#bestial summoning

[mac-tirs]

the usage of different types of english in elden ring

most human/tarnished NPCs we meet, like rogier, ansbach, and nepheli, use late modern english:

"a sorcerer, as you might have guessed. i'm looking for a little something, here in the castle. when i'm not hotfooting it from the troops, that is." - rogier, first meeting "general radahn. a pleasure to see you, after all this time. but those remains do not belong to you." - ansbach, upon summon for PCR

but older demigods like messmer, ranni, and morgott use early modern english:

"thou'rt tarnished, it seemeth. mother, wouldst thou truly lordship sanction, in one so bereft of light? yet… my purpose standeth unchanged." - messmer, pre-battle cutscene "thou needst not indulge them unduly, but they too wish to appraise thy worth. it hath been a passing long time since a newcomer entered my service, after all." - ranni, after agreeing to serve her

then there are the younger demigods, like miquella, malenia, and potentially melina, who use a later variant of modern english, similar to the tarnished NPCs we speak to:

"if we honour our part of the vow, promise me you'll be my consort. i'll make the world a gentler place." - miquella, post-PCR cutscene "the scarlet bloom flowers once more. you will witness true horror. now, rot!" - malenia, phase 2 transition cutscene

finally, the hornsent NPCs like the hornsent, hornsent grandam, and the hornsent spirits such as the one outside the whipping hut, who use late middle english similar to the english found in shakespeare's sonnets:

"fie, another? ... then, as that woman would surely say, we are in our purposes well aligned. but understand. your kind are not forgiven. the erdtree is my people's enemy. by marika long betray'd, set aflame." - hornsent, first meeting "all your resentment lingers yet... the raw stuff from which i shall surely forge a curse. upon the dastard messmer's head. upon marika's children each and all." - scorched ruins hornsent spirit

i find it interesting how different the usage of english is in the game, and i feel that it can be a hint on how to properly date an individual's occupation in the lands between/land of shadow. the hornsent, being a people much older than many in the lands between, use the most archaic version of english, while the tarnished and younger demigods use a form of english more closely related to our own in the current period. older demigods (and marika herself, as heard from melina's recounts of marika's spoken echoes) use a form of english more closely related to the period of transition from middle english to early modern english.

additionally, another interesting thing to me: mohg is almost certainly nearly the same age as morgott (since they're referred to as twins), yet he speaks a little differently compared to morgott:

"tarnished, thou'rt but a fool." - morgott, post-battle dialogue "dearest miquella. you must abide alone a while." - mohg, pre-battle cutscene

this makes me wonder if it's possible that, assuming that miquella's verbiage is indicative of his younger age in comparison to the older demigods (aka the demigods born before the marika/radagon union), miquella's charm altered mohg's perception enough to also alter his manner of speaking and carrying himself in some way. if his pursuit of finery (dressing in embroidered robes and handling himself with poise, juxtaposing his bestial growls and strength) was mainly done in an effort to fit into miquella's ideal of a consort. of course, mohg could just be as vain as he seems to be all on his own accord, but i find that it's interesting to entertain the idea that even his current state of being was due to miquella's charm.

i'd love to hear what others think about this. i'm not very learned when it comes to english (it's not really my first language), but i find this all very cool to think about.

[heavenslittlemachine]

i think today im going to summon all of the bestial angels and such that ive been aggregating in my body in the form of perceptual information over the last several decades, stitch them together in the form of a single syllable, and release it as a sort of wide blast whose reverberations will shatter both the crust of the earth in flesh and its image as the map in spirit, drawing forth a subterranean man of clay and his double in ink, into whom i will place the disc of the moon and the breath of the Word which unbinds and transfigures, and set them upon the nations as agents of the reversal of night and day, and then i'm going to eat so much ice cream that it makes me sick

[saint-bestial]

sleep token really dropping the best songs of the year like a week into it huh

[narenohate]

the reckless, the wild youth (WIP)

(since eda and raine's backstory is so different in this AU, i'm pondering a comic about the two of them and just how and why it went so wrong) (infodump.... ramble?? ig down there + design notes on how my progress is going with this project)

Seb's design notes: anyways i've been dancing with the idea of making canis caninam's witches more animalistic. because yeah im just having fun at this point. bonus, sphynx / owl beast design. i'm not a big fan of her canon design, and it's not because i think she's scary.

my current inspo for the witch faces is a mix of good ol' na'vi 3d models, deerchip's s work (they're on twitter!!) and olya bossak's anthropomorphic portraits!! i didn't just want them to be elves who purr, tbh... though more and more as i post this i'm kind of hoping to get harrassed off the fandom for my weird ideas and "forced" to make this into an original story.

ramble on story derived from conversation with Bow (idea beta tester, victim of the circumstances of my hyperfixation, beautiful white hetero man who got here by accident). IT'S A ROUGH, UNEDITED DRAFT. PARTS OF IT ARE DIRECTLY FROM A CONVERSATION. IT'S ROUGH. Eda is born to the Clawthorne family - daughter of Gwendolyn, a healer, and Dell, a toy maker who married into her clan as to escape the hardships of living outside the barrier, amidst bestial demons... and probably something else, smart enough to scare him into hiding, though that usually goes unsaid. She is one of a pair of twins, and, for the first fourteen suns, eleven moons and twenty-nine sundowns of their lives they are inseparable.

It's their fifteenth birthday when Dell gives them an old grimmoire that has been in his family for centuries. Some of its words have been altered with the years, rewritten and repaired by generations, their meaning lost - symbols re-drawn from memory with each unfortunate accident.

Lilith partakes in that tradition - having to repair a page of a long-winded wild-spell meant to be cast by a powerful warlock, after she spills some tea on it.

that night, the two set out to camp with a group of their friends -hyacinth, a selk nobleman who, despite his young age, served under belos as his huntsmaid and personal cook, and his apprentice, darius, a prodigy who'd already been branded for a coven, and who'd been personally selected by belos to be a companion for the golden-haired boy who'd earned his favor.

and, of course, trailing slightly behind, raine whispers. their glasses are foggy and they already smell like the alcohol they brought to the party.

nobody leaves the outermost wall to camp these days, of course, so the bunch of them settle in an abandoned park, before doing as teenagers do when provided alcohol, and getting plastered.

at some point, eda, raine and hyacinth get into an argument of some kind - one that results in eda opening the grimmoire she brought along, and going along with the plan she'd nearly abandoned: using her rudimentary knowledge of the old tongue the tome was written in, she makes a circle out of salt around herself, and reads the spell.

its words are all wrong. whatever she summons she angers, and, at first, nothing happens.

then, as she and raine lay together on her hammock the afternoon after the party and the tiny backyard camping "trip", eda falls ill.

it was fever and it was vomiting. then the lining of her stomach, then her gums and her teeth and her tongue. her skin sagged and it was like she was all liquid inside it.

raine slept by her bedside, singing to calm her down whenever she awoke. lilith laid in the old manor's basement, endlessly brewing potion after potion to try and quell the pain that refused to ebb away.

darius and hyacinth did not go to belos - instead they were stopped at the door by the clawthorne patriarch, and with his help, took a griffin out of the city, found an old thing. it called itself queen of bats, and it was made of wood, and it knew dell very well.

the three give her the griffin, and spend four sunsets and three sunrises walking back with their prize - it's a living tether, a wooden owl dell had made as a toy for his daughter when she was very young. filled with the griffin's soul, it was given by its enchantress the mission of tethering its holder.

they arrive to a burning house. darius and dell don't speak of it, but the only time they both see the emperor is when they deliver his selk concubine's mutilated carcass at the throne room, laid at his feet like an offering.

dell lost one eye to his daughter, the other eye and both hands to the emperor.

raine was gone to everyone except the thing that eda had become, a sphynx that spared their life for the price of their song. they land atop a rocky cliffface, a few miles away from the outer border of the bonesborough wall - soon, something finds them.

the owl her father had carved for her followed eda, and raine became sure, at that moment, that she wasn't lost.

lilith and darius compensated for hyacinth's loss, sitting for years at the foot of the throne as the emperor's guards, until belos found it fit to entrust them both to make for him a new selkie servant - they took hyacinth's old heart, a blue stone that ebbed and flowed, and they took the lungs of a dragon, the innards of a maiden, and all the blood they could get from a seal-devil, along with a tiny fragment of bone that had been strapped to hyacinth's old heart.

they spend day and night putting him together - the rough face of clay mixed with blood, the organs gracefully gifted, the bone.

they bury the sculpture. a boy digs himself out of the dirt while they sleep in the temple, curled up together in a mess of ratty old sheets they'd found.

they name him hunter because he was more demon than boy, but had hyacinth's face, and, though something seemed very wrong, he had somehow killed and dragged in a rat to eat by their side during the time they'd spent asleep.

belos allows the name to stay, and grants them both titles and robes of white, and allows them to mary whomever they wish.

lilith secludes herself to a temple and studies every grimmoire she can, and darius takes on apprentice after apprentice, teaching them how to pull the throat strings of a bard out, and how to best slay a sphynx.

hunter looks just like hyacinth, and, despite how strongly he'd imprinted on his makers, they both hate him from just the look in his eyes.

lilith finds the portraits of every other selk concubine, every other golden guard.

it's always hyacinth's face. meanwhile, raine managed to unearth eda - partially.

they bind her to them, and she remembers very little, but she is undeniably herself, and despite the tragedy of her body, or maybe because of it, she seeks to cause chaos. she embraces the life of a wildling, and raine follows in her stead.

a year passes. then two. three, maybe. probably more, considering everything that comes after. what really matters is that, as raine grows more frantic in their search for something that can help her, occasionally coming in contact with the fragmented clawthorne family's matriarch (before finding her treatments too harsh), all in search for a way to stabilize eda's mind and body...

she accepts that fate she was given.

the system of castes and castings and divisions becomes pointless to her, and she eagerly, easily pushes raine to rebellion by her side. the wards around the walls have nothing against her - usually, griffins and dragons don't fly that high.

raine found gwen's attempts to heal her daughter too much - but at some point, more than a decade after the two set out together, a night after raine settles a chain with a golden ring around her massive paw's wrist, they catch wind, through that shared palisman of theirs, that raine's mother has passed.

they leave eda to sleep atop the church, tail around its tower, and enter it to pray.

they meet someone - a who who dances on the edge of being a what - and, in their grief, bear to her their heart, and are offered a deal in return.

all they want in life, for a price, their mind.

eda wakes up, a moon later, transformed, and with every memory made vague, erased except for vague outlines.

naked but for a wedding ring around her neck, in a dark, low chunk of the city, with the body of a beast, she's seen as exotic enough to work the night for a couple years, as she catches up on a life she lost, and takes the name of a harpy, not knowing she's a clawthorne.

… clawthorne health clinic seems so familiar of a name, though. she jots down their contacts. attends every speech given by darius deammonne, head of the carnomantis force, and often borrows from the library books on forbidden magic written or translated by one lilith clawthorne.

it's not familiar.

she feels like it should be, though. so she digs into it all - never takes the name of clawthorne, but as her social standing falls and she teeters ever closer to living outside the walls, the people around her take to calling her the owl-lady.

she eventually takes to stealing from old homes - the abandoned sort, full of hobs and rats and hexes she can easily bypass, with magic as strong (as well-trained, despite the lack of any memory of schooling) as hers.

there's a farm-house, though, mostly burnt, long ago vacated, that feels very familiar when she enters. she tears up despite not remembering her, when she recognizes her twin's face beside her own in a portrait. in the rubble of a bedroom, a large woven hammock still has an old violin sitting broken on top of its torn fabric.

inside its case, the thing she knows she gave up her memories - or maybe something more - for, sits waiting and patient.

... a key to the human realm. she knows a lot about it, and remembers an unbound fascination.

(her one visit goes very wrong, of course - but she can spy through her palisman's little eye, so it's worth it. it's all worth it.)

meanwhile, raine wakes up, married to a woman whose face is foggy to them, with three apprentices who don't know their name but promise they've been there under them for weeks.

whomever wiped their mind didn't bother to take the human-styled wedding ring off their finger.

[itsabouttimex2]

My Alternate Universes

(AF) Primal Moon:

Twice a year; once in spring and once in autumn, a verdant moon rises to bring the bestial instincts of non-humans to light. Celestials and demons alike struggle to keep hold of themselves, something ancient welling up within them and shifting their thoughts and feelings to a more animalistic state.

The spring moon ends on the summer solstice, the autumn moon ends on the winter solstice.

Each week drives non-humans to feral or uninhibited states, leaving them struggling to control themselves. Violence and kidnappings spike during this time, humans as the usual victims. As a result of this, many people hold rather bigoted and fearful views towards demons and Celestials. Some even wish to oust them from society entirely.

(LMK) Monkie Glaive:

Long ago, monsters of terrifying might roamed the land freely. These beasts tore villages asunder and swallowed up the people inside, leaving naught but cinders of destruction in their wake. When a great Black Dragon came to wreak havoc upon humanity with wings spread wide, only one dared to stand against it- the legendary hunter, Sun Wukong! With his lightning-charged glaive held high, the Monkey King summoned a storm and forced the dragon down from the skies, where he overcame it in single combat! Today, in his honor, we hunters train monkeys as our partners to aid us on the field. With them, we overcome our opponents and forge a brighter future for all of humanity!

(Essentially, a Monster Hunter crossover.)

(LMK) Let’s Start Over:

It’s been years since MK’s story ended, and now yours is just beginning. Upgrading his nickname to ‘Monkie Knight’, he’s working hard to shape you into a worthy successor. As the new ‘Monkie Kid’, you are:

1. An everyday mortal, you were gifted a tiny fraction of MK’s power, allowing you to wield the staff and use his skills. Putting yourself in danger leads to the prompt removal of this privilege, and then you’re relegated to chores and stretches until MK thinks you’ve learned your lesson.

2. A Mystic Monkey in disguise, unaware of your true nature. If he finds out, he’s intent on breaking the news early, trying to keep you from having a breakdown like him. He considers you to be a kindred soul, and frequently offers to help with grooming and personal strife.

Given that MK still hasn’t overcome his trauma, he’s grown extremely protective of his successor, trying to force you down a safe and happy path. He dotes on you constantly, acting almost like a surrogate father. Instead of allowing you to explore and fight on your own, he tags along everywhere to keep you safe. He refuses to truly relinquish his responsibilities to you, instead vicariously living through the safety and security he forces onto you.

Until you get the chance to slip away and meet a resurrected villain that MK had hoped to never see again, allowing you to take the first step on your own journey.

(LMK) Taken Aboard:

Upon his visit to the sprawling Emerald Grove; a massive expanse of forest and rivers, Tang Sanzang finds a mischievous demon child living all alone- you. Taking pity on you, the Great Monk prays to Guanyin for her help, and receives two more tightening bands. Upon being ‘gifted’ these golden cuffs, you ask for the monk’s help to put them on- and are promptly dragged into a long and dangerous journey against your will.

Your fellow pilgrims come to view you as a mischievous little sibling, in need of both discipline and love. They won’t stop Sanzang from activating the bands, but are happy to help with the wounds and tears that come afterwards. They also engage in your tutoring, helping to teach you to read and write and perform basic arithmetic.

All the while, you try your hardest to escape and return home.

[katyahina]

Gascoigne's beast form stuff (ask reply)

@ anon I decided to respond in this blog instead of my personal/rambles one, hope this is ok!

(Model ripped by tokami-fuko on dA ( x ))

I think this is a fair suggestion that his transformation might go even further, especially considering the fact that he not only barely has any fur, but also his skin keeps its color! Beasthood has a consistent trend of making skin that unnatural grey color:

(LOVE that they bothered to give bestial hunter's normal form unnatural skin color too despite the fact that we can't see it in game! Sometimes their attention to detail is just.. something)

Amelia is probably the biggest pointer as we are clearly shown her human skin color on her hands in a cutscene.. In fact, arguably, Gascoigne is doing a bit better than average Huntsmen, or even better than the fellow Old Hunters (look at hostile Old Hunter mob and 'true' form of Bestial Hunter). He has been losing himself to the hunt and paranoia for a while now and finally lost it, but he doesn't have that much fur, his skin color didn't alter. (He also doesn't have horns unlike Cleric Beasts, Abhorrent Beasts and even Large Huntsmen, but these are not for all beasts so we don't have to count them!)

I think that Huntsmen are transforming gradually over time, consumed by blood and aggression, and their 'final' form is Scourge Beast type, when they become completely animalistic:

I think it is valid to believe that Gascoigne could transform even further, there are enough reasons to think so! He is still too humanoid, all things considered! I will just move onto my personal interpretation now!

The thing about Cleric Beast-leaning Gascoigne is a really great topic of discussion! He already was a 'Father' (as in, religious figure) in his homeland, so, a cleric! As for Yharnam life, not only he was with the Healing Church once and quit it, but also his transformation happens extremely abruptly, that we only saw with Amelia!

(Interviews: ( x ))

The thing about Cleric Beasts is that they're so horrible because they've been holding back for so long. I can imagine Gascoigne being the same, as someone struggling to hold back so much for his family. We just happen to meet him when he finally breaks, but the guy must have had a huge will power to last as much as he did. +Also, please correct me if this was debunked, but as someone who always uses hunter summons to examine their patterns I've noticed that Gascoigne is the only one who never even once uses Blood Vials? If this is intentional, it could be a further evidence of his self-restraint: avoiding consuming the blood being aware of its addicting properties!

But here is why personally I do not headcanon that Gascoigne could transform even further! Unlike average people that are turning gradually, with strongly self-restraining people whatever form they take when they finally break IS their inner beast, it its truest form! This IS already his "cleric beast" form.... And it is not all that big and scary or impressive, because HE didn't have as much evil to hold back as average clerics in Healing Church. One person's very worst won't be the same as another person's very worst, but I also think it psychologically "helped" him to waste some aggression in the hunt - something Laurence and Amelia didn't have!

He murdered and part of the dark urges would escape through it, but he did not hunt in the same unhinged way as Ludwig either, so he is not transforming into someone as big and scary as him. He is just helping people! Not to mention Viola helping him to calm down with the music box when he was forgetting himself in the hunt. Just the right balance between what impulses to restrain and what to unleash!

My personal headcanon is that he cut the ties with the Healing Church over its corruption and wish to self-isolate and abandon the hunt (with the exception of its own walls), leaving the citizens to fend for themselves and defaming Oedon Chapel to bury the "proper" hunt as a concept. He was a honest man with a sense of justice and could not stand resorting to safety and not doing anything to help... But he still had religious principles of self-restrain and patience internalized; if not Healing Church ones, then those of the Church in whatever country he came from! It is also why whereas I believe that Cheric Beast of the Bridge was a Healing Church hunter too, since he drops Sword Hunter badge, he certainly avoided the hunt except for maybe defending Amelia, and mostly participated indirectly as the commander. (Honorable mention: Henriett that did the same, because her clothes imitate Old Hunters' set and she is a summon against Healing Church bosses, but she has Church weapons).

_____________________

Thank you very much for an ask, it was interesting to think about and it helped me to shape my interpretation of the character better! He definitely has something in common with Cleric Beasts, but I just personally like to think that as a 'hold back and snap' kind of beast rather than 'gradually transforming' kind of beast, this IS his "worst"- Still very strong and fearsome, but far from how much evil the corrupt clerics held back! He is just a good boy!

[mask131]

Greek monster myths (1)

Various mini-articles loosely translated from the French « Dictionary of Feminine Myths », under the direction of Pierre Brunel. (You could also translate the title as “Dictionary of Female Myths” – the idea being all the myths centered around women)

Article 1: Gorgô

[Note: this mini-article is distinct from the mini-article about “Gorgons”]

The appearance of Gorgô, at the end of the eleventh chant of the Odyssey, is meant to cause fright – not just to Odysseus himself who is just done with invoking the dead, but also to the audience hearing this rhapsody (the Phaeacians listening to Odysseus’ tale), and to the very listener of the Homeric poem. Gorgô forms the dominant peak of this “evocation of the dead” (nekuia), she is the “chlôron déos”, the “green fear”. Odysseus’ mother, Anticleia, just disappeared back again nto the Hades – the hero wishes to summon other shades, such as those of Theseus and of his former companion Pirithous, “but before them, here is that with hellish cries the uncountable tribes of the dead gathered”. And Odysseus adds: “I felt myself becoming green with fear at the thought that, from the depths of the Hades, the noble Persephone might sent us the head of Gorgô, this terrible monster…” (633-635). It is barely an apparition, it is the possibility of an appearance, but it is enough to terrorize the living.

Jean-Pierre Vernant, in his work “La Mort dans les yeux” (Death in the eyes), establishes the link which ties together Gorgô and Medusa. Because Gorgô is more than a singular unification of the three Gorgons: she is a superlative form of Medusa, she is what happens when her petrifying gaze survives beyond death. By studying the depictions of Gorgô in ancient statues, Vernant establishes two fundamental traits: the faciality, and the monstrosity. He explains that “interferences” take place “between the human and the bestial, associated and mixed in diverse ways”. Maybe Gorgô is, as Vernant suggests, “the dark face, the sinister reverse of the Great Goddess, of which Artemis will most notably be the heir”. But Gorgô is also placed in the function of watchful guardian of the world of the dead, a world forbidden to the living. The mask of Gorgô expresses the radical alterity of Death and the dead.

Article 2: The Graeae

Daughters of Keto and Phorkys (they are thus also called “The Phorcydes”), sisters of the Gorgons, these divinities of shadows, which were born as elderly women and doomed to share one eye and one tooth for all three, appear exclusively in the tale of Perseus and Medusa.

The most ancient mention of the Graeae comes from Hesiod’s Theogony, which only counts two of them and names them Pemphredo and Enyo (Enyo was also the name of a goddess of war within Homer’s Iliad). The third of the sisters appears within a fragment of the Athenian logographer Pherecyde: Deino (“The Dreadful”), later called Persis by Hyginus (in his “Preface to fables”). Other authors, like Ovid, prefer to stick with two Graeae. Hesiod makes a quite flattering portrait of them: he makes them elegant goddesses with a “beautiful face”, even though they were “white-haired (understand “having white hair due to old age”) since birth”. And while their very name means “old women”, the Antique iconography actually follows the Hesiodic model: the depictions of the sisters as disfigured by the effects of time are quite rare… At most the artists will just put a few wrinkles. These mysterious hybrids between youth and old age, virginal seduction and sinister ugliness, finds an echo within a few lines from Aeschylus “Prometheus bound”: “Three ancient maidens, with swan bodies, that share a single eye and a single tooth, and who never receive a look from the shinng sun or the crescent of the night.” Aeschylus had an entire tragedy written about them (Phorcydes) which was unfortunately lost – but Aristotle wrote about it in his “Poetics” and implies that the play insisted on their monstrous aspect, placing them within the legendary area known as “the gorgonian fields of Kisthene”, and closely associating them with their sisters, of which they form a reversed image. Indeed, the Gorgons have a very powerful eyesight which no mortal being can face, while the Graeae have an extreme form of blindness. This trinity of women, old by nature, can also be understood as the antithesis of the three Charites, the Graces which embodied eternal youth.

The Graeae seems to have only a role within the myth of Perseus. And, outside of a few details, this legend does not change much from Pherecyde to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, passing by Lycophron, Apollodorus’ Bibliotheca, and Hyginus’ Astronomy. In all those versions the Graeae are the jealous keeper of the secret path that leads to the Gorgons, and Perseus must steal their eye in order to obtain the knowledge needed to reach Medusa. However, Pherecyde did change an element: according to him the Graeae do not protect the path leading to the Gorgons, but rather the path leading to the nymphs that hold the magical items Perseus needs to fight Medusa.

Due to their limited presence in Greek mythology, the Graeae have quite a poor cultural posterity. In the 19th century Goethe will remember them: in his “Second Faust”, Mephistopheles appears under the guise of “Phorkyas”, a monster with only one eye and one tooth. In the world of paintings, Edward Burne-Jones, who created a true “Perseus cycle”, had a strong interest for them: he worked for a very long time on a painting of the Graeae. Their face is barely visible, but the cloth that wraps itself around their body is menacing ; they are within an arid desert, under a dark sky heavy with clouds – they perform a sinister dance, in a mockery of the Graces. Perseus comes to steal their eyes, and the grey color that invades all the nuances of the picture symbolizes the unique presence of those strange crones, both disquieting and pitiable.

Article 3: Echidna

Echidna, “the viper”, is according to Hesiod the daughter of Phorkys and Keto, themselves born of Pontos, the Sea, and Gaia, the Earth. Echidna’s sisters are female monsters like her: the Graeae, and the Gorgons. Hesiod describes her as having half of the body of a “fair-cheeked nymph”, while the rest of her body is the one of an enormous, big, cruel, spotted and terrible snake which “lies within the secret depths of the divine earth”. Echidna as such belongs to this large mythological family of snake-women, of which the most famous case in France is the fairy Mélusine. But unlike Mélusine, Echidna can never leave the snake-half of her body, and thus a better French heir would be Marcel Aymé’s depiction of the vouivre with her cohort of vipers.

Theodore de Banville, when he imagines Hesiod scolding him for sanitizing Classical mythology, makes of Echidna the symbol of the archaic mythology: he tells him that he is “making a toy out of the history of the gods” by depicting Love as “a sweet child, free of carnivorous appetites, ignored by the Furies and by bloody Echidna”.

Echidna precisely appears as a being led by an amorous desire within Herodotus’ tales, that he claims to have collected among the Greeks of Pontus Euxinus: as Herakles was sleeping, Echidna steals his horses away. She only agrees to give them back if he sleeps with her. When Herakles leaves her, she tells him that she will bear three sons from their union. He advises them to only keep with her one that would be able to bend a bow just like him, and to force the others to leave. She does that, and this favorite son is supposed to be the one that created the Scythian people. This meeting between Herakles and Echidna might be derived from the famous encounters between Herakles and three of Echidna’s other children: the Nemean Lion, the Hydra of Lerna, and Cerberus.

In Aeschylus, Orestes compares his mother, Clytemnestra, to “a horrible viper”. Sophocles has Creon call Ismene, which he believes to have helped Antigone, “a viper that slid in my house against my will to drink my blood”. These examples show a link between the Ancient metaphorical speech, and the mythological allusions. Indeed, only the context can allow us to determine if these authors meant “viper” as a common name, or as a proper name: as “Viper”, “Echidna”. But it confirms the idea that, in Ancient Greece, Echidna is a monster born of an archaic fear of the women, and embodying their supposed perfidy.

[the-slumberparty]

𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕽𝖔𝖔 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙: 𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜’𝖘 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖘

For this challenge, we are asking you to use the rule of three. What does that mean?

In this case, it means you choose three of the tropes listed below the cut and create something with all three woven in. How you do so is entirely up to you. We are accepting both aesthetic and written pieces for this challenge.

As this is our October/Halloween challenge, we do hope that your work will have a creepy or suspenseful undertone, but by no means does it need to be pure horror. However, we do highly encourage supernatural elements and monsters and any creativity you come up with. 

This is a monthly event, with a final due date of November 5, 2023 for late submissions.

ℜ𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰:

🦇This challenge is open to all fandoms and characters

🔮Dark creations are accepted but we will not accept underage, incest, or bestiality. Please don’t forget to add warnings to your works appropriately.

🎃For written pieces, there are no word count limits, but we do ask that you add a “read more” beyond 500 words.

👻We hope that creators can create an inclusive work and encourage writers and creators to use appropriate tagging, ie, f!reader, etc..

🧛‍♀️For this challenge, we will not accept sequels or continuations to previous works. However, if you create a piece which can stand on its own within an existing AU or world, this can be submitted.

🧌Creators may submit three pieces of each medium (up to three visual pieces and up to three written pieces)

💀Be kind to yourself and to others. We are here to support and include each other.

🧙🏾‍♀️𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔰/𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔲𝔱🧙🏾‍♀️

An unwanted houseguest

A secret society of supernatural beings

College party gone wrong

The house from all the scary stories

A summoning game brings more than fun

A nightmare come to life

Caught trespassing on private property

A cursed item unearthed

Mirrors playing tricks on the mind

A secret room

The return of a villain thought dead

A new neighbour that keeps mysterious hours

Power outage

Art come to life

There’s something in the water

A strange attraction at the carnival

Space station with an uninvited passengers

Noises coming from the forest

A haunted attraction that has real ghosts

Small town with a dark secret

A doppelganger of yourself or someone you know

Mad scientist testing the bounds of humanity

A fairytale revealed to be a horror story

The monster luring you into in the basement

A parasite that feeds off others

Lost in a corn maze

A string of unexplained deaths

Evil doll come to life

Items moving and/or going missing

A character is dead all along

Bodily changes you cannot stop

[possessionisamyth]

Just finished reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (it's shorter than you think) only to come to the conclusion that all the tragedies involved could've been prevented via gay sex.

To completely shelve the fictional addict to real life addict comparisons people often make of the narrative, I am serious when I say Henry Jekyll having gay sex could've stopped the creation of Hyde.

Dr. Jekyll is an educated christian, british, white man in his middle age who is both unmarried and childless. He's well off, and by well off I mean he could take a year's vacation to Germany without much issue if he wanted. However, he's tired of his safe life and uses Hyde to embrace a darker, evil, and bestial side of himself. He wants to traverse around town in this state as he pleases but also mostly be left alone during this.

Two big reputation killers and scandal causers of the 1800s was murder and sodomy. Like sodomy was really bad unless it was treated extremely under the table. A wink wink nudge nudge if you know you know type of situation unless you didn't mind uplifting your entire life to move to a different city or country with the hope the rumors don't follow you.

If Dr. Jekyll with his scientific and social standing were to suddenly employ a handsome young man of good standing and countenance as an apprentice no one would bat an eye. The young man could travel to and from Dr. Jekyll's home freely and could also be summoned whenever there was something new to be "taught or studied". Whatever strange noises occurred behind closed doors could be brushed off since Jekyll is a chemist and they work with so many drugs.

Henry Jekyll could in secret engage in these sinful, "horrible", and pleasurable acts to satisfy the perceived evils within his heart. He could take his apprentice out to events or dalliances with colleagues and get a thrill from knowing the true nature of their relationship and his connections being none the wiser.

Another layer of secrecy is added because if the apprentice were even to consider blackmail by revealing the nature of their relationship, he'd be caught within his own trap of the sodomy crime. Besides, it's more likely he wouldn't as Henry would write in his will to give all his shit to his apprentice in the event of his death or disappearance. And I can make this assumption because in the book he gives all his money and possessions to Hyde and then rewrites it to give his stuff his lawyer. If that man had any estranged family, they weren't getting shit from him.

Not to "men be fighting demons and those demons is bisexuality" this theory, but the post nut clarity that comes with gay sex would not have only fixed Henry Jekyll, it also might've paved the way for some advancements in medicinal drug use.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

I love your Astarion work! I was curious if you could write a semi lengthy (if possible) angst/jealous Astarion x Tav/Reader??? Also hurt reader/Tav is always great too. I crave comfort lol

I hope you like it!

Rated: M

Warnings: spoilers for dark ending, transformation, vampiric

The manor is oppressive, heavy as if a ball and chain are leashed to your neck forcing you to bow, this place screams for submission. The want to give in, to let go, be controlled, dominated. It sickens you as Astarion guides you around the home of all his trauma. Naturally, you want to comfort him, hold his hand, and squeeze it to reassure him. However, this is not the time or place. The deeper you both travel into the bowels of Cazador’s palace, the heavier this weight is on your back, choking you as if you misbehaved.

Then came the cells. The sins of the past stabbed and twisted between Astarion’s ribs nicking his heart.

He is distant… You try to tell him this isn’t his fault, that Cazador is to blame. He was used just like they are.

The rules of being a vampire do not help as it is revealed what happened to Cazador’s master is part of the cycle to learn, adapt, and succeed. The rule of two where one will kill the other and repeat the cycle with another. The throne of blood you pray Astarion wants nothing to do with as he sees what is the cost of power.

The Black Mass is unholy and you silently pray to Lathander for his radiance to shine and burn that bastard Szarr to ashes.

Wishful thinking as the moment you enter the ritual chambers things go south, fast.

With now all seven of his spawn, he is strong-- Stronger and though using the spells and holy water do weaken him (barely), he is stronger than most foes.

"Perhaps after my ascension, I shall take your spawn friend as my own." The taunt is spoken during the battle as you struggle to keep up and your hirelings are spread out fighting the summoned bats, werewolves, and ghouls. The words are intended to be salt upon the wound as Astarion is helpless to fight against his master and this ritual. The screams do not help, the blood in the air does not help, and…

You… Are afraid.

This is too close to what happened to you, at the temple of Kanchelsis. Your master was pleased to watch as you writhed in agony as you turned into the beast you are. A vampire who shares the bestial madness of a werewolf.

Being tossed into a column like nothing as the vampire lord takes special interest in attacking you. Your body is in pain, bruises with internal bleeding, and the mental fear is keeping you on the ground struggling to get up. The laugh echoes, your vision blurring, and when you blink you… See your master standing above you with the bat-shaped head of the staff making you tilt your head up.

“Stay right there.”

He… He is going to win… He is going to ascend…

He is going to kill Astarion!

You must push on! Every muscle in your body protesting as you get up, your blood spilling as your form shifts to that beast, bigger, deformed, and grotesque. The whispers of the dark father in the back of your mind as you roared like a beast unleashed from its cage. Jaheira had been teaching you druidic magic as it seemed you had a talent for it. Seems that comes from the beast within, it hungers and Cazador looks like the perfect toy to chew on.

There is a cost, you know it, this power is tapping into the essence of vampirism. The beast, the hunger that comes with the gift and blessing of Kanchelsis; that cost you care not about, not now. No longer will you allow yourself to be chained down by the memories of the years of torture and abuse!

Astarion needs you, you need him, and you need each other.

Damn the cost! Damn this place, damn everything!

The beast roars with rage! An animal instinct as it recognizes Astarion as the mate, a mate in danger.

The slaughter is fighting to this bat-shaped form you are in, Cazador can’t keep up even in his mist form. When you try to rip his head off or attempt to fly and grab him; he knows how to flee.

“Scurry and scatter like rats!” Your voice is not your own, it is the beast that relishes in the hunt this lordling provides.

There are points when you blackout, in and out of a waking dream, then when the bloodlust no longer consumes your body and mind. Your body is back to normal but the wounds are worse, you need blood soon in order to properly heal.

“Wake up!”

Astarion. The sigh of relief hurts though it is being healed, well attempted to, away by the hireling cleric. Your eyes watch the scene of long-awaited and overdue revenge take place.

“I need your help.” His voice does not hide the desperation, the need.

This was your warning, you should have told him to stop or… You can’t raise a claw against him. There is too much between you to end it with steel or claw. So your eyes and mind are his to see through.

It is through those he seals his fate and the fate of seven thousand souls.

[another-lost-mc]

Thinking about mc summoning the boys from their shadow. Like it stretches out either in front of them or behind them. Levi slowly surfacing from the shadow like it's water. Or Satan literally crawling his way out of it. Grasping at the edges and lifting himself up out of mc's shadow.

Also for Lucifer I feel like he'd just step outside of mc's shadow slowly, maybe parting it like a curtain. As for asmo I feel like he'd reach his hands out first (maybe to grab onto MC or Solomon) as he pulls himself out of their shadow. For mammon he'd rise up or maybe a bunch of crows would surround the shadow until he appeared in a flurry of feathers.

For belphie I feel like he'd slowly melt out of mc's shadow. Like a blanket that's covering him. As for beel I think it'd be funny if his accidentally hit his head on the edge of mc's shadow if they're shorter than him.

It's getting late and words are kind of failing me right now, but I had some ideas about this sort of thing that didn't make it in the other post! if I can spit them out I'll add them to it later. Lemme see.

Lucifer I kind of imagined appearing in like a gust of wind behind a flurry of black feathers. He's flying slightly, hovering just off the ground behind MC. Even though the shadow forms are dark and generally void of colour, his eyes and gloves are still noticeably red.

I didn't really picture anything special for Mammon, but since he's so fast I could almost see him spawning at MC's feet and then sprinting past whatever it is that raised MC's hackles. The demon or whoever turns around and there's Mammon, crouched low and grinning with his fangs on display before he pounces.

No lie, I almost see Levi's form slowly rising like the shadow is black inky water, like you said. And it's so dark and obscure he almost looks like a naga emerging from the shadow until he steps forward and his tail uncoils itself from around his body.

I like the idea of Satan crawling out of the shadow, and the wispy shape of his feathered boa and his tail curling around his body makes him look bestial and menacing.

For Asmo, I think the first thing you notice is a soft, condescending chuckle. It's distorted and deeper, like an old audio recording. The next thing you notice is a pair of hands trailing over MC's shoulders—or around their waist—as he slowly wraps his arms around them from behind. He pulls MC against his chest and hooks his chin over their shoulder, eyes flaring and mouth widening in deadly amusement while he assesses his target. (Even if they try to run away, it's too late.)

Beel I almost picture him leaping out of the shadow and then hovering higher off the ground while his wings flap rapidly behind him, and then he's like a comet plummeting to the ground when he goes in for the attack.

Belphie is so slow and lazy, I see his pulling itself up from the ground by grabbing at MC's clothes, and then he yawns and leans against MC's back. He summons the specter then nuzzles against MC's neck or shoulder while the thing just obliterates whatever the threat was. lol

[intrepid-fictioneer-7]

One thing I find interesting about Waver's students is that a lot of them face similar issues of the possible loss/death of their identity and personality by way of being subsumed by a greater supernatural force.

Gray was raised as the vessel of King Arthur and everytime Artoria was summoned more of her body changes to become like her and erase who she was.

Flat is the conclusion of a 1,800-year plan in which the next step of human evolution secretly implanted within his family's Magic Crest would eventually take over his body.

Svin is more of a vessel for his magecraft than its user, and he is acutely aware that his Bestial Magecraft will eventually consume him and he will become a beast in truth. Already he has trouble remembering some of his past.

Ergo contains three gods within his body from consuming their flesh but because they are so much vaster than him, everytime he uses their powers it erases his memories to make more "space", and eventually the three gods will completely erase him. As of the latest novels, Ergo has even forgotten most of the first novel, including how he first met Rin.

I find that interesting. There's probably some link that could be made between this tendency and Waver and how his "Lord El-Melloi II" title has overtaken his "Waver Velvet" identity.

[adndmonsteraday]

Draegloths were half-demon, half-drow monstrosities. They were the progeny of coupling between a glabrezu and a newly ordained high priestess of the drow goddess Lolth.

“These drow house pets are as graceful and nimble as Waterdhavian stage dancers. Only they're slayers and enforcers, four-armed brutes built like an ogre. Life isn't fair.” — Volo

Draegloths came in several different forms, differentiated by a combination of gender and the species of their mother. The most common were male draegloths born to drow mothers; less common were female draegloths of drow heritage, who were known as "Favored Ones." Rarest still were draegloths that spawned when drider blood was mingled with that of demons via foul rituals; these were known as "Abominations."

Male draegloths were 7.5–8.0 feet (2.28–2.44 meters) tall. They had four arms: large claws on the upper arms and humanoid hands on the lower arms. Their faces were stretched so that they resembled those of dogs. Their skin was black and covered in a fine coat of white fur. They had a yellow-whitish mane of hair on their head.

Female draegloths were as tall as their brothers, but favored their drow ancestry; they looked mostly like a female drow, save for having two pairs of drow-like arms and a distinctly lupine cast to their features. Their fingernails and toenails were sharp and claw-like, but not so large as to interfere with spellcasting or delicate work.

Draegloth Abominations were the most bestial-looking of the draegloths. Their features included wicked claws, spider-like legs, and gnashing teeth. They had the ability to secrete webbing, which they used to tether foes and pull them into close quarters to be torn apart.

Draegloths were immune to poisons, as well as sleep-inducing spells and effects, and they were resistant to most elemental energy.

Draegloths were often seen as a sign of favor from Lolth. They were sacred creatures to the Lolthites and were usually treated with respect. Draegloths were perhaps the only variety of half-fiend that was created regularly and intentionally by a mortal race.

Female draegloths, due to their rarity, their greater intelligence, and their gender, were regarded with much more favor than their male counterparts in drow society, as evidenced by their title of "Favored Ones". Female draegloths were always adopted by the Church of Lolth and brought up as clerics to the Spider Goddess. Some draegloths trained as wizards.

Draegloth abominations had no society. They were uncontrollable monsters, so crazed for blood that even drow society couldn't tolerate them in its midst. Consequently, the usual practice was that soon after an abomination was born, the draegloth was ceremonially gifted to Lolth by being sent through a portal to the Demonweb Pits, where it became one of the many fiendish predators roaming that plane. When this did not happen, the abomination invariably brought ruin to its mother and all drow around it.

In the drow city of Menzoberranzan, part of the annual graduation ceremony of the Arach-Tinilith academy was the summoning of a glabrezu and the attempt to produce a draegloth. This succeeded about once a decade, and nearly always precipitated conflict as the drow house "blessed" with the half-fiend moved to strike against its rivals.

During the Silence of Lolth over 1372/1373 DR, some draegloths, formerly unquestionably loyal to the matriarchs, went off on their own, abandoning or even betraying their mothers and demanding equal status.

Source: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Draegloth

[volgeblaft]

Reference sheet of Shichiro! Inspired by the JJK character animation references ❤️

Realized I didn't include his grading, but he's a current grade 2, future grade 1 sorcerer(maybe eventually even special grade?)! Up until the point he is able to fully optimize his ability, he remains a grade 2, too held back by the scarring and exhaustion caused by his technique.

More about his cursed technique below the cut ✨

Cursed Technique: "Beastial Convergence"

Description:

"Bestial Convergence" is a formidable cursed technique that allows the user to partially or fully transform into a wolf-like beast. These transformations grant the user immense physical capabilities and specialized abilities. However, each transformation exacts a toll on the user's body, causing scarring and damage, particularly in areas where the cursed energy is most concentrated for the particular transformation. Partial transformations, the most used method, causes scarring around the wrists and ankles.

Key Features:

- Transformation States:

Partial Transformation: The user can selectively transform parts of their body, such as their arms, legs, or head, into those of the beast form. This state grants enhanced strength, speed, and heightened senses while maintaining some human characteristics for versatility in combat.

Full Transformation: The user completely transforms into a massive wolf-like beast. In this state, the user gains immense physical power, unmatched speed, and feral instincts, but at the cost of higher energy expenditure and more significant physical damage.

- Enhanced Abilities:

Strength and Speed: Both partial and full transformations grant the user superhuman strength and speed. For example, partial transformation of the feet grants heightened speed and jumping abilities, while partial hand transformation grants heightened strength and damage.

Heightened Senses: Transformations enhance the user's senses, allowing them to see in the dark, detect scents over vast distances, and hear minute sounds, making them formidable trackers and hunters.

Drawbacks and Scarring:

Energy Cost: Each transformation requires a significant amount of cursed energy, proportional to the level of the beast form taken. The higher the energy expended, the more severe the physical toll on the user's body.

Scarring: High-energy parts of the body, such as the arms, legs, chest and back, develop deep scars after each transformation. These scars accumulate over time, marking the user with a distinctive pattern of eye-shaped injuries. However, if treated quickly with RCT, the damage can be minimized post-transformation.

Pain and Exhaustion: Transforming causes pain, and prolonged use can lead to severe exhaustion. The user must carefully manage their energy and transformation duration to avoid incapacitation.

Special Techniques:

Feral Rush: The user channels their cursed energy to temporarily boost their speed and agility, allowing them to move in short bursts of incredible velocity, making them a blur to the naked eye.

Hunting Instinct: The user temporarily heightens their senses to track and predict the movements of their prey, making them exceptionally difficult to evade.

Pack Call: The user can summon spectral beasts made of cursed energy to aid in battle. These spectral beasts are not as strong as the user but can overwhelm opponents through sheer numbers and coordinated attacks.

Strategic Use:

The user must balance the power gained from transformation with the damage it causes. Strategic planning and precise execution are crucial to maximizing the benefits while minimizing the drawbacks.

The scars serve as both a testament to the user's resilience and a reminder of the cost of their power, shaping their fighting style and approach to combat.

"Beastial Convergence" is a cursed technique that embodies the primal power and versatility of the animal kingdom, granting the user a range of formidable abilities at the price of their own physical well-being. The technique's effectiveness lies in the user's ability to adapt their beast form to the demands of the battle, making them a fearsome and unpredictable opponent.

Domain Expansion: "Whispering haunt"

Description:

The Domain Expansion "Whispering haunt" transports the target into a haunting, foggy forest of birch trees. The atmosphere is perpetually dark, with an eerie luminescence that only heightens the sense of dread. The birch trees, tall and slender, are covered in ghostly white bark, each one marked with sinister eye patterns that seem to come alive, following every movement of the target.

Key Features:

- Environment:

The ground is soft and damp, muffling footsteps and adding to the sense of isolation.

A thick, cold fog clings to the ground, obscuring vision and creating an oppressive atmosphere.

The air is filled with faint whispers and unsettling rustling sounds, as if the forest itself is alive and aware.

- Sure-Hit Attacks:

Claws from the Trees: The birch trees can suddenly sprout long, sharp claws from their trunks. These claws are as hard as steel and move with terrifying speed, aiming to slash and tear at the target.

Maws of the Forest: The trees can also open wide maws filled with jagged, splintered teeth. These maws can appear on any part of the trees and will snap shut with a vicious bite, attempting to maim or consume the target.

Sentient Surveillance:

The eye markings on the trees are not just decorative; they actively follow the target's movements. They can detect even the slightest shift, ensuring there is no place to hide within the domain.

The eyes can also communicate silently with the claws and maws, synchronizing attacks to corner and overwhelm the target.

Psychological Warfare:

The whispers in the air are not just random noises; they carry taunting messages, preying on the target's fears and insecurities.

The fog can occasionally take on the shape of ghostly figures, adding to the psychological torment by creating the illusion of additional threats.

Escape Mechanism:

The only way to escape the "Whispering haunt" is to break the caster's concentration or defeat them directly. The domain is a manifestation of the caster's cursed energy, and as long as they maintain it, the forest remains an inescapable nightmare.

This Domain Expansion is designed to disorient and terrorize its target, combining physical attacks with psychological horror to create a relentless and inescapable assault.

(AI used to further work out the writing. Basic ideas were made fully by me, text edited by me.)

If you came this far, the reason he likes camping and hiking is specifically for the quiet and calm. He prefers going completely by himself. He's very sensitive to stimulants, and the city life definitely overstimulates his senses. Eventually, in the future, he goes AWOL and kinda disappears into the mountains for a while. Little fun fact as a treat ✨❤️

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

A Life Bartered Part 1

Parker Selfridge held his head as his elbows were on his table. This shit was going out of control. Ain't this a bitch?

Navis found out where the base was. They started attacking and stealing the drones, choppers and other stuff in the parking lot.

All because of the Helen of Troy. Name and Last Name.

Many letters were sent ordering him to give you to the Navi or they will not ceasefire. Selfridge would easily give you to those savages. But, there was one problem. You were the love interest of the head of security.

Of all people.

He summoned the Colonel to his office.

The said man was annoyed being called on. He was on his break lifting weights and was interrupted. He arrived to the office wearing a tank top.

What happened now? More savage attacks and thefts?

Parker looked at the Colonel's eyes and gulped. Selfridge was scared of his own employee. But he refused to show it.

"Another letter asking for her. For the sake of the staff. Give her up."

The colonel tensed and clenched his jaw.

"it's your job as head of security to protect us all. This girl is using her looks to sway you for favors for the labs. Isn't that right?'

The Colonel bitterly knew you spread your former virgin legs for him to benefit that hippie loving program. Using your beauty for a list of wants.

The colonel didn't admit it. But, he loved you. He knew you didn't. He caught you staring at a young man who was a limp dick scientist. The young man was handsome .

The Colonel admitted he sometimes felt insecure of his age. He was perhaps the oldest man in the base and he was with the youngest staff member in base. A fresh new adult.

He thought he hit the jackpot when you offered yourself to him. Sadly, he forgot the rule of life despite preaching the rules of Pandora.

There is no free lunch.

Your beauty must have caught the eye of a blue monkey.

The colonel smelled bestiality.

Ain't this a bitch?

He sighed exhausted and pinched the bridge of his straight nose.

Will he give you up? His subordinates' lives were at stake. His honor and independence as a man too. He was ashamed of being looked down by others as weak for a damn woman.

Pushing feelings aside he listed the pros and cons. You were a sex crazed seductress. Made for carnal desire. A devil in disguise. Unhealthy for any man.

A gold digging whore.

You will never love him. He bitterly accepted the painful truth. He tried to win you over. Acting romantic so you can open your heart and then give it to him.

You took his heart instead. A fuckin' thief.

He nodded.

"I can do that."

...........................

The Colonel announced he will take you to another field trip in the jungle. Selfridge communicated with the enemy and was given the instructions on where to drop you off.

You didn't know what was going on.

The colonel acted strange.

Of course the Colonel would have his way with you every night. Normally, he would sleep with you then wake up early and leave before you woke up.

Today, He slept in with you this morning. He then fucked you again. Like he wasn't going to see you again.

He looked sad. After he rolled off of you last night, he gathered you close to lay your head on his muscular chest.

He placed his chin on top of your head and stroked your arm.

Normally, he wouldn't shut up. He would talk about his hate towards the Navis and his boss.

And insult your group of friends. if he had extra energy after sex, he would talk about his remaining living relatives in Europe.

You didn't love him. So, you didn't bother to ask what was wrong.

You hated him because he would persuade the boss to cut the funding. You bitterly found out he planned this to get you to warm his bed. A cunning snake.

The Colonel and his squad walked deep in the jungle with you following them.

The Colonel turned to you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you down to sit on the grass.

You looked up at his standing form from your sitting position with curiosity.

Fuck. Those damn eyes. So cute and innocent.

No, you weren't innocent.

You used your beauty to sway people to get what you want like a spoiled brat. Succubus.

He felt foolish falling under your spell and charms.

He reached out and itched the side of your right scalp. You almost purred in pleasure. The Colonel crouched down on his knees and did it.

In front of his men. He inhaled a breath and removed his mask then gently grabbed your face then kissed you square in the face.

The squad stared awkwardly.

They didn't know what was going on either. Only Lyle. He looked at you with pity. Poor girl.

The colonel finally separated himself then strapped his mask back on and without looking at you, he stood up and began to walk away.

His squad followed leaving you alone.

You stared confused. Then you heard it. Whoops and yips came and a group of warrior Navi men started walking to you. You stood up scared. The chopper suddenly floated up and left.

A Navi warrior walked up to you. You tried to run. But he grabbed your arm easily. "you are finally mine. My prize."

No. You realized the truth. Suddenly you wished for the Colonel to rescue you. But, it's too late. He left you.

Vulnerable and helpless. This was your punishment. You suspected that the Colonel might actually loved you. But you were only with him for benefits.

Now, this is what you get for playing with ones feelings and breaking his heart

The Colonel silently walked to his room. He ignored all eyes and didn't give an order. The squad usually talked and joked. But now were quiet.

The princess is gone.

The Colonel sat on his bed then stared around the room. Your lovely scent still lingered. Your photos in picture frames on top of his dresser.

He covered his face with his hands with his elbows on his knees. He let himself actually shed tears.

What has he done?

A Life Bartered Part 2

The ten foot adult Male Navi named Ebe stared solemnly at your miserable form. You were still in bed? In the afternoon? The Navi man knew humans were different, especially human females. So, he made a nest filled with soft grass and plants under soft fabric to let you rest. You seemed to have taken a liking to it. Too much. 

He frowned in annoyance. Ebe would stalk you at the base with the stolen cameras the clan would use. They killed soldiers trying to invade their land. In return, the Navi warriors would use their remaining devices. Being quick learners, they knew how to operate guns, cameras and some basic computer skills. 

But, thanks to those dream walkers, Ebe and Tsuey especially took advantage to learn English. That Jake Sully and Doctor Augustine somewhat helped. 

But you… you were a pain in the ass! You would mope and sob. Ebe knew it would be hard but it has been two months and a week. He tried to seduce you with feathery touches and gift giving. 

Like the stuck up snob you were. You refused and hid away. 

Growling, he grabbed your arm hard and made you look at him. He squeezed your cheeks hard with his thumb and forefinger. "I have done so much kindness. Why are you ungrateful!" He yelled. You flinched and whimpered. New batch of hot tears leaked out your shining yet melancholic eyes.

You bit your fat red lips to prevent hiccups from escaping. "Please set me free." You whispered in desperation.

The golden yellow eyes of Ebe darkened. He looked as if you said the most offensive bad word to him. The sting in your cheek burnt like a laundry ironer. You fell down on the grass floor. You flinched when you tried to touch your bruised face. 

The Navi's chest was heaving and his breath was noticeably ragged. He knelt to your level. He yanked your long shining hair to look at him once more. "I used so much of my strength to obtain you from the other demons. Your kind killed many brothers of mine. You are my gift of repentance. Mine." 

You lowered your eyes in submission and nodded meekly. Ebe noticed your defeated expression then stood up to his full length and left you wallowing in self pity. 

You sighed and then took out your cell phone. You haven't used it since you got captured by Ebe. It had 47 percent left. You then gulped. You knew you would never see the Colonel again. 

But, he was so kind to you. Sure, he abused his power to almost shut the Avatar Research Program. And you had to sleep with him for money. Just as he planned. 

But other than that, he was kind and romantic. He spoiled you like a Princess. He called you endearing names. Doll, Princess, Kitten and playfully call you Brat. 

He was rough in bed and displaying affection you admitted it. He luckily never degraded you. Like hair pulling and choking. You hated that. He slammed inside you hard but roughly inserting himself inside you. And in public would kiss you hard and out of nowhere in random times and places. 

Like he was purposely showing other men you were his. Especially in front of Selfridge. There were times you assumed Selfirdge liked you. 

But, since he would look bad by the press for dating an employee. He couldn't be with you. The Colonel knew about Selfridge's feelings. So, he purposely marked you in front of his limp dick boss. 

Maybe that was why Selfridge would yell at you in public Infront of other staff when he was in a bad mood. Like a child, he would knock what you were holding down the hallways. And he would magically bump into you to scrutinize then threaten to fire you. 

You had enough. You snitched to the Colonel. And to your surprise, he looked pissed. He immediately walked past your shoulder. You returned to the shared room with the Colonel. 

He entered when it was his lunch break and didn't say anything as you served him his meal. You gulped but stayed silent and acted normal. 

You then heard whispers. The Colonel put his hands on Selfridge by almost choking him blue. Trudy told you that the Colonel walked to the big boss and demanded him to stay away from you. Selfridge threatened the Colonel by the law. 

Quaritch snapped when Selfridge kicked him by stating the huge age gap between you and the Colonel.

It was nice. Selfridge stopped speaking with you. And when you saw him. He would glare but not talk. Which was fine. 

Yet here you were. Your Karma. Fuck. You broke a good man's heart. You were prejudiced against Marines. But, you now realized despite being tough, the Colonel was fair and just. He took his job seriously. 

And since that Simp Selfridge was talentless, Quaritch had to do his duties as well and correct his mistakes. The Colonel must have been stressed before he met you. 

Come to think of it, you frowned in confusion. Whenever Quaritch was finished bedding you. He fell asleep as if he was exhausted to the tea. 

You checked the text messages. You saw text messages from your science friends. Asking about you. But they were old messages. From two months ago. 

You couldn't redeem yourself for your wrong doings. You at least should try to comfort the Colonel. I love you. Forgive me.

You sent the text and turned off the cell phone.

Ebe came back. He was holding a leaf full of cooked food.

You walked to him and Ebe watched you warily. It was time to accept your fated punishment. You extended your hand and touched his smooth blue face. He looked surprised but didn't push you away from your touch. 

"Please forgive me." You put on a fake smile. "I was sad because I was afraid you would eventually kill me."

Ebe gently placed the banana leaf on the ground. He held your face and stroked your cheek with one of his thumbs. "I would never dream of taking your life. I want to mate with you during the next Solar Eclipse festival."

You licked your lips in nervousness. The Navi saw that beautiful action. He assumed you tried to seduce him. He picked you up to look at him at his level. Then he kissed you. You out of fear kissed back. Your heart felt guilty that you were thinking of Quaritch. 

But, you were to be punished for your sins. Maybe mating with the Navi will make peace between two peoples.

The happy Ebe made you sit and before you could open your mouth wide to the food he wanted you to chew. You clutched your mouth. Ebe looked at you in curiosity. You ran away from him to vomit onto a small useless green bush. Ebe ran to hold your long hair back. 

"Why are you sick, my lovely?"

Ebe made you drink water. You told him when you have a small flu when cold, it happens. Ebe sighed. "I forgot how human women are prone to illness due to their fragility. I am a fool." He picked you up to make you lay on his lap after crossing his legs. 

Meanwhile, at the base. Quaritch was lifting weights at the gym. He heard his cellphone make a notification sound. He wondered who dared to interrupt him. Selfridge was taking his afternoon nap. Scoffing. The Colonel abandoned his dumbbell weights and picked up his cellphone. His eyes widened in shock at your ID. 

He read your apology and love confession. The Colonel felt something foreign in his chest. A beautiful feeling. As if his heart would leap out of his muscular chest. He decided then and there.

He will get you back. Fuck Diplomacy. The Rules of Pandora. Kill everything that moves with fire.

And that's a fact. 

Warnings: Smut, Older man and younger woman, huge age gap, unhealthy love from men and Navi men. Foul Language. Attempt to impregnate. Painful Sex.

Four more nights till you will tie the knot to the Navi who 'won' you. To be Mated with Ebe. As to be his wife. Married and to bear his children. 

You gulped. Was it even possible for an advanced human being such as yourself and a Navi male to produce half breeds? 

Being a woman with natural maternal affection, you knew you would love any and all of your future children. You just wished your future babies would be sired by your ex lover. The Head of Security. 

You blew an exhale of loneliness. You still had little battery life left in your cell phone. You wished you took pictures of your handsome “boyfriend”. 

Or whatever he was to you. He treated you like his wife. But, because of your bitchy attitude, it was one sided. And he must have known.

You sometimes caught his hurt expressions when you didn't heed to his affectionate touches or gave him half assed responses. 

You resented him for abusing his power to get you into his bed for money. 

Come to think of it, you furrowed your brows in concentration. He didn't apologize to you after giving yourself in to get the funds back for the program, but he did more than his side of the bargain. 

His soldiers would accompany the other scientists in the wild jungle to study plants and gather resources. The cafeteria received more quality food. The heating system got upgraded. Nice hot showers and heated air made the science bunks and labs cozy and comfortable. 

And you, you got the lion share. You got the highest qualities of makeup, perfume, designer clothes from the magazine orders sent to and from Earth when supplies come in. 

And not only that. The Colonel would voluntarily brush your long hair whenever he was free from work or gym. And for some reason he was fascinated with your feet. He once complimented how tiny they were. He would always massage them.  But best of all, you liked his stares. When you applied makeup on the vanity mirror desk he ordered when you moved into his room. He would sit on his bed. 

And watch you doll yourself up. He would lick his lips and look as if he was in pain. You found it amusing. Then eventually, he would always ruin your lipstick. He would look as if someone punched him in the mouth.

He would use soap and water to scrub your lipstain off his face. But, removing makeup was not easy. So, some staff noticed. But, they were too scared to tease their superior. 

You smiled at the memory and stared at the stars of Pandora. You wondered if Quaritch was looking outside too. But, sadly, with all his work, gym, and extra work correcting the mistakes Selfridge would make. You assumed he was asleep and exhausted. 

That poor man. 

You treated him like shit. 

You felt like a homewrecker. 

A bad woman. 

You looked at Ebe’s sleeping form. He didn't rape you. Not yet. You were lucky. He was waiting for the wedding night. Maybe, you should be kind to Ebe. He seemed to love you like how Quaritch did. He is ugly. But, maybe he looked ugly to you because you loved and missed the Colonel. 

Closing your eyes you yearned to see the handsome face you took for granted. You hoped and wondered if the Colonel had pictures of you on his phone.

You dismissed it immediately. Even if he did have pictures of you, he probably deleted it. You don't deserve him. 

“Good bye, My Love.” You whispered as you stared at the dark sky. 

…………

The Colonel walked up to the quarters of his trusted sidekick, Corporal Lyle Wainfleet of his Marine Squad.

He remembered a crucial detail of you. He caught you talking and giggling with that female pilot that worked with Lyle. Judging by how many times you socialized with her, the Colonel assumed you two were close friends. Not as close as Grace. Better than nothing. 

The harsh knock made a grumpy Lyle open the door with a mean look in his face. He was about to cuss out whoever woke him. Then he straightened when he saw his superior. 

“Colonel?”

“Your pilot is a personal friend of Name, right?”

Lyle was taken back at the mention of your name. Since those Savages took you, no one dared to utter your name in the Colonel's presence. 

After affirming the Colonel's question. The blonde man felt less tense and actually happy since that text you sent him. 

Lyle missed you. He hardly spoke to you much. Besides greetings and how orders the Colonel gave him to you like to meet him somewhere or go to his office. 

Lyle couldn't not notice not only your beauty but your personality and intelligence. He was smitten and jealous that the Colonel got to you first. But, you knew that the Colonel would steal you from him even if he didn't meet you before him. 

Lyle guessed you were not fated to be with him. 

Lucky bastard. 

“Get that Pilot. We will get Name back. Only the three of us know.”

“Yes, Sir.” The Corporal wasted no time. Lyle was scared that you were perhaps either dead or almost dead after being raped. There is no way a pretty face like yours can't get taken advantage of. Navi or human. You were just that beautiful. 

He still pitied you. 

…………

Trudy was the same way when Wainfleet knocked on her door in the middle of the night. She was about to yell but Wainfleet whispered harshly and explained the rescue mission. Trudy was ecstatic. 

Since Trudy was dating Norm, she knew the situation. That you were forced to be with the Colonel. And an evil Navi warrior wanted you.

She knew like all beings not all are totally bad or good. But the Navi man who took you. Damn, she hated him. He was no better than Quaritch. 

Trudy dressed up in her pilot suit and jogged with the armed Wainfleet to her chopper waiting for them was the tough man Quaritch. 

He was ready with his mask and machine gun.

Shit will go down.

Quaritch printed the tracking area code and picture of where you were located by his cellphone. 

He gave the paper to Trudy. Starting the chopper, they finally set off. 

The Warrior out to save the damsel in distress. 

………

Trudy landed the chopper away from the intended area as the orders of the Colonel. Lyle and Quaritch jumped off the plane with their guns ready to kill. The night vision built in his mask indicated body warmth of two individuals. A Navi and a human sleeping under the abyss tree. 

It must be her. 

Colonel Quaritch nodded to Lyle. Taking the cue, Lyle threw the grenade to the far left of the field and it landed on a plant that had some kind of nest. Like a hornet nest. 

Boom. 

The flame engulfed the grass and the yells of those damn savages made Lyle and the Colonel crouch down to hide. The same ugly ass Navi came from under the Tree and was yelling in his native tongue.

Then Quaritch saw you. You came out obviously in shock from the commotion. Your eyes widened at the awful site. Fire burning the beautiful shrubbery and plants of the area. 

What a shame. While feeling sorry for the lost wildlife. A hand covered your mouth. You were too unhealthy to struggle. You then turned to see the man you are aching for.

It was dark for you to see. But the fire showed some light. It was him. 

He let go of you. You stared in disbelief as he put his finger to his lips and picked you up bridal style. 

He ran to the chopper and he made you sit next to his seat before strapping you. He frowned when he noticed how even lighter you were in his arms. You lost too much weight. Were you even fed? That monkey probably tortured you. 

Quaritch clenched his teeth with rage. Lyle hopped in and quickly ordered Trudy to go. The Colonel noticed your shivering form. He took off his Marine jacket and covered you. He held you close. He tucked you underneath his chin and wrapped his arms around you. 

You couldn't hold it in. You burst into sobs. The Colonel felt his tank top wet. “I thought you were dead.”

You mumbled. “ Might as well.”

The Colonel heard it clear then sighed. 

Lyle, on the other hand, watched the two of you with pity.

 He was also impressed by you too. He expected you to be haggard. You looked perfect as ever. Just sad and sick. Too skinny. Your hair was still glossy with no flyaways or frizz. 

 And your skin looked like it was filtered with Photoshop. With your blood red lips and pink cheeks you still had your natural makeup.

The oversized nightgown made you look oddly cute. But it was thin as fuck. The white dress was too big and not your size. Looked like the Navi who demanded you must have stolen the fabric materials when the cargo that arrived from Earth was to be sent to the base. 

The chopper landed on the parking lot and Trudy waited for you to come out of your seat. The Colonel hopped out then grabbed your lithe hand and settled you to the firm ground. Trudy didn't hesitate to engulf you in a hug.

The Colonel and Corporal Wainfleet watched you hug back. Shaking his head, the Colonel had to return his weapons to the supply room. He ordered you to be sent to his room. Quaritch gave his room key to Trudy. 

Quietly as mice, you and your friend snuck inside the luxurious room of the Colonel. You noticed how there were broken furniture and holes on the wall. 

Trudy wasted no time turning on the hot shower. You didn't want to further burden your friend, so you did your best to shampoo your long hair and use soap on your body. 

You forgot how long you were taken away by Ebe but you didn't want to know. It felt like years. Time went so slow. It was nice now. You felt a little invincible. You cheated death and escaped the true punishment of your wicked crimes against the Colonel.

You sure dodged a bullet. After that, Trudy wrapped you with the Colonel's shower towel and led you to his bed. You didn't notice but all your items were still in his room. 

Your clothes, books, makeup, everything. The Colonel gave the cat equivalent pet he caught for you to the science pukes. Obviously, he couldn't take care of it. He wasn't cruel to starve an animal. 

Those science bitches seemed to be thrilled to have that weird creature. Not that he was complaining. Quaritch didn't admit it, he was jealous that you showed more affection to that pet than to him before he gave you up. 

“You may leave.”

Both women's heads turned to see the Colonel in the doorway without his combat gear. Trudy stood up but stopped when Quaritch held out a paper. 

Turned out it was a check. You saw your friend's eyes widened as she read it. Must been a large sum of money. Trudy thanked Quaritch and disappeared. 

You looked confused. Quaritch said nothing. He stripped himself and threw his clothes to the floor. 

Sitting next to you, you didn't say anything when he brushed your long wet tresses. Like old times,  He would stop and sniff them by gently grabbing the ends of your hair to his nose then continue brushing.

He finished and laid down on the bed and made you rest on top of him. You cling to him like a wounded animal. Quaritch felt you shaking and still cold. He wrapped your lithe frame closer to his heated body. 

“Were you …?” 

The Colonel couldn't bring himself to say it. You said not yet. The blonde man blew an exhale. That blue monkey was so lucky. If he did rape you. The Colonel would have made you go to the doctor regardless of being seen. And check if you were pregnant with a half breed.

And squash that fetus beneath his foot. 

But, that fuckin’ Navi was planning on it and wanted to. The Colonel decided to not give him that bad of a painful death. 

Noticing how still you were. He peeked down to see you asleep. What a night. 

Corporal Wainfleet punched in the ticket for his superior . He announced to the staff today was the Colonel’s day off.

Quaritch didn't care what time it was when he woke from his peaceful slumber. He felt light as a feather.

He stroked your long (hair type) hair as you continued your slumber. You were still as a rock. Damn. You must have been really tired. Normally, you would toss and turn around nine times in bed.

With pity in his eyes the Colonel watched you breathe in and out. He wondered if you ever dreamed of him like he did of you. Or even thought of him.  But, the memory of you texting him confirmed his curiosity. He screenshot your message and saved it to his photos on his cellphone.

Gently, he removed himself from your grip and off the bed. He hurriedly showered and dressed in his uniform to enter the Marine cafeteria. 

He as usual was greeted with respect but he didn't want to look suspicious. He hoped no one would notice him gathering extra food to his tray. 

He normally wouldn't eat luxurious food. Luxury makes a man weak to be lazy and pathetic. But, you lost so much damn weight and feared you might be sick. 

He will go to the hospital wing and his own personal doctor will check you. 

Quaritch will swore him to secrecy through bribes and also threats. As a Marine, you are to never trust no one. Unless proven greatly otherwise. 

Like you. Quaritch didn't trust you before but now. He knew you changed. 

He forgave you. 

It was no surprise you were still sleeping. He placed the tray on his table and then leaned down to dip his face. He kissed your cheek and gently rubbed your shoulders. 

You stirred and opened your lovely eyes in confusion before blinking. It was cute. You looked surprised to see him and looked around your area. The Colonel smirked. He made you sit up before wrapping his bathrobe around you. 

He cut the Salisbury steak and pressed the fork to your lips. You were confused. You didn't eat meat. But, you knew the reason. If the Colonel got only plant based food for you. It would look suspicious. You assumed you were to be hidden until further notice. 

And you needed muscles and gain weight. 

You let him feed you like a toddler. You remembered how he ordered you to feed him while “dating” him. 

He would tease you calling you his tradwife.

You felt offended and labeled him a toxic masculine man. Now, you realized you were foolish to not understand he was joking and you were the one toxic. A crazy witch.

As mentioned before, the Colonel would massage your feet whenever he had free time and brush your hair. Most important, he would take care of you when you were on your period and voluntarily feed you.

You cooked and cleaned out of duty but that was it. Few times he made you feed him and you complained. The colonel noticed your attitude then stopped asking you to feed him and other affectionate gestures. He became grumpy. He wanted you to act like a real girlfriend but was meeting him half way in the relationship. Like you didn't want it to work.

It reminded him again you were forced to be with him for the sake of the avatar program.

It added more guilt inside your chest. He didn't say if he forgave you or not. Then again, you apologized in the text and not in person. 

You wanted to say sorry in person but the Colonel continued feeding you. He then took a few bites himself from the same fork and made you drink water. When you watched him drink from the same glass after you. 

You felt… flattered. It was intimate without being sexual. Like real romance rather than superficial lust.

You blushed but sadly Quaritch didn't notice. He was too worried for you. 

Ebe tried to feed you but you would always vomit your food later. Maybe it's because you would feel hopeless and sob later. 

Now that you are much happier. You could stomach the delicious food. You may not eat meat due to pitying the animals, but you cannot deny it tastes good. 

You would cook meat dishes for the Colonel at the base and your family while on Earth. And to be precise, you would taste your own food to make sure it tastes good. Meat or not. 

The Colonel knew you were trying your best to not complain about eating. He set the plate away then caressed your cheekbone. 

You looked at him confused. Quaritch explained his doctor will secretly come here to check you up. No one is to know of you. 

So it's true. You realized that the Colonel acted on his own to rescue you. If Selfridge found out…

There was a hesitant knock. The Colonel knew that voice. A middle aged man walked in with a medic bag. Like the old days, this doctor visited you instead.

The Colonel stood back with his arms crossed and leaning against the wall and watched the doctor examine you. 

“She is malnourished.” The doctor looked over his shoulder at the Colonel. “She needs a blood transfusion.”

Quaritch nodded. “I will give her my blood.” He didn't hesitate.

The doctor then looked at you. He asked if you ever knew you were pregnant before. 

Your eyes widened and the Colonel kept his calm face but was also surprised inside. 

“I am afraid you lost weight not only from starvation but miscarriage.”

You couldn't help it. You clutched your face and began to cry quietly. That explained you always vomiting in the jungle. The moodiness. 

You remembered your last period. It was more painful than usual. And you felt weird when bathing. Ebe gave you a bucket to wash yourself. While doing so, you felt like something slide off between your legs when cleaning. 

No. 

Your poor baby.

Damn you. It was your fault. 

The Colonel's breath hitched. No doubt that baby was his. After fucking you last before giving you up, you didn't pack anything. Including your pills. 

He killed his own child. Damn him. It was all his fault. 

The Colonel watched you sob he wanted to punch the wall again and make another hole. 

“I will prescribe her depression and insomnia pills.”

The doctor stood up and whispered to the Colonel.

He said he suspected you to be suicidal and should be under all supervision.

The doctor left. Quaritch had a hazed look in his beautiful blue eyes. The doctor will return to start the blood transfer process by bringing the tubes and syringes.

The Colonel made sure to heat up the room even more. He sat next to you after dressing you up in your skirt and blouse. He didn't dress you in your underwear. He was sad as you were to care. While waiting for the doctor to return, the Colonel grabbed your hand and kissed your cold delicate fingers.

It used to be the opposite. He was always the cold one and it would compliment against your warm feathery touches. A knock came again and the doctor started the process. 

Quaritch made sure you got extra blood but the doctor said he cannot do it all at once. Daily with regular transfusion and healthy eating and sunshine will make you good as new again. 

But, since you were a mutant. It will make you recover quicker. Being alone finally, the Colonel stroked your hair. 

“You're very young, and a mutant. You conceived because you didn't pack your pills and missed them for one day. It's impossible to not get knocked up again.” He tried to cheer you up.

You looked out the window. Then looked back at him with more tears. You told him how none of your future pregnancies can replace any child you lost before.

The Colonel said nothing about your answer. He kept his face to the normal stern look. Inside though, he felt warm by your morally right response. He was right about you all along. You didn't show it at first, being a spoiled brat. Rude to him too. 

Maybe it was because he scared you to run to him at first when he almost shut the program. Not to mention, people stereotyped you all your life for always being the most beautiful girl. Assuming you had an easy life and were a snob. 

The Colonel said nothing. He gently made you lay down on the bed and he hovered over you with his biceps caging you and he finally kissed you since the farewell kiss at the fields where he dropped you off. 

He couldn't kiss you with that damn mask he was wearing when he rescued you. 

You felt his callused hands hold your face against his. He immediately snuck his tongue inside and to his surprise, you responded and was bat shit crazy for him as he was for you. You must have been hungry. 

Continuing kissing you. He kicked off his trousers and boxers. He then trailed his lips against your neck. He gently bit you. Then sucked the bruise. He knew you also wanted the same. 

The Colonel moved out of your reach and looked down at your form.

He sighed and shook his head. If someone saw his neck, it would be suspicious. You huffed in disappointment. The Colonel gave you an apologetic look. He removed his tank top. Being bare and ready. He began attacking your perky tits. 

You were so impatient. And he knew it. He wanted to suck your cunt. But to hell with it. Later. He sheathed his cock inside and bullied his shaft inside your wet hole.

He groaned in pain. He knew you didn't get laid in almost three months. But, this is torturous. It was like you were raping him. You looked at him with worry. Quaritch ignored you and dug inside deeper to loosen you up.

Finally, all his inches went inside. Already you felt your juices overflowing your womanhood.

He must have stopped masturbating. You wondered why. 

Moans of pain and not pleasure escaped your fat lips and your nails dug in the shoulder of your lover. You hissed in pain. “Please slow down.”

Quaritch cursed again. “If I stop you will be even tighter before tomorrow.”

Having sex after months of celibacy was hell. Oh, well. As long as you don't get raped. You won't complain. 

“Oh, my fucking God.” The Colonel clenched his jaw. 

Quaritch saw the blood coming out of your vagina. It was working. Hopefully next time it will be easier. He needs to loosen the stronghold clutches of your cunt. 

The Colonel cummed inside and spilled his hot seed. His and your breathings were ragged. With great difficulty, Quaritch slowly pulled out from your greedy vagina. His dick was swollen and red from the pain and not from the blood. 

Damn. That was painful as fuck. It was like his penis was about to explode from the harsh friction. 

He didn't blame you and shouldn't complain. He laid back on the bed next to you catching his breath. He pulled you to his muscular chest.

“We’ll try again.”

You let out a “hmm” as you clung to him. You went back to sleep. Quaritch kissed your nose then closed his eyes again.

Who knows what tomorrow may bring. 

Author's Note. I am so mad! My masterlist for this story got deleted by tumblr for the explicit sex scene. I do not know why. I went through so much trouble to scroll down my blog for this story. I am scared my account will get terminated. I read worse yandere sex scenes and their blog did not get deleted. I am scared.

[sleepyheadnat]

Burn, burn out, heal and return

Fandom: The Brothers Karamazov Word count: 2908 An idea of what the brothers's future after the end of the novel might have been like (Mitya-centric).

Alyosha stepped out of the train in Siberia just in time to be hit in the face by a harsh gust of the iciest icy wind of his entire life. He adjusted his scarf around his mouth and nose and went on his way among the very much deserted streets of the countryside, stopping anyone he did find along the way to ask for directions to the address he held tightly in his hand. His heart thundered in his chest the nearer he got to his destination—euphoric giddiness and dreadful uncertainty fighting to seize his heart.

Finally, he made it. Alyosha compared the address scribbled in his handwriting against the one of the house in front of him for what felt like a thousand times before deciding that this was it. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Alyosha crossed the dirt pathway from the gate to the front door of the old, but well taken care of house. With another deep breather, Alyosha knocked on the door and waited. And waited. And each second killed him as he debated what he would do if it did not open and what would he do if it did open.

It opened. A small girl, no older than nine, was the one to greet Alyosha. She kept the door half closed, open just wide enough so that she could look up at him with deep blue eyes. Blond curls fell on her small shoulders and her expression was one of rehearsed seriousness—who was this strange man and what did he want?

Alyosha stared dumbly at the child for a whole minute. His mind was reeling—had he gotten the wrong house? Because if he hadn't…

"Excuse me, child," he found his voice and his smile, "are your parents home?"

She stared at him for a moment longer before closing the door on his face. Before Alyosha could think of knocking again, though, he heard the little voice calling a, "Papa, someone's at the door for you," and a man's voice answering.

The man's voice nearly brought Alyosha to his knees and it effectively brought hot tears to his eyes.

The door opened violently and the man to emerge from the house was a fearsome thing to behold. Tall, strong in build, with an angry glare ready to impose and fight—and win—anyone and anything.

In that raging, almost bestial man, Alyosha recognized his treasured, beloved older brother. And as the man's expression turned to one of surprise, all animosity dissolving, Alyosha knew he had recognized him too.

"Alyosha," he breathed out, as if he himself could not believe it. Alyosha, tears running freely down his face, smiled, and that seemingly spurred the other man to life. "Alyoshka!"

Dmitri leaped forward, engulfing his little brother in a hug so tight the smaller man could barely breathe, but neither of them had the mind to care. Alyosha embraced his brother just as tightly, summoning all the strength his arms could possibly lend him to try, in some way, to match the hold of his army-veteran brother. He could hear Dmitri crying, and that made him cry even more. He felt they could have stayed that way forever─letting go did not even cross his mind─had someone else not arrived at the front door.

"Mitya? Darling, what is…" Dmitri did not let go of him, did not even move, but Alyosha did raise his head towards the, too, very familiar voice. The woman gave up whatever words she had planned on saying next. A hand flew to cover her mouth, muffling a choked sob and, a moment later, she had joined their embrace, Alyosha now positively sandwiched between the couple.

"Alyosha!" she laughed happily, squeezing him like a teddy-bear before letting go. "Alyoshenka, my little prince!" Gruchenka stepped away from the hug to instead place her hands on his arm in an almost motherly way—her eyes, too, shining with tears. Then her expression morphed to one of alertness as something seemed to dawn on her. "Do come inside! These Siberian winters are not to be taken lightly, especially to those not used to them." Gruchenka brought a hand to his cheek. "Dear, you're freezing! Mitya, bring him inside this instant! I'll take your luggage, Alyosha dear."

Mitya did abide by her orders, but he did not undo the embrace completely—he still kept one arm around Alyosha's shoulders, the other stretched in front of them, holding Alyosha's arm. In such an arrangement, he more dragged his brother inside than led him, but Alyosha did not, in any shape or form, mind. Dmitri's gaze was distant and unfocused as he faced forward, looking at nowhere in particular, and Alyosha kept his eyes glued to his face, a soft grin never leaving his lips. His brother. He had found his brother. He was alive, he was alright.

The next few minutes found Alyosha sitting down on a couch next to a flaring fireplace, all snuggled up in a pile of blankets and with a steaming cup of hot chocolate cradled in his hands—both Mitya and Gruchenka were very adamant on spoiling their adored Alyosha and would not take "no" for an answer. Mitya, sat sprawled on an armchair next to the couch, had finally disentangled himself from his little brother to let him warm himself up with dry clothes and the blankets Gruchenka had brought him. She sat on the arm of Dmitri's chair, head resting on her husband's shoulder.

They made an odd couple, so different from what Alyosha remembered them, and yet completely and entirely the exact same. Dmitri's appearance followed the prediction he had made to Alyosha before being sent away almost to a T: his hair had, indeed, grayed itself out. He had grown a beard and, true to his word, he had leaked one of his eyes out, and it now remained closed at all times. Gruchenka had bleached her hair blond, giving up the beautiful auburn color in favor of blending in, and tiny wrinkles and the marks of age began to show itself in her face, exuberant and beautiful as Alyosha remembered. Their Russian was now laced with an American accent, but Dmitri was still as much as a Russian as any Russian man could hope to be. The sorrow of having had his children born in another country was made up by the joy of being able to raise them in their beloved Motherland.

Dmitri's children. What a wonderful surprise.

Two beautiful children, the eight-year-old girl, Natalya, who he had met earlier—that kept on eyeing him curiously from where she sat by the fire on a pile of pillows playing with a pair of rag dolls—and a two-year-old boy, little Vanka—standing by the couch, small hand gripping the blanket around Alyosha, holding all of his uncle's loving attention captive with whatever baby talk he was regaling them with. She had her Father's hair and eyes while he had inherited his Mother's face, and his hair showed the beginnings of the auburn color she had so tried to hide.

"In summary, we did exactly what I said we would," Dmitri laughed. "Got married, stayed however long we needed in America, had the two single most beautiful children in the entirety of this Earth, then came back to Russia, to live in the most isolated cranny we could find, to work the land, live quietly and discreetly, so on, so on…"

Alyosha smiled that timid smile that made Mitya ache at how he had not changed a bit. "I do not remember the two beautiful children being part of the plan," he joked lightly and delighted himself in his brother's booming laughter.

"Well, it was a welcome surprise, was it not?"

At this point, little Vanka had made his way up the couch and onto his uncle's lap. Alyosha wrapped his arms around the toddler and placed a kiss on his hair. His smile was positively bright as he answered, "A most welcome one."

Dmitri shook his head. A pregnant silence followed before he broke it again.

"What do you think Ivan will say when he finds out I named my kid after him?" Mitya voiced it as a joke, but Alyosha could see that it meant much more to him than he let on.

"He will be honored. He will love Nat and Vanka as much as he loves you," the youngest Karamazov answered promptly.

Gruchenka bumped her head with her husband's in a gentle gesture that seemed more meaningful than a simple caress—maybe she had spent the last two years telling Dmitri the exact same thing, maybe even longer. Dmitri let out a huff, something between a satisfied chuckle and a choked sob and did not question Alyosha's words.

“How is he?” Mitya followed up, worry shadowing his expression. 

Alyosha sighed. “Better. He still goes down with fevers from time to time, but they are never as violent as the one you remember him having. And they let up fairly quickly too. He and Katierina… They are married.”

Alyosha had been a little bit afraid of Dmitri and Gruchenka’s reaction to these news—afraid of what sort of terribly awkward situation they would create. But, instead, the couple in front of him merely laughed. Ten years were, as Alyosha had hoped, way too long to hold on to any resentment or disagreement.

“About time they stopped dancing around it too,” Gruchenka rolled her eyes, expressing a whole lot of expected impatience, but not any of the malice he had feared.

Dmitri laughed in agreement, seeming genuinely happy for their brother, which promptly put a damp towel on Alyosha‘s worries. “So he went and did it? Ha! Good for them, they go well together.” He raised an eyebrow in mischief. “Any nephew of ours I should know about?”

“A niece, little Eva. She’s five.” Alyosha tilted his head downwards. “When Katya and Vanya got married, they were very excited about having children, but soon found out that was not what God had intended for them. At least not biologically. Eva’s Father got drunk frequently and ignored her existence most of the time.”

Mitya more or less snarled. “Sounds familiar.”

Well, maybe some resentments did last longer than ten years.

Alyosha shrunk his shoulders. “Yes. After getting in multiple verbal fights with the man, failing to convince the police to do anything for Eva and breaking the man’s nose, Ivan asked the man to just let him take Eva home. He accepted immediately. He and Katya have been raising her as their own since then. That was four months ago.”

Dmitri grinned, flapping his hands around wildly. Alyosha could see pride and admiration shining in his eye. “See? That’s our Ivan! Our brother’s got a heart of gold! I would expect no less from the man who saved my life. And Katya as well; this little princess, God bless her, could not be in better hands.” 

Gruchenka laughed. “Did he seriously break the man’s nose? Ivan? That I would have liked to see.”

Alyosha sighed. “He almost got into real trouble for it.” The memories of all of Mitya’s misadventures had flashed before Alyosha’s eyes when Ivan had arrived at his house with a broken finger and bloodstains on his coat. What a dreadful shock it had been. “But Eva is safe now.” He turned to Nat with a friendly smile. “I am sure she would love to befriend a young lady as lovely as you.”

Nat shrunk within herself, but she did smile back. She answered with a tiny voice, “I would love to befriend her too, if she is my cousin.” Then, her expression fell. “But we cannot leave Siberia. Some evil men are after papa.”

A pregnant silence befell the adults in the room. Mytia huffed, breaking the tension. He got up from his chair and scooping his daughter in his arms, getting a surprised squeal and a laugh out of her.

"Oh, but I'm sure we can find a way for you and Eva to meet, you're cousins, after all! And little Ivan has to meet big Ivan, that is not up for debate, of course." He placed a kiss on Nat's forehead as the little girl nestled herself against his chest. "But I think, for now, it's bedtime for you both."

Nat nodded. When Mytia put her down, she walked up to the couch to take Vanka's little hand in hers and take him to their bedroom. Before she did so, however, she surprised Alyosha by climbing onto the couch and wrapping her small arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"Goodnight, uncle Alyosha." She pulled back to look him in the eyes. "Will you still be here tomorrow?"

Alyosha smiled warmly at his niece. "I will, we shall have plenty of time to play together."

Her answer was an adorable toothy grin, complete with a little gap left behind by a baby tooth.

With the two children gone, Alyosha's smile fell as he focused on his eldest brother. "You have no plans of coming back, then?"

Dmitri ran a hand through his hair with a nervous sigh. "It's just not safe, I think. If they catch me, everything you, Vanya and Katya did for me would have been in vain." His eyes darkened. "And I am not rotting in jail for the sins of that bastard." Alyosha flinched at his brother's language—he could understand Mytia's anger, but it still did not sit well with him to speak thusly of someone who had already passed (and in such a lonely way, no less). Mytia dropped back on his chair, resting his head on his wife's shoulder. "Especially not now, when I have so much to live for out here."

Gruchenka placed a kiss on her husband's temple. She addressed Alyosha. "But you are always welcome, whenever you feel like visiting, Ivan and Katya too."

Alyosha smiled back at her. "I will, I promise."

Mytia got back up from the chair. "Well, I think it's time we let you rest, the journey here must have been exhausting enough. Plus, you did promise Nat you would play with her tomorrow and you better be fully rested for that. She might look like a calm little angel but she is my child, after all," he laughed, that boisterous laughter Alyosha had sorely missed. He had heard stories of the little troublemaker his brother had been as a child, though it was difficult to imagine Nat being the same. He would have to take Mytia's word for it.

"I'll show you to your room, dear." Gruchenka held his shoulders affectionately as she led him towards the hallway Nat and Vanka had disappeared into earlier. "Will you lock the doors while I'm at it, darling?" she called back to Mytia.

"I'm on it," he called back from somewhere further into the house. Alyosha could hear the sound of locks being clasped shut.

"Has anyone ever tried to break in?" Alyosha asked.

Gruchenka shook her head. "Never, but Mytia can never be too careful. Especially after Nat's birth." Her smile turned into a teasing giggle. "Your brother is a bit of a mother hen, would you believe that?"

Alyosha smiled. His brother, a father. What a delightful turn of events.

"You can stay in this room. Mytia uses it as a office, but he's not working right now, so it won't be any problem. There are extra blankets in the wardrobe if you get cold."

She stopped talking. Gruchenka held him by the shoulders at arm's length, staring right into his eyes. Then, her own filled with tears, and she pulled him into a tight hug.

"Oh, how we missed you, Alyoshenka! How we missed our home, how we missed feeling normal. We've been hiding for so long, even after all these years, it feels like we are hiding. But now that you are here, it feels like our lives can finally go back to how they were. It's like I can finally breathe for the first time in a long time. I am sure Mytia feels the same. He loves you deeply, you and Ivan both."

Alyosha returned her embrace, his own eyes misty as well. "God is in control of everything and He has already blessed you in so many ways. Have hope," he encouraged warmly.

Gruchenka let him go, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "That He has. Like always, you know exactly what to say, it's almost unnerving," she laughed and he smiled. "Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight."

He pushed the door open and went inside his room for the night. It was rather small, but Alyosha felt a wave of warmth wash over him as he took it in. The drawings hanging on the wall that he assumed were Nat's, the carved animal toys strewn about over a blanket on the floor. It was supposed to be Dmitri's office, but it felt more like the children's play room. The notion was utterly sweet—that it was both and that his children enjoyed being around him so much that they would want to play in the same room he spent most of his time in.

Exhaustion from the travel finally settled in. Alyosha lied down on the bed to catch a breather, a content smile on his lips. They were alright.