the girls with esoteric genders are cooking up forms of affection that could vaporise even the strongest adventurers
If you win the love of a monster you should be prepared for us to hold on with fang and claw, adventurer. My love will not burn you because I am careless, it will burn you because I leaned to love the way so many monsters do.
I leaned love the hard way. I learned the love of the scorpion before the love of the puppy, the love that grabs and hisses and says “mine.” I learned the love of the crocodile before the love of the lamb, the love that will latch on and pull you under and thrash about in desperate need. I learned passion from hatred so can only love as intensely as I was once reviled.
If hatred means you’ll destroy a city to drive a monster into the countryside, then I learned that love must mean you’ll burn a world to put a smile on their face.
You seek the love of a monster, adventurer? You want into a heart that burns with eldritch flame, you want to be embraced by arms that warp the gaps between?
My love is too strong for you, adventurer.
Prove me wrong.
