#female monsters

[running-with-kn1ves]

Sinful Temptations

A/N: So an anon asked for a nsfw succubus but I kind of FORGOT-- so here's this thing I started in like November. OH and happy body positivity month!

Synopsis: You work a few blocks away from the local monster strip club where you’ve garnered the attention and affection of a flirty succubus.

CW: Stripper succubus, alcohol, demonic intoxication, demonic feeding, mentions of sex work, reader is down bad but plays it off all chill guy-like

It was a Wednesday-- a stupid, stupid Wednesday. Not yet late enough in the week to justify staying up late to devour sugary treats and watch guilty pleasure movies, yet not early enough for you to have the motivation to keep yourself going. So what does a lonely, self-loathing, gas station attendant do after their shift? Sink to the lowest hole downtown for some sappy, self-bought comfort. 

A beer in one hand for show, the other a folded wad of ones and tens. Working nightly shifts at a near-abandoned shop next to the highway doesn’t give you a lot of spending money. This was what you were supposed to spend on your utility bill. But hey, you can keep showering at the gym, using the microwave at work to make your dinners. It’s not like you haven’t done it before. 

You anxiously wait by the bar, feeling out of place like you always did. It didn’t explicitly say ‘NO HUMANS’ on the outside of the club, but it certainly felt that way when millions of eyes and snouts were directed towards you, giving you glares and sniffs in bemusement. 

But you only came here searching for one thing. One monster. Despite the vampires attempting to give you bottle service, the centaur guarding the entrance, the eight-eyed bartender you assumed was some kind of hybrid-- they weren’t what you were keeping a look out for. Besides, who knew if they were willing to associate with a human in any kind of way--- the kinds of monsters who would were labeled as fetishists, or at the very least below their kind for choosing a mortal of low value to be with, rather than one of their own. 

You scanned the dimmed, flashing room for the sound of fluttering wings, the monster’s sleek black horns that made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. 

It took you only a moment, watching her come from the back room covered by a silky curtain, velvet ropes cutting off any unwanted visitors. 

She looked tired, giving an unusually exhausted furrow as she held an empty glass, lipstick stain pressed to the side of it. 

She was… so captivating. Ethereal, unlike any creature you’ve seen before. You would never admit to being enraptured by her-- there was no chance of it coming to anything, so you wouldn’t dare utter the idea in your mind. But your eyes lingered on her, desperate for her to look at you, an aching in your heart to have her pin you against an alley wall outside of this humid, wet club. Somewhere you knew she would be real with her affections, not just offering a facade from the kindness of her job. 

You knew whatever sixth sense she had could feel you staring, her head turning to see the culprit of the longing gleams. 

“Oh, honey!” She shouted over the music, raspy and higher than her normal tone. 

She walked your way, only needing to take a few steps to reach the other side of the club with those infinitely long legs of hers. You kept your eyes up and in contact with hers, shoving the money in your pocket to not seem like a sleaze. You wouldn’t dare linger your eyes on her body, on all the distinct parts that made heat rise to your cheeks, too afraid of insulting her.

“Megaera,” You breathed, sighing out of relief that she found you first. You’d hate to come crawling to her like a kicked puppy, tapping on her shoulder for attention. 

She kissed your cheeks, leaving a small cherry purple stain. You attempt to do the same to her but are unable to make contact with her cold cheek. 

“How have you been? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you here.”

She rubbed at the marks she left on your face with her thumbs, holding your cheeks delicately in her large palms. 

You had little experience with monsters outside this club, but still... You never knew succubi were so much-- bigger than the average human. She easily dominated the height of the truckers who came into your small convenience store, her palms swallowing your cheeks with their warmth and size. 

“Y’know.. Just around. Trying to save money, drinks aren’t cheap here.”

She laughed at that, a genuine laugh. It filled your chest with pride when you saw how relaxed she was with you compared to the rest of her clients, how her nickname for you was ‘baby’ and ‘honey’ instead of the stereotypical ‘sweetheart’ she addressed to everyone else. Even her coworkers didn’t get your treatment-- you were different, and maybe she just saw you as some sad human looking for company, but she never let on to perceiving you that way. 

“But you know, I’ve missed you. I don’t get to hang out like this during my shift unless you show up,” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened, a sharp finger taping beneath your chin. “You’re so much more… chivalrous, than the others.”

She snickered at that, and you couldn’t help but crack a slight laugh, the irony biting at you. 

“Chivalrous?” You quirked, “Now I never said I came here with pure intentions, did I? How do you know I’m not as gross and perverted as the rest,” You scanned her body for dramatic effect, unable to hide the anxiety in your shaking gaze, even at the expense of a joke.

She lifted her eyebrows in amusement. 

“Sure. But you’ve never tried to grab my ass, have you? Only thought about it.” 

You went quiet; couldn’t deny that one. You almost looked at her with sympathy, afraid she’d feel like a piece of meat knowing of all the sinful gazing you did when you saw her. It was out of admiration, amazement-- but a part of that was still deeply rooted in lust. 

But Megaera was quite the opposite. She grinned knowingly, biting her lip and watching how you wriggled and wormed at the fact she knew about you, your wants. 

“What, reading my thoughts now are you? I didn’t think that was one of a succubus’ talents.”  You looked away, unsure if you’d melt into a puddle right there if you met her amber eyes.

“I don’t need to read your thoughts,” she came closer, the jingle of thin tassels dangling from the skimpy outfit covering her body matching the quivers of your heart. “It's right on your face. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you always try to reach for my hand, but pull it back before you even get halfway-- or draw your eyes to my breasts when I’m not looking?” Megaera stared at your gaping mouth, parted lips in surprise by her closeness. “Quite naughty for a human to go after a ‘monster’ like me, isn't it? I could steal your soul from right out under you, you know.” 

You don’t peer into her eyes, those that can captivate and whip even the most defiant of creatures. You keep your gaze on her neck, the bare skin luring you more than her chest pushing up against your throat. She was too tall, it made you hot and delirious. 

You could feel her body lay upright upon yours, so squishy and soft, surprisingly gentle for how she towered over you; a bare, cool leg pressed upon your left knee to push your legs apart. 

“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? Pretending to be my friend, to be here for innocent means only to try and seduce me, huh?” 

“N-no,” You hate yourself for stuttering, never slipping up this bad before. When had she seen through your guise, your poor jokes and nervous shakes of your leg at the bar in order to impress her despite your fear? “I, I just wanted, to be next to you. Near you, I mean. I… I promise I didn’t mean anything by it--”

You let your heart thump to the tap of her nails against your shoulder

“Calm down.” She laughed pressing against you just a bit before stepping back. “This is my job, babes. I'm not some gullible rookie; before this, I was tempting sweet little things like you into submission.” 

You let out a huff in relief, your heart calming itself from near cardiac arrest now that she was no longer touching you. 

“You really ought to be careful, though. Any of the girls here could snatch your soul without a second thought if you aren’t paying enough attention.”

You gulped at the sound of that. It wasn’t too bad of a fate, if she was the one to snatch up your soul instead.

‘Don’t pout like that,” Megaera caught your slump of defeat. “It's not fun being a succubus’s slave, even with all the pleasure you might think is involved.” 

Now you really were about to pout. 

“I think you’re just trying to get me out of here; I’d gladly stay by your side if it meant getting free drinks.” You take a sip of your cheap beer for added effect, hoping your casual nonchalant-ness matched her effortless flirtations. 

“And a full view of me undressing.” Meg added, watching how you slammed back the full contents of your drink to avoid responding to that, the whites of your eyes growing bigger. 

You coughed, choking a tad on the taste. You drank every time you came here, but it wasn’t often enough for you to get used to downing an entire lager.

“Man, you’re just too easy!” Megaera pushes your shoulder, forcing your body to thump heavy against the bar counter. “The rest of the girls would eat you up, I'm lucky I'm the only one you seem to drool over.”

“Drool..?” You manage between wipes at your mouth. “I might not be some pure, inexperienced client but I'm not a dog either.”

“Oh?” Meg raises an eyebrow, looking around the room. The club was lively for a weekday, enough to the point that one mere succubus wouldn’t be missed when there were so many other creatures on display. 

You followed her eyes, wondering what she was searching for, what she was planning. 

“Maybe we should see about that.” She almost murmured, grabbing your free hand with hers. She so easily interlaced her fingers with yours, holding your hand like a lover would rather than a fond acquaintance you’ve barely touched. 

The lights from above turned from reds, to blues, to greens on the succubus’s skin, the gentle purple of her flesh fading into whatever color flashed on her. You could see the entirety of her backside save for the small black G-string held high on her hips, the open back of her top leaving room for fleshy, taloned wings to peek through. They were so thin, more for demonistic show rather than the potential of flight. 

They seemed to twitch in a flapping pattern the longer your eyes stayed on them, veins showing through each section of warm flesh between scaled cartilage.

You were too busy watching the click-clack of her stilettos grace the floor, her hair rub against her sparkling, perspiring back to realize you were crossing into the private section of the club. Where more.. Intimate, expensive gatherings occur. You definitely didn’t have the money to pay for one of these shows. 

“Uh, Meg I…” 

She stopped to turn around, curious and a little teasing with the way her eyebrow arched. 

“I would love to but… I’m, kind of on a tight budget… right now..” You cringe at yourself, wanting to beat at your head for passing up such an option. Sure, to her it was probably just part of her job, a way to get paid-- and you could technically pay for at least for half--(it’s not your first time thinking about this)-- but then you’d have to live with coming up with that other half, looking like a poor fool who can’t pay their dues.

“Don’t insult me like that, I don’t want your money;” She sneered, gripping your hand tighter than you expected after your yellow-bellied response. “I thought we were friends, right?”

She batted her lashes a bit, tilting her head in interest; you really were too easy, too gullible. She didn’t know if maybe it was the skimpy view you always had, the loneliness of working with sketchy people all day, or your complete lack of social awareness that left you as an easy target. 

“Yeah, of course we’re friends! I just don’t want you to, to do anything you don’t want to. Or to feel like.. I’m some poor human you feel bad for, like you have to entertain me.”

Megaera rolled her eyes. Gullible, yes, stupid-- a little. 

“Baby, do you really think I’d be generous enough to give you something for free? Even if I was bringing you back here out of pity-- I wouldn’t leave without getting something in return.” She pulled your hand forward, dragging you deeper into the curtained hallway. “Besides, I wouldn’t destroy what we have by making you pay for a special little service-- your company means more to me than that.” 

She walks beside you, a hand around your shoulder as she slowly leads you away, deeper into the red lighting of the backroom. Down the hall, there were several velvet curtained doorways, only covered by the loose fabric, thin cement walls hardly keeping their restricted activities a secret. 

Megaera took you to the end of the narrow, dimly lit hallway to an unclosed curtain. Inside, you could see the room’s properties. It wasn’t as taboo as you thought; no sex machines, prop-up tables with handcuffs, visible whips and chains. Just a curved purple loveseat, and a variety of glass liquor bottles on the small rounded table. 

You’ve wanted to come in here with her since the first time you saw her bring a client back, leading them flirtatiously and affectionately. She touched you just as intimately, but there seemed to be a lack of pressured seduction in it. She wasn’t trying to pretend to be all hot and bothered for you. In fact, it seemed more so she was concerned with what you were thinking, watching your every reaction with amusement and curiosity.

You wished you could be alone with her somewhere else, somewhere she hasn’t given a million lap dances and faux laughs. Somewhere that felt real, that felt like you weren’t paying for company. 

“You look pretty warm, are you okay?” Meg asked, taking your half-drunk bottle from your hands to put it on the glass table. 

You bucked up, taking a deep breath and strolling over to the cushy loveseat, acting as casual as possible. 

“Perfectly fine; so, what did you want me back here for?” You asked, pretending to be charismatically clueless. What did she want? There’s no way she just wanted your company, even though you’d be perfectly fine with that if it meant you could sit here with her, having her eyes and words directed towards you. 

Megaera grinned, the thin, spiked tail you hardly ever got a glimpse of except from behind, waving itself in anticipation. 

“Right to the point aren’t you; Don’t even want a drink first? It might help you loosen up, tiger.” 

You shook your head a little too quickly. 

She gave a small snicker at how you kept your legs spread wide, arms across the top of the couch as you tried to appear as prepared, as comfortably uncomfortable as possible. It was hard when she kept staring at you, yellow eyes scanning your body, keeping your inhibitions in check. 

“Alright, suit yourself.” She strutted a step to the couch, sitting down beside you. It sunk with her weight, her round hips taking up the rest of the couch as she leered over you. Lying comfortably to face your rigid frame, she watched you try to mirror her body language. 

“You know, for being a creature of lust, in the industry of sex, I don’t get much energy off of clients who come in here,” She brings a hand down to your thigh, tracing the inner side seam of your jeans with her finger. “I get more tips than energy; despite what misconceptions you might’ve heard, not all forms of sex give a succubus the rejuvenation she needs.” 

You listen intently, interested but a little confused on what she was trying to say, why she was searching for your avoidant eyes. 

“I’m a little lost. Why are you telling me this?”

You finally managed to keep your gaze on her without averting your eyes. Megaera went quiet, a peak of her pointed tongue brushing over her bottom lip. She was gazing at you how you had seen her do with hesitant clients, how she lured them in with her unwavering, hypnotizing gaze that made the most frugal of spenders give away their life savings.

“You don’t need to do that with me,” You hardened, almost annoyed at the fact that she thought she’d have to use that trick on you. “I’m already willing to give whatever you want.” 

“I know.” 

She grinned at your perceptiveness, giving her just one more reason as to why you were the one she wanted. “In exchange for an evening with me,” She grabbed your thigh all of a sudden, prying your leg even wider. “I want you to do everything I ask. I need to eat, and you seem willing to be fed on.” 

She teased a little, getting closer to your gaping lips and wide eyes. Was she really asking.. What you thought she was asking?

“Yes.” You said without a forethought. A million times yes. You might just be a puppet, be a toy she used to eat from without a care for your wellbeing-- and even if that was the case, you were okay with it as long as she was with you, willing to hold and touch you for her gain.

“That was a little quick, you don’t want some more time to think about it?” She looked down to keep her gaze away. Her stilettoed foot was nudging yours in a playful game, an opposite reaction to her slight frown. Even with the cold of her hard skin, you felt intensely warm, desperate to kiss her. 

Man, had you ever been this desperate before? The grip she had on you was too extreme, caution completely thrown to the wind just to have her want you, to have her take complete control over you, authentically.

“I don’t need to. I want this-- want to help you;” You grab her hand, still shaking as you move. “Besides, I’m not completely being taken advantage of-- I want this more than you know.” You watch her chest heave with shallow breaths. “It’s a win-win for the both of us.”

“Even if you collapse from exhaustion, your soul damned for eternity for fraternizing with a demon?” 

You rolled your eyes; she was being a little melodramatic. Meg’s sharp teeth gleamed at your expression.

“Are you trying to make me back out now? I thought you were the one looking for a favor.”

“Just making sure,” Meg brushed the bits of fly aways from your cheek behind your ear.  “Then, If you're certain-- you’ll have to get over this shyness.”

She beckoned you with an elongated finger, the sheening gleam of her chest rising and falling with a heavy breath. she wasn't smiling anymore, heavy lidded eyes with sparkled eyeshadow, making even the smallest, most detailed parts of her glow. 

“Come, sit.”

You hesitantly abide by her request. As you move to face her, her hands come to pull your thigh over her much larger one, your body fitting snugly against her like a small animal would, height and strength outweighing your entirety. With her two palms she could crush you into dust. 

But instead of doing so, she smooths her fingers down from your nape, to between your shoulder blades. The sensual touch’s pressure reminded you how much strength she was holding back; even the weight of her hands was like a heavy stone. 

But she draws them back up, returning to the sides of your neck with her lips a breaths distance away from your face. Returning them to your back she draws circles on your spine with her bladed fingernails.

Megaera looks into your eyes for a faltering resolve, for fear-- or maybe even lustful desperation showing your lack of right mind. You couldn't help but feel a bit of it all-- but not enough for her to quip an eyebrow, or for you to make her stop.

Your heart was like a hummingbird, speeding up at the way her skin touched your skin, the fact that you were here with her half-lidded, candlelight eyes coming closer as she aimed to lock her lips with yours. 

You stood as rigid as possible as to not mess up what you had been dreaming, fantasizing about for months. the tips of your lips that pinched between her teeth were on fire, a hot chimney blowing into your throat as she twisted deeper against you. One hand limp at your shoulder now moved to the back of your head, a gentle force forward to deepen the kiss with her long, snaking tongue. You wanted to ravish her, to run your hands down her like she did to you-- to cry about how you needed her skin between your lips, your teeth, her hair in your fingers. It was the only way to quench the intense, craving inside of you. A craving you were sure no creature had felt so deeply before. At least not genuinely for a creature like her, your fantasizes holding lust alongside the desire to build a home, to kiss “I love you’s” down her navel after a long day at work. 

You grasped her gently on the side of her hot and stone-hard cheek, feeling the tingles in your toes turn to a strangled sensation-- your limbs wearing themselves out the tighter you held onto her. You felt weightless, like she could hold you up by the collar without resistance. 

Meg tenses slightly at your eagerness despite the slump overriding your body, lips gentle against hers without holding back, relishing in her consuming touch. 

You can feel the electric sparks that excited you begin to zap away, each gentle lick of her tongue to yours like a slow drain of every ounce of energy you own. 

“You like this too much, hm...” she smiles against your lips for a half second, fading too quickly into a hesitant frown. Her grip along your neck was getting stronger, even her thumb against your pulse enough to choke you if she pressed any harder.

“Can't argue with that..” You manage to heave out, the desire to sleep overcrowding your hunger for this moment, your awed ecstasy. 

“Can you do something else for me?” She asks, swallowing an eager, concerned gulp. “Not for me to feed, just for my…enjoyment.”

“Anything..” You huff again, your heart burning with venom, as if you had been running and never stopped. Your legs would barely move on their own, eyes looking up to hers as they peered through heavy lashes, eyeliner and mascara dabbed up to the nines.

“Get on your knees.”

You understand as soon as the words leave her mouth, some innate desire making you want to follow her every command-- the bewitchment she had on you as a woman or her powers as a succubus being the influence, you weren't sure. But your body wasn't nearly as complying with its weakness, giving out as you started to push away from her. 

Meg helps you gently, seeing you struggle so earnestly it was almost hard to watch. But to your relief she said nothing, watching as you crawl on your knees to come close. 

The muttering of drinks and seductive music reigns outside the curtain, reminding you of the writhing bodies stumbling to the bar that were so far from your little slice of bliss. You felt only a slight digging of pain, in your back, your joints. But the pressing tip of a high heel on your chest outweighed any exhaustion or agony Meg could bring you to. The black, sparkly platform was gentle, any harder and she would've shoved you back against the room's opposing wall.

She looked down at you, arms loose around the backside of the couch, almost concerned at your dissipating enthusiasm. But there was an ounce of intrigue, one that wanted to see how thin you'd stretch yourself for her. You fell to your elbows as her heel pushed deeper, the tip of her high heel coming to your chin. 

“Well, are you going to just lay there?” She asked, a curious tone lacing her words.

You had seen this in the movies with the powerful, seductive corporate female character and dominatrix's--- you almost felt embarrassed by the cliché, even if it did get your failing heart racing. 

You kissed the tip of her high heel, running from the bedazzled shoe to the soft plum of her skin. You made your inchful way up to the side of her ankle, no sense of blood under her flesh, but her body still moving under your kisses. 

You hold under the bridge of her shoe, the digging of her sharp heel into your arm somehow numbed. From her shin to the side of her knee you rose higher, gaze downturned as her own settled upon you, a little astonished. And yet, Meg looked captivated by your devotion, your display of honest affection. 

Your legs were growing uneasy now as you sat on them, trying to rise back up to her lips as you placed her heavy, powerful leg back onto the wine-colored carpet. 

“I guess you didn't come here with pure intentions; came to woo me, hm?” Meg blurred into two now, your eyes failing you as something acidic fills your throat. “You really are far too sweet and gentle to want a quickie.”

“Told ya… Not like, all're other clients..”

You grin when she does, a sweet ache to the numbness in your limbs. It felt like a kind of nauseous good, making you far too delirious to care about returning to work, to worry about anything other than the gorgeous succubus holding you captive. 

“Well, let's see how long you last first. I don't kiss my regular clients for this exact reason,” she laughed cheekily at your blurry gaze. “See right about now, you're starting to forget where you are. And soon, you won't even feel my touch.” 

"mmn…” you nudged into her touch, gently chilled fingers sliding down your skin so sweetly. It contrasted so well with the fiery smoke of her breath. 

“Say baby, you're willing to give yourself to me when you're conscious… is it okay if I assume the same when you're fast asleep, dreaming in my arms? I'm still, so hungry.”

You can’t see her any further, eyes fluttering to the back of your head and your arms giving out. But you can subtly nod your head, a faint “sure” leaving your careless mouth. You were in too much pleasure at how the night unfolded to even care where you woke up, you just knew you wanted to be with her, wherever she was, even if something in the back of your head, your gut, your instinct-- whatever it was, told you this wasn’t going to end well. 

Megaera’s damp breath hit your neck, a blazing tongue poking from between two perfect lips pressed against your cheek.

[monstrousdesirestudy]

[babayanska]

Grrrls just wanna have fun

[tyanis]

Just another set of unrealistic beauty standards for women...

I'm sorry I can't be them.

[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.

[shadowgale96]

‘Why won't somebody come and save me from this? I must confess that I feel like a monster.’

Nadja - Blood Red Sky (2021)

Greta - Love, Death, and Robots: Beyond the Aquila Rift (2019)

Lily - Siren (2016)

Sai - Inhuman Kiss (2019)

Moder - The Ritual (2017)

Thomasin - VVitch (2015)

Dren - Splice (2009)

Beldam - Coraline (2009)

Melanie - Girl With All The Gifts (2016)

Irena - Cat People (1982)

[ijwrite]

Female Orc x Female Reader - Part 1

You were woken by a large crash from outside your house, followed by a whinny and your chickens' distressed clucking. It only took you a moment to grab the large hunting knife you always kept at your bedside and peek out the door. The moon was full that night, bathing your fields in a pale light, yet it also illuminated what appeared to be a crashed cart.

The whinnying continued, and you were quickly on your way to the crash site. As you got closer, you could see that the horse that had been pulling the cart, had stumbled into the ditch where you dug out your clay. The poor horse was obviously panicking, which was only made worse by the fact that it's legs were all in unnatural angles. You slowed down your pace, and approached the terrified animal. It got increasingly distressed as you got closer, trying and failing to stand on it's broken legs. You felt bad for the poor thing, and couldn't help but feel responsible that it crashed into a hole that you had dug.

There was something strange though. There were no roads that led to your house, nor was there a driver in sight. That was when you noticed the arrows sticking out of both the horse and the side of the cart, along with the blood splattered on the wood. There was forming a clear picture in your mind; The person/people that had been driving the cart had been attacked, possibly killed and the frightened horse had set off in sheer panic, only stopped when it had tripped into your clay pit. You made a somber realisation. The horse had not only sustained painful injuries, but it had also broken all of it's legs in a way that would not be mendable with any of your knowledge. With a heavy sigh, you put the animal out of its misery, as quickly and painless as you could. That, you did know how to do. With a final stroke of it's mane and a tear falling from your cheek, you closed it's eyes. In the silence that followed, you heard a small grunting and shuffling from the back of the cart. You hurried to it, finding a small moving bundle of cloth at the bottom of the cart. You hesitantly peeled back layers of the fabric, only to be greeted with small eyes that shone in the moonlight, staring back at you. You barely had time to notice the sharp ears and the green colouring, before the small thing burst into a heartbreaking wail. You flinched slightly before picking up the little one. It was clearly a baby, and judging by its appearance, it was either a troll or an orc. The little thing was clearly unhappy with the situation, bawling it's little eyes out. You knew that small creatures required three basic things to be comfortable: food, safety and being clean. You could do that. You ran back into your house and lit some candles, still clutching and rocking the baby. You laid them on the ground, searching for one of your blankets and a washcloth. As soon as you had found some that you deemed soft enough, you immediately went to work cleaning the child. The small thing was filthy, clearly having been neglected. As you cleaned them, you found them to be a small boy. When you finally had cleaned the little one up and tied a washcloth around his behind, you bundled him back up in a new blanket. Your ears had begun ringing from the continuous cries, so you hurried with your next task. You had to find food for him.

You peered into his open mouth, seeing the dents of small teeth trying to break out. This was good, it meant that the child was approximately at the age where he could start eating something other than his mother's milk. If he wasn't, you wouldn't have known what to do. You know enough about babies to be aware of the fact that just any milk wouldn't do. If you fed a newborn milk from your sheep, they would become very sick, or even die. So you thanked your lucky stars that you had boiled potatoes the evening before, taking one and mashing it into a bowl with one hand as you held the crying boy with your other. You sat down on a chair with the little child in your arms, scooping a dollop of mash onto your finger. It was easy to get it into the mouth of the boy, with how open it was. As soon as the food touched his tongue, he clamped down. Your heart broke at the realisation that he must have been incredibly hungry. You fed him the rest of the food, and he kept silent the whole time, too invested in filling his stomach. As the bowl began to empty, he started to slowly look around, as if searching for something. Or rather someone. You imagined that he was looking for his mother. It was after all around this time too, that a child would realise that their mom was a different person than themselves, leading to much separation anxiety. As the boy began to realise that the only person around was you, his lip started wobbling. You held him close to your chest and started humming, hoping the vibrations would soothe him. He started sniffling, but was not crying yet. You walked around your small house for some time, humming and smoothing a finger down from between his brows, to the tip of his nose, just as your mother had done when you were little and couldn't sleep. It eventually worked, and the little boy fell asleep. As slowly and quietly as you could, you blew out the candles and laid back into your bed, keeping the boy close. You kept him on the inside of the bed, against the wall, so there was no chance he would fall down. You would be damned if something happened to this little guy. Your last thought before you drifted off again, was what clothes you would have to make him.

The sun had barely risen above the treeline when the little guy woke you up. He was once again crying, though less desperately than the night before. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you started your day with changing the boy and feeding him again. He was content after, just curiously looking around your home. You knew that you would have to tend to your animals, yet you didn't want to leave a baby alone for longer than absolutely necessary.

Turns out that he rather likes being strapped to your back as you work.

You had taken a long scarf and tied it so he was sat securely on your back, and you had both your hands free. You could feel his little head resting on your shoulder, observing as you fed the chickens. They seemed to still be shaken up from the commotion the night before, puttering around your feet as soon as you crossed the fence. They nipped at your boots to let you know that they were distressed, and you laughed slightly at how disgruntled they looked. You gave them a bit extra seeds to quiet them down, and it seemed to work. Next was checking on the sheep. You only had a few, but they seemed content in their hut, only coming out to eat and drink during the day. Milking them was over quickly, so you just patted them for a good bit after. You had almost forgotten the little guy on your back, before a small hand reached out to the sheep in front of you. You crouched into the mud so he could feel the wool of the sheep. He seemed to like this, though the sheep looked a bit pressed when he tugged at it. You quickly unfurled his fingers from the wool and patted the sheep apologetically. She didn't seem to be too mad, as if she knew it was just a little baby. He didn't like that he could not feel the wool, so he instead started tugging at your ears.

That was when you made the decision to get him some sort of toy. The first thing was just a tuft of clean wool you had not yet spun. It seemed to do the trick and keep him occupied as you went to take a closer look at the crashed cart. In the daylight, it was much clearer how damaged it actually was. With the way the wheels almost was falling off, you were surprised that it had gotten this far. You sighed before grabbing a shovel, starting to fill up your former clay pit, that now was to become the grave of the poor horse. As you worked, you mulled over what you could use the planks from the cart for. Most were still in fair condition, and it would be a waste to use them as firewood. That was when you heard a soft snoring in your ear, the baby having fallen asleep. Maybe you could build a crib for the little one?

That was indeed what you did. It took a few days and was not the prettiest, but a sound and safe crib had been constructed from most of the useable planks you could salvage. It had been layered with a thick blanket over a base of dried moss, to make it soft. A small carving on the side date the day you had found him. You had also taken to knitting new blankets and clothes for the boy, as well as work on whittling some small figures for him to play with. And since you had no name to call him, you started to refer to him as Qarak. It was the name of an orc you once had met, and felt that it would be respectful to at least give him that part of his culture. So long as it didn't turn out he was a troll.

The first time you genuinely heard him laugh, was when you had made a bird flute from clay, and blew in it to entertain him. His entire face lit up and he broke out into a full belly laugh. You could only laugh with him. 

He had been around for about a month before he started to crawl, much to your surprise. You had sat him on the floor as you used the rest of the salvaged planks to make a chair he could sit comfortably in, when he suddenly was at your side, trying to put the hammer in his mouth. From then on, he was a little menace. You could only count on him staying in his crib, where he was to small to get up from, or when you strapped him to your back when you worked outside. 

He had started to communicate with you too, and you slowly started to understand what each little sound meant. You often talked to him as you worked, hoping that it would help him speak one day. 

You always referred to yourself as "mama" when you spoke to your chickens and sheep, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when you suddenly heard a small 

"mam" come from the child. He had wanted your attention, and was pulling at your pant leg. You stiffened before looking down at him. He said it again, with a large smile now, having gotten the attention he wanted. You quickly lifted him up to pepper him in kisses, making him giggle wildly. 

You had by then contented yourself with the fact that you were going to take care of this kid, since there hasn't been anyone around to look for him. You had briefly considered dropping him off at the nearest village, but couldn't bring yourself to do it, seeing his gummy little smile, new tuft of blond hair and bright eyes look up at you. You figured that his relatives were dead, killed in the ambush. 

Which was why you were so surprised to hear a yell from behind your back, while you were feeding your chickens one summer morning. You quickly turned around, not used to other people, and not at all anyone around your house.

It was an orc woman, tall and broad. She had a long blonde braid going down one side of her head, the other shaven. Her tusks were filed down to a blunt point, and she had piercing green eyes. In her hand was a large woodsplitter axe and she had a sneer on her face as she stomped towards you. You stood very still as she approached, not wanting to give her a reason to pounce.

"Can I help you?" you tried softly asking, which only made her huff.

"Where did you get that child?" Her voice was deep and gravelly, as if she had used it to scream her whole life.

"I found him" This only made her scowl deepen.

"Bullshit. You bought him didn't you? Bought him so he could grow up to be a slave on your farm?" She raised both her voice and her axe, making you realise how much bigger and stronger she was than you. You held up your hands placatingly.

"It is true, i found him in a cart that had been ambushed. The horse had dragged it all the way to my homestead. I decided to take care of him" You tried to reason with her. She snarled, which made Qarak whimper on your back. You lifted your hand to his head and petted it softly, trying to soothe him. The woman's eyes followed your movements.

"I imagine that you are a relative?" You really tried to keep your voice steady, even if you were afraid. You tried to be strong for your boy. The woman scoffed again.

"I'm his mum. And if you hand him back right now, I won't kill ya" Your mouth went dry. This was his mother? They did have the same eyes and hair, but you wouldn't just hand him over.

"Hold on, how can I know you really are his mother? Why would he be alone in a cart, clearly neglected?" Once again, your words made her look even more angry, her grip on the axe tightening.

"Cause he was taken from me. I tracked down the sons of bitches that wanted to sell him as a slave, but they were already dead. Robbery gone wrong. I have been looking all over for him and my patience is starting to grow thin" She growled out. You sighed heavily.

"Okay. If you are his mother, then I suppose it would be very selfish of me to try and keep him" You slowly freed him from you back, holding him out to his mother. She sighed the moment she held him. He started fussing a bit, reaching back for you. "Let me just get his things" you choked out and motioned to your house. She looked to think for a second.

"Alright, but if you try to attack us, I will not hesitate to kill you" She nodded and followed you to your door. She had to duck when she entered, her eyes darting around to look for potential threats. Her gaze fell upon the crib and chair that you had built for him, before it landed on you again, as you took his favourite blanket to use to bundle his toys up with. You gathered the small things you had made him, the little bird flute, a carvings of a sheep and a chicken, a ball you had sewn and the clothes you lovingly knitted for him. As you turned back to the woman with the filled sack, she now looked more curious than angry.

"This is his things. Oh, and he prefer his potato mash without clumps. He also hates carrots. He sleeps best when you sing at least two lullabies. And please remember to massage his stomach every once in a while, or he gets a tummy ache" You told the baffled orc as you handed her the things.

"Bye little guy" You kissed him on his little head before quickly drying the tear that fell from your eye. He looked confused at seeing you distressed and reached back out for you.

"Mamma?" his mothers head whipped down to him as he uttered that little word. Then her confusion turned back into a snarl before she brought her axe to your throat in one quick move, not cutting, but keeping the threat of damage very real.

"You fucker! Why does he think you're his mum?!" She yelled, making Qaraks lip wobble.

"I- I took care of h- him. I didn't think he had any family aliv-" You breath hitched as she pressed the axe closer to your neck.

This made Qarak start full on sobbing. This distracted the woman enough for you to take a breath without fear of decapitation. She tried to bounce the baby, but she couldn't get him to calm down. Well aware that you were tempting fate, you reached out for him. The woman glared at you, but gave up when she saw how the boy was reaching for you. You gently rocked him, humming a familiar tune. The crying quickly subsided and he calmed down. The woman looked at you once again. You just ignored the glare.

"Where will you go?" You softly asked her, still rocking Qarak. She looked away for a moment.

"I don't know" She sighed. You bit your lip in contemplation.

"You could... stay here?" You looked at her surprised face. She was silent for a few more moments before she nodded.

"Alright. We'll stay. I'm Hakla"

"A pleasure to meet you Hakla" 

[themonstrousother]

Ginger Snaps Resource List

For the upcoming 25 year anniversary, I thought it’d be fun to make a list of reviews, blog posts, academic articles and books that delve into Ginger Snaps (2000) and its sequels. I might update this list as we go long, we shall see. I’ve also tried providing links where I can. If anyone has suggestions/resources, lemme know and I’ll add them to the list

Disclaimer: While I don’t necessarily agree with every author here, they do offer compelling perspectives and analysis on the movie and think they’re worth a read.

Content Warning: Canon-typical discussions of sexual assault/rape, incest, violence and death

Bitch training: discipline and punishment in postfeminist narratives of female werewolves

Ginger Snaps: The monstrous feminine as femme animale in She-wolf: A cultural history of female werewolves by Barbara Creed

The Monstrous Feminine (second edition) by Barbara Creed

Misfit sisters: screen horror as female rites of passage by Sue Short

The Werewolf Pride Movement: A Step from Queer Medieval Tradition by Caitlin B. Giacopasi

Bloody Transformations: Reinventing the Werewolf Through Explorations of Gender and Power in the Ginger Snaps Trilogy

Bloody Transformations: Reinventing the Werewolf Through Explorations of Gender and Power in the Ginger Snaps Trilogy: Megan Kenny

"Something's Wrong, Like More Than You Being Female": Transgressive Sexuality and Discourses of Reproduction in Ginger Snaps by Bianca Nielsen

John Fawcett's Ginger Snaps by Ernest Mathijs

“Welcome to Civilization”: Colonialism, the Gothic, and Canada’s Self-protective Irony in the Ginger Snaps Werewolf Trilogy Author: Sunnie Rothenburger

THE LAND BEYOND THE FOREST: A CONCEPTUAL NOVELLA AND ACCOMPANYING ESSAY ON SETTLER RESPONSES TO INDIGENOUS PEOPLES IN GENRE AND CONCEPTUAL WRITING by Trystan Anthony Carter

‘The worst loups-garous that one can meet’: Reading the Werewolf in the Canadian ‘Wilderness’ Kaja Franck

Perpetual flight: the terror of biology and biology of terror in the Ginger Snaps trilogy by Patricia Molloy

"The Hair that Wasn't There Before": Demystifying Monstrosity and Menstruation in "Ginger Snaps" and "Ginger Snaps Unleashed" by April Miller

Sister Lovers: The Curse of Queerness in ‘Ginger Snaps’ by Noah Berlatsky

Feminist Flashback: Were-girls Gone Wild in Ginger Snaps (2000)

Queer Moon Rising / Bites and Binaries: Traversing Gender in Ginger Snaps (2000) by Marisa Mercurio

Love, Death and Transformation in Ginger Snaps

Menstrual Monsters: The reception of the Ginger Snaps cult horror franchise by Barker, Martin

Together Forever: Sisterhood and Femininity in Ginger Snaps (Women In Horror Series) by Kelcie Mattson

Ginger Snaps and the impossible task of growing up female

REVIEW: ‘Ginger Snaps’ (2000) Says that Becoming a Woman is an Undue Curse

All Them Witches: How ‘Ginger Snaps’ Teaches Us How to Heal our Bodies by Alisha Mughual

Feminist Flashback: Were-girls Gone Wild in Ginger Snaps (2000)

Werewomen: An Exhumation of Transness in Horror Cinema by Sam Miller

Made To Be Monsters: “Ginger Snaps”

Blood, Hair and Pain: Ginger Snaps at 20

GINGER SNAPS: Horror, Genre and Kick-ass Feminism

Edgy Un/Intelligibilities: Feminist/Monster Theory Meets Ginger Snaps

Desiring Monsters: Femininity, Radical Incontinence, and Monstrous Appetite in Ginger Snaps, Jennifers Body, and Deadgirl by Wills, Deborah

“Out by Sixteen”: Queer(ed) Girls in Ginger Snaps Author: Tanis MacDonald

Just Us Girls by Alice Bolin

Ginger Snaps and the Possession of Womanhood—Konstantina Buhalis

Possessed by Puberty: Dissecting the Monstrous Feminine By Hannah Mourousias

[bewitched-moonlight]

« I started seeing the monstrous feminine everywhere, and, eventually, I found empowerment and agency in those representations. These female monsters did things I could only dream of, or didn't even know I dreamed of doing. They could enact all the anger and rage I felt toward patriarchal society, and then some. Horror can be a way of healing. We all dream of being a monster, and those dreams don't have to be bad ones. »

— Margaret Kingsbury

[beetlewine-art]

We need more silly memes about Female Slashers/monsters interacting, as munch as i love to see crossovers between Jason, Michael, Freddy and Ghostface, i need to see more people talking about what kind of dynamic Ginger Fitzgerald, Jennifer Check and Carrie White would have if they ever meet, munch better if they include Tamara Riley from Tamara (2005) in the group. Because all four of them would be friends... in my head.

You know what? Fuck it, I'll do it myself:

Bonus: Let the Heroines of those movies interact too.

They would defenetly bond over having to kill someone they care about because their transformed into an horrible monster.

[frndly-nbh-enbee]

¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ ꕥ 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝐵𝑅𝐼𝒟𝐸𝒮 ꕥ ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸

[monstrousdesirestudy]

Honestly can’t stop laughing at how half assed Carmilla was about changing her identity. Like first she was Mircalla and then she was like “nvm my name is uhhhhh…Millarca. Yeah. That sounds right” and then years later “fuck it my names Carmilla, none of these bozos have caught on yet.”

[babayanska]

A taste of what's to come - keep your eyes peeled for more development work for Wolf Girl Wicked. This soon-to-be webcomic about the trials and tribulations of turning into a wretched beast every full moon - oh, as well as being trapped in an all-girls boarding school. What could go wrong!

[darkcrowprincess]

Favorite "monster female characters"

Warning spoilers ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Constance Nebbercracker from monster house

2. Ursula from the little mermaid

3. Wandaror/Wanda from the host(couldn't find a gift for her soul form)

4. Simone and Lena scooby doo zombie island

5. Elphaba Thropp Wicked

6. Jennifer from Jennifer's body

7. Medusa Greek Mythology

8. Blair Witch from the blair witch project

9. Monstro Elisasue  from the substance

10. Ariel from the little mermaid(she counts, she was half a sea creature)

11. Rosaline Hale from the twilight saga

12. Leah Clearwater also from the twilight saga

12. Elisa Esposito the shape of water

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Ever since I found out that Mothra is Godzilla’s wife.

[masternest]