he cries and pleads to God hopelessly.

Of course- this happens during few moments of clarity where he just decides to be angry with himself. His internal conflict remains, if anything- it only accentuated. His nature is very hypocritical. On one half, he no longer cares and gladly indulges in his vices and entertains himself with what brings him comfort and closure (his imps), he feels at peace during these moments, feeling like a completely different person; on the other half, his mind still sometimes desperately tries to cling back to being fully against indulging, attempting to abstain himself again and begging God for forgiveness, leading to guilt for 'sinning', which leads him to remember about his new condition- which leads him to reflect, which leads him down a path where he begins to understand why he's been punished this way- which leads to one or two things: a complete emotional shutdown where Claude flat out is unable to feel anything towards his past actions and what he is now, OR complete and utter denial of guilt which leads to more self-hatred until he either spirals into a manic, self-righteous episode or his animalistic instincts force his self-awareness to become temporarily absent, forcing him to take a break. (He ends up often forgetting about his anger, emotional and literal memory loss is another thing he frequently deals with)

This is the other thing I was implying at the beginning of this with 'during a few moments of clarity', Claude no longer has full control over himself, his old mind is merely a passenger that often gets the privilege of being aware of his existence and his actual complications. The best way I can describe his 'mindless beast' behaviour when he is not aware of his old self is a mixture between the Ice King from Adventure Time and Smaug from The Hobbit; he's still intelligent but it's as if he becomes another person entirely as he temporarily forgets about his past and that he used to be human. In this state he only cares to please himself (sexually or otherwise), eat, sleep and boss around/tend to his imps.

His behaviour is also very reminiscent of a common fictional dragon's greedy behaviour (which makes sense since he's supposed to be a drake AND a fitting fate for him to essentially have become a dragon given that he was very selfish as a human hehe); he may not spit fire but he will attack and maul anyone that enters his den unannounced or tries to steal from his hoard (he collects green shiny gems, often emeralds. This is an unconcious impulse driven by his obsession with Esmeralda; emeralds remind him of her name and vivid green colors remind him of her eyes). If the beast brings you into his den willingly, it's because he wants to keep you in there as part of his hoard. (If he has a moment of clarity, he might allow you to leave)

Biology:

His body is completely unrecognizable from the slim, human form he previously had. The only remnant that confirms that yes- this is the very same Judge, is his voice, untouched by the grisly transformation.

He's adapted the shape of a land drake, flightless and without any special kind of power really; he can't breathe fire nor possesses any kind of common magic you'd imagine most to have. His body is not all scaly! Some remnants of human skin remain in some areas (lower half of the body, head, neck, lower parts of arms & legs); the parts of his body that are scaly have a sturdier built, providing him some kind of protection- should he get attacked.

And this is where we get to the imps. He doesn't have any kind of common magic, but there is something that has been granted to him that can be considered magical: the power of his imps, a hivemind of little cutesy-devilish-looking creatures at his command that will obey his every command without arguing. It's like a grotesque mockery of the political power he previously possessed over fellow men.

The imps are also being mentioned here because they are an extension of Frollo, in a way. They have literally split off of him and they serve him and only him, and if an imp is killed- he will feel that pain much like the rest of the hivemind; the imps can also merge together! Often to recreate Frollo's original, human form (with tricorn hat and all!). He doesn't do this often with his imps and most times it's just to kind of mourn his humanity- but he can command his imps to go out and pretend to be him if he wanted to.

Overall the imps don't have many different personalities from one another since y'know they're a hivemind, but they do act like baby critters when they're not doing anything in particular or feel safe with their 'master'; they display unbothered/unphased joy and happiness while playing with eachother which makes them a tad wholesome with their child-like nature. Frollo cannot hurt them even if he wanted to, much as he might find them to be unnatural or 'unholy', the one thing his mind physically forbids him from hating, the one thing he is completely unable to be repulsed by, is his imps. It's like they carry bits of his humanity that is still 'pure' per say. (And also over the years he's grown to be oddly fond of them since they're pretty much all the company he has left now).

Backstory:

Day of Judgement finally arrived... it just so happened to be quite peaceful and not as destructive and chaotic as the Good Book put it, it was like any other day... well, somewhat- the Festival of Fools just so happened to fall upon this fateful date.

The evening of the same day Esmeralda had been left trapped within the cathedral of Notre Dame (the Hellfire song never happens in this AU unfortunately💔), the Judge would recieve a messenger at his door- warning him of what was to come, as his fate had been irreversibly decided: he was to slowly transform into a beast- his outsides would finally match his insides.

And of course... although intimidated, the Judge was quite offended and angered at such assumption of his character! He would've ordered this person be arrested for such insolence towards him, but as soon as he would try to chase them out the door- they were gone... as if they were never there.

The man paid no mind to these words, although unnerved- he preferred to focus on keeping an eye on the cathedral.

Until the changes started happening. During which he reluctantly allowed Esmeralda to go free after hearing she escaped, as he had other things to worry about now...

They were small at first, like longer, sharper nails and feeling little bumps around his head- but in less than a week they became very evident: nails turned into full-on claws, those bumps would begin to sprout into horns, and the Public Official would begin to display impulsive, animalistic behaviour towards his guards and the people around him- like growling and snapping at them.

The messenger's words returned to him one night like a bucket of boiling water splashed in his face- when he ruthlessly attacked and mauled a guard with a force he couldn't have possessed before; when the man became self-aware again of what he had done- he was greedily devouring the guts of the corpse before him like an animal. He stepped back, shocked, horrified and disgusted- yet something... called to him. A primal hunger he couldn't help but to satisfy.

And so begins his descent into fully becoming a monster on the outside as well.

The Judge would lock himself up in his home for months, lying that he was terribly sick to avoid having anyone see him in these conditions. He wouldn't be able to bear the humiliation and dread of thousands of eyes watching him become something unholy, unnatural, all because of his own actions.

He finds little comfort in anything as he's practically a prisoner in his own home, his sanctuary, finally being on the other side of the table with how Quasimodo must have felt for two decades. He hated it.

Then, memory loss begun to set in, which scared the man further- he would begin to forget verses from the Bible, he would forget he was ever human temporarily as he would devour raw meat and grow restless to leave his cage. His home begun to feel like an artificial setting within a zoo. His thoughts were not his own, and because of this- he chose to furiously write down his entire life and what led to him writing it down, which resulted in a genuine moment of self-reflection.

You'd expect some remorse from the wicked Judge, don't you?

He did too.

He slowly realized just how 'impure' his actions were that he did in the name of God and his duties as Official. He recognized them. He felt guilt and regret, but not out of remorse. He felt guilt and regret because this is what led to his hideous transformation.

He doesn't feel bad for who he has hurt, he doesn't feel a smidge of remorse for what he did to Quasimodo's mother, he doesn't feel a thing for Quasimodo in this context. Even when he tries to look for how he's supposed to feel, his heart is hollow. He doesn't genuinely regret his actions, only the fact that they're what led to him getting cursed.

And this is why Claude Frollo has been cursed to remain like this forever. His humanity stripped because of how far he separated himself from humanity with his cruelty, looking down upon others that were people just like him, and placing himself as high as the God he worships.

This curse is permanent because there never was redemption or 'making up' intended towards his past actions, there never will be because he doesn't truly feel bad about it. Although he may face guilt and accept being wrong behind closed doors, he does not feel remorse.

Eventually the beast suffered a manic episode that led to fleeing his sanctuary, leading him to burst out of his home in the middle of the night and escape somewhere he could be away from everything. He couldn't tolerate showing his horrendous face to the people of Paris, much less to admit any wrongdoings that caused this.

And so... here he is now, living in a den of his own making somewhere deep within the earth of France, his soul rotten by his vices he can no longer bottle up or abstain from (greed, lust, gluttony...).

A monster of his own making... but oddly enough he feels happy, in a twisted way. Happier than he has ever been when he was human. If he could choose to go back to being human and remaining a beast... in front of someone else, he would choose becoming human again- but if he was alone, although hesitant, he would choose to remain as he is. He wouldn't go back.

[fatuismooches]

I got this idea from another person’s head canon. After leaving the Academia, reader and Dottore’s Akasha terminals were confiscated. It was a sudden change when they started having dreams for the first time since they were kids. What would they dream of?

(HC by @/glassrowboat)

Zandik never used the Akasha Terminal extensively, much preferring to seek out and confirm knowledge with his own means and efforts, but if there was one thing he appreciated, it was the lack of dreaming it offered. He had to admit, the concept of dreams was vast and fascinating, but as for his dreams... they were a hindrance. Nothing could be learned from what he dreamt, as long as they were the same thing over and over. If Dottore was lucky enough, he'd dream of nothing at all.

But when he dreamt, he had nightmares. Zandik dreamt of the past, of flames and torches and a lone child. Of the present, of solitary moments and judgy stares. Unpleasant dreams, to say the least. Truly an annoyance, now he has to wake up, jarred from what his mind produces against his will, and remain ever so still, as to not wake you and cause you to fuss over his wellbeing. Still, it's not like he sleeps that much in the first place so it's not a major problem. Soon enough, hopefully, he won't even need to sleep in the first place (it never happens, the poor thing.)

You, on the other hand, would dream of rather... well, things any average person dreams of. Sometimes your dreams are normal... going out and spending time together and waking up confused that it didn't actually happen. Sometimes your dreams are of surviving the apocalypse with Zandik or slaying a monster with him or being super scientists in whatever the Genius Society was or-! Zandik wished he could take a peek and prod into that brain of yours, to know how you imagined such a variety of things. In a way, he's a bit envious... only for scientific purposes, of course.

Your favorite dream, however, is a peaceful, ordinary life with Zandik in the far, quiet side of Sumeru where every day is spent mundanely but happily. But there's a reason why that can only ever be a dream.

[diariodeunrincondemi]

So I can't get over AOT finale and after reading son many opinions, one thing that catches my attention is that it is said that Isayama is a genius for referencing Schindler's List. But the thing is: since the beginning he has been referencing different works of art.

When Eren in his titan form carries the rock on his back in Shiganshina, it is a reference (in design) to Atlas (a titan) carrying the world ball on his back.

When Historia and Eren are in the Reiss chapel, there is a reference to the representations of Jesus crucified and also to the representations of La Pieta (which at the time led me to think of Eren as the redeemer of the Eldians, but in a more twisted way. If the Eldians are the devil, he would sacrifice himself for them to free them from sin).

There are also references to Goya, like Dina devouring Eren's mom is a clear reference to Saturn devouring his son (Goya's most famous paint); but also, if you know Goya's work, you'll probably know his famous aquatint The sleep/dream of reason produces monsters (in spanish we use the word "sueño" for both "sleep" and "dream") which talks about how when humans abandon the reason and only have fantasies, monsters are created. And tbh, there was a moment, I don't know if during the 3rd or 4th season, when I wondered if AOT captured that idea: Eren has dreams, fantasies, but not reason.

And finally, don't forget Plato's Cave myth. What happens in Paradis (the Cave) is the shadow of what's happening in the continent (the outside world). As in this myth, people of Paradis lives in the cave and they only knows that reality, but Paradis reality (it is the shadows) is not the real reality (the outside world).

[writingnekoo]

Odysseus' character analysis & how we overlook his trauma

Okay, this will be a long post about Odysseus and what could be happening in his head after his return to Ithaca because I really need to share these ideas <3

During the last few days I've been thinking about the whole Poseidon-obssesed-with-Odysseus concept (thanks to @rin-solo for inspiration :)), and that's how I recalled one headcanon of mine about Odysseus and his possible perception of his conflict with Poseidon.

A disclaimer first: I know that Epic is sometimes historically and culturally inaccurate, but! I want to include some of the cultural norms of ancient times because they will make things much more interesting.

So, since early August I've had an idea that Odysseus' personality during the post-Odyssey timeline would be heavily influenced by PTSD. That's just reasonable: the war takes its toll on the person anyway, especially on the warrior like Odysseus. He saw the nightmares of the Trojan War, lost his comrades and faced things that made him lose his sleep.

I actually like how Odysseus' trauma is depicted in Epic. We have these parts with the voices of Polites, Eurylochus and Anticlea and see just how much these losses affected Odysseus (take the ending of "Love in Paradise"). But instead of focusing on the losses like the musical does I'd rather talk about those who had caused them. It's a curious thing about the mentality of those who survived the war and similar events: their mind tends to demonize and hate those who caused pain deeply. It produces the ultimate hatred that is able to overcome any other feeling. This is the idea that I want to pursue in my Monster AU (might write about it later because that's another long talk) about the overwhelming feeling, produced by trauma, that can't be distinguished. And Odysseus is the only character in the story who has endured that twenty-year long nightmare: his comrades from the Trojan War didn't have the decade of journey back home behind their backs, and those who sailed with Odysseus died.

But there's one more layer to this scenario. While we've covered the idea about the war victim demonizing the aggressor, we can't forget that we're talking about the religious society of ancient times. Poseidon and Zeus are the two godly villains of Odysseus' story. However, they're also the god of the tides, who must've been one of the most widely worshiped in Ithaca (since it's an island... yeah), and the King of the gods.

That leaves Odysseus in an even more complex situation. Because he most likely highly respected both of them for his whole life. Eventually, they left Odysseus ruined. The people of Ithaca didn't stop worshipping them, and Odysseus has to follow the same religious rituals and celebrate annual festivities, which definitely reminds him of what had happened.

Once again, no one understands what he's gone through. Even Penelope and Telemachus, no matter how supportive they are. Thus, the trauma is left unseen and unhealed. Too bad there was no therapy in the ancient world, Odysseus would've needed it.

Finally, this whole set of reasons serves as a perfect background for deep and tragic obsession with those who hurt him and inability to let go of the past. Do the voices fall silent after Odysseus defeats all the enemies? No, they probably don't. Because even though physically Odysseus is already home, mentally, he's still fighting with the ghosts of his enemies. This is a desperate feeling that belongs to a broken man who no longer fits into society like he used to. And it eats him alive, kills him from the inside. No ruthlessness or bloodshed can help Odysseus to run from this despair. It fact, they might only make it worth by reminding who made him a monster! :)

Generally... this is pretty much it. The whole idea of all-consuming despair and trauma is what I've wanted to pursue here because I find it very natural in terms of everything that Odysseus has been through. I'd also like to analyze the whole Vengeance saga (especially my fav Six Hundred Strike) from this perspective because it actually makes perfect sense for me, but that's one more long post of another time lmao.