#quarang

Nah- fuck it. i think it's punk as fuck cameron got disney to bankroll his weird horny hippie childhood dream project and spend 15 years on it instead of shitting it out with CGI sweatshops and "we'll decide where they'll have this convo in post." 100% sincere, no whedon speak, no constant nods at the 4th wall, no relying on rebooted IP or extended universe for inspo. they put a whale on trial. they are putting a whale on trial for murder in avatar 3. this is a serious plot beat with zero irony. the planet is a LAN network mixed with brains and plants that also happens to be god. post-knifeplay pillow talk in the trailer. autistic teenage jesus sigourney weaver.

when else do you see pure crackhead blank-check creativity like this in mainstream hollywood anymore I fucking love avatar. i think it's stupid that this site gushes over films like Atlantis: the Lost Empire while avatar is off limits to talk about. we NEED weird ass art. take an edible, pretend you've never seen anything about these flicks, and revisit these films the same way you can for fucking twilight (a franchise with way more imo harmful content directly tokenizing and misrepresenting a REAL community of indigenous people).

this is my propaganda. Reddit chuds started whining about "no cultural impact" because a story that frontlines indigenous struggle against imperialism clashes with fashy notions of maintaining a cultural canon. If something has no cultural impact, that must mean its themes have no cultural relevance, which is why they want to pretend these movies were a massive flop so damn much. criticize the movies all you want but Jesus Christ stop using the chud revisionist line about it. it's cringe. talk about divisive art. if we don't talk, bad actors will spin it to fit their fascistic cultural narrative in any space they can, including blue people.

anyway the big bad gets pet like a dog in this one. go see fire and ass 🤚my final message

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Varang emerges from her dark dwelling once the familiar sounds of the Sky People's flying machines draw near. A smirk curling onto her lips, she follows her people out into the open, beyond the remnants of their hometree. They scatter along the barren, ashen field to greet their new allies as their propellers kick up ash and dry winds. Metal suits walk forward and present boxes of weapons, more than the last shipment, while the man who made this all happen walks toward Varang.

The tsahik's gaze softens into her alluring guise while greeting the man she claimed as hers, "Quaritch."

"Another shipment for ya, baby," Quaritch's southern twang tickles her ears as he chuckles, "Since you folks tend to go through ammo like it's going outta style."

Her posture is approving, gazing over his shoulder to watch her people rummage through the storage containers. When her sharp eyes flick back to the colonel, hunger replaces approval, "Come. I have something to thank you."

Without another word, she takes his hand in hers, pulling him back toward the village. Quaritch grins knowingly, his voice playful, "Thank? I wasn't under the impression you were the thanking type."

"Hm." Her smile is sly, like she knows something he doesn't. She pulls back the flap of her yurt to allow him in first, "But you will thank me for this."

He's admiring her body slowly, pointedly unashamed of his open stare. He makes a show of deciding whether or not to follow, but predictably gives in and ducks his head into her 'cozy' abode.

He lifts a hand to pass through the beaded curtain, his nose immediately crinkling when the scent of something potent invades his nostrils. The colonel can point out a few things he remembers from the last time he was here, such as the incense with a hint of spice, the haunting totems carved from nightmares, and the gentle smoke from the firepit at the center. However, his tail stiffens mid-sway when he takes a deep breath and catches an overpowering aroma that immediately brings saliva to fill his mouth.

A quiet noise echoed in his ears, and as he looked down, he realized he was not alone with Varang as she finally entered the yurt. Another female, clearly Mangkwan, was writhing as if in agony on the floor... completely naked. She was making soft sounds, sighs, and moans that implied she was trying to fight something trying to get out of her, curling in close toward the lit fire in the center of the room. The aroma he smelt earlier fills his nose again as she rubs her thighs together like she was relieving a deep ache. The source of the scent.

"Who's this?" He asks.

Varang stands off to the side, inspecting the colonel with eyes glowing from the fire while she extends her arm out to your direction as if presenting a meal to him, "She is Y/n. One of my most strongest of females, and she is in need of your help." 

Quaritch's eyes inspect you thoroughly, a mess of limbs as you writhe on top of Varang's furs, making some noises that sound like an injured animal. Varang clearly has you high on one of her various concoctions of aphrodisiacs, the pupils of your eyes blown wide until the irises are just thin rings. Your panting fills the room, along with the crackling of the fire, your breasts rising and falling with each desperate gulp of air like a bitch in heat.

Once that last particular thought crosses his mind, Quaritch's eyes narrow, flicking back to Varang, where she can see a growing suspicion in his gaze. Her eyes gleam with mischief, swaying her sultry hips as she moves around her yurt, removing her twin blades from her back and setting them aside.

"We do not breed weakness. Only strength. My people do not mate unless I allow it," she explains to the demon, flashing a smile at him from over her shoulder, "Mangkwan children will only be born from two strong parents. Until then, my people prove themselves to me. They hunt, they kill, and only when I am satisfied, they can finally be allowed to breed."

She moves to a bowl nestled close to the fire just at your feet. Cupping it in one hand, she dips her fingers into the contents, pulling them back out to reveal a honey-like substance. Varang marvels at the sticky residue on her fingers, hardly looking away from it as she kneels beside her female warrior, intently watching as she angles the bowl and lets the substance drip out onto your abdomen.

The groan that leaves your throat sparks a sudden hunger in Quaritch's belly, his cock twitching with interest beneath his pants. He watches as you spread your knees further apart, arching your back to allow whatever Varang dripped on you to slide down, slowly, moving like molasses until it mixes in with the slick of your dripping cunt. Once it meets your clit, your hips try to catch onto any form of friction, humping the air while Varang grins like a cat that got the cream. The tsahik draws closer to you.

"Y/n and her family have served me well. Her brother was one of my divers who readily gave his life for our cause. His sacrifice brought my attention to his sister."

Her red hand traces your jaw and runs down your neck, your flesh rising with small bumps that flicker a thin smile on her face, her eyes transfixed on your movements, "Y/n was eager to show her worth, bringing me six Tlalim kuru braids in our last raid. She has finally proven to me that she is ready to mate."

Quaritch watches Varang dip down, swiftly pulling you into a rough kiss, grasping your bottom lip with her fangs and biting down until she draws blood. Your hips jolt from the sting, raising them high in the air, which ensures the Recom gets a nice waft of your arousal. 

Her hand continues down your body, past your chest, your ribs, until she finds the sticky residue on your stomach. Quaritch couldn't help but be transfixed on the sight, watching Varang spread the substance over her fingers and then dip down to push it deep into your cunt.

Your response was immediate, moaning into her mouth while your hands twitched at your sides, debating on where to hold onto. Your tsahik pumps her fingers in and out for several moments, until she feels more than just her thick concoction slicking up her hand.

Varang finally releases your lip, her teeth stained with blood as she tilts her head in Quaritch's direction, flashing that bloodstained smile with giddiness, "And who better to breed her than the sky man who taught us how to make thunder?"

Silence fills the room apart from your labored breaths and the crackling of the fire. Quaritch eyes his woman down with feigned surprise, genuinely impressed, "You folks are into some kinky shit."

"I will give you permission to mate her, Quaritch. All night long," her wispy little giggle fills the thick air, "Pay no mind if she grows limp. The senses can get overwhelming to a female in heat."

Nonplussed, he gazes between you and Varang, "What makes you think I'd be interested?"

Her sharp eyes not-so-subtly flick down to the obvious tent in his crotch before slowly moving back up his body, "Intuition."

Damn. Got 'im there.

His chuckle is a bit breathy already, unable to help it. The scent coming off you was beginning to affect him like one of Varang's drugs. Not one to turn down such a tempting offer, he moves his hands down to unbuckle the belt in his pants, allowing them to drop to his ankles. Varang grins approvingly as her gaze rakes over his form, her tail swaying behind her with interest. Best not to keep the tsahik waiting, Quaritch finishes undressing completely before he crouches down until he's hovering over you and leaning his face into Varang's space.

The malevolent tsahik pulls her hand out of your cunt at this point, causing you to whine from the ache of being empty once more. She brings her fingers to Quaritch's lips, making him taste you. His ears and tail twitch simultaneously from the burst of flavor that pricks his tongue, the taste tangy and sharp, like a juicy, bloody steak. It's strange but not unpleasant, chalking it up to the carnivorous diet of the Mangkwan and the outside substance that mixes with your slick. 

Quaritch licks around Varang's fingers to oblige her before pulling away, "Any rules?"

"Only one," she reaches around his head and makes a point to grip the base of his kuru tightly, emphasizing with a faint snarl, "You are not allowed to make tsaheylu. This pleasure is for breeding only."

"Whatever you say, cupcake."

In the midst of your daze, you're faintly aware of large, alien hands gripping your thighs and using untameable strength to slide you down, bringing you closer to the large mass of heat that looms over you, the air in between suffocating. The same hands push your thighs until they part beneath the weight, going as far as to press your knees so close to your shoulders and leaving the most intimate parts of your body exposed. Shivers run down your spine as the undeniable length of Quaritch's cock presses down against your cunt, grinding up and down a few times to spread your natural lube along its underside.

Quaritch's breath stutters for a moment, not expecting your heat to feel so warm, sparking desire to quickly ignite his arousal further. The honey-like substance that pooled down to your cunt was warm, just barely on the cusp of too hot, likely activated by the fire. Once he focuses on it, he can feel it start to tingle, adding more friction and pleasure between the two of you. Oh, the Mangkwan are definitely kinky.

Knowing there are no limits besides the bond, he doesn't bother containing himself or holding back. Gripping his girth in one hand, he pumps up and down a few times before looking down to lead the tip to where the tingling substance disappears inside you, catching against your entrance. Without ceremony, Quaritch snaps his hips forward and plunges deep inside your depths.

"Ngh-!" You cry out, immediately tensing around him, your body trying to fight back and push him out when pain erupts below your hips. The stretch burns white-hot, keeping you tense without taking a breath. He doesn't hesitate to grind down to fit himself deeper, immediately bumping up against the spongy entrance to your cervix. He fits in every crevice, almost digging in, molding your body around his cock's shape and leaving your thighs shaking around his cradled hips.

"Jesus--" Quaritch exhales sharply, bowing his head until his chin almost touches his chest as he tries to focus, "She's so tight."

"Well, of course," Varang grins, her pupils dilated as she carefully observes the joined pair, "She has never been bred before, and you are not made like any Ash men, Quaritch."

He groans at the boost to his ego, continuously grinding his pelvis right up against your clit, the friction beginning to soothe the burn inside you. Varang's hand moves down until she reaches your breast, pulling one of the nipples taut, and to a point, her expression pleased from the way your back arches to push your chest further into her touch.

"I did not properly prepare her for your size, but she had begged me to keep it that way. She wanted it to burn."

The word echoes in his ear until he can't take it any longer. He pulls all the way out of your cunt, and then slams back in, growling deep in his chest when you clench around him again. Your cries grow louder, eyes hazy and barely peeking out beneath your lids as you writhe beneath him, unsure if the feeling is too much or not enough once he starts to find his desired pace.

Plap, plap, plap. 

Sounds of sweat and skin slapping together fill Quaritch's ears as his quick and steady rhythm has him rising up and grinding down on top of you, his fingers curling roughly into the furs on either side of your head while heat narrows down to one point deep in his abdomen. The colonel looks down to where he's fucking into you, enthralled as your cream and the amber-colored substance fills the room with the most obscene sounds of sticky slick each time his cock disappears between your puffy lips. It clings to his pelvis and thighs in thick strings every time he draws back, leaving the scene before him downright filthy.

"Many of our men try to make up for their size with bone," Varang absently explains while leaning down to pull your neglected nipple into her mouth, the threat of her fangs causing your hips to jolt, meeting Quaritch's mid-thrust and leaving you both moaning simultaneously. 

Varang preens from your shared reactions as she licks over your nipple and presses her cheek to your tit, peering up at Quaritch while her voice drops to something akin to sweet and sultry, "They smooth the bone and pierce it into their flesh, made to leave more pleasurable ridges."

She giggles sadistically, the vibrations reverberating against your nipple, "You would not believe how often the piercing gets stuck inside the female, forcing the mates to stay intertwined for endless time or until they eventually have to come to me for help. I make sure not to let the process of separating them be painless. It is the consequences of their foolishness. At the very least, it ensures that the female is properly bred."

It shouldn't be so seductive, but this was Varang talking, and Quaritch hadn't realized his thrusts were beginning to pick up speed. You whine each time he thrusts back in, bullying his way into your cunt with possessiveness similar to a male in rut.

The Mangkwan tsahik hums with approval, leaning up to bite at his ear, letting her warm breath go down his neck, "But you do not need such trivial objects to pleasure a woman, do you? My sky man. He does not need anything because there is nothing to make up for."

The sudden impact of his hips against yours sends you keening, the barbed tip of his cock beginning to zero in on the little entrance of your cervix, precum soothing the sting. A guttural noise escapes your throat, your hands beginning to claw at whatever you can reach: his hands, his forearms, until they settle on scratching down his abs. Tears prick your gold eyes, smearing the ash paint around them

Quaritch is ramming into you now. Plapplapplap--

Beads of sweat collect in his frown lines, his tanhì flashing bright in tandem with his thrusts, growing faster and faster, ripples and heat running up your stomach in response, elicting soft howls from your lips. Instinct that he didn't know he had told him to stop his pace for a moment to just simply grind down, gritting his teeth as he feels the sensitive tip of his cock incessantly rubbing against the roof of your cervix, the small opening now softened and a bit wider with the help of his precum.  

Gritting his teeth together, the colonel's lips pull back in a deep snarl, "Need to flip 'er over."

Delight sparks Varang's expression, quickly sitting back and admiring her strong man pulling out of your sopping pussy and harshly flipping you over onto your stomach. You make a startled noise before it's cut off by the male pressing you down into the furs with his full weight, his chest rubbing against your back while his muscled arm wraps around your throat and pillows your head in the crook of it. You cough from the pressure on your neck, only to quickly forget it when his cock slides back inside you, eyes rolling back into your head as he mounts you. 

He's not deterred by your screaming, knowing how much you like this angle from the way you squeeze him with each thrust. However, it is starting to ring in his ears, so he tightens his arm around your neck, his cock twitching as you wheeze and choke. His free hand roams down and slides under you, finding your stomach.

Ears pinning back, Quaritch presses his forehead hard against your shoulder blade, "Shit--"

Beneath his fingertips is your skin, roughened by a harsh life of ash and scarification. But underneath that, he can feel it. His cock can be felt sliding in and out of you, forming a bulge to mark how deep he is inside you. The colonel can't help but press his hand against it, groaning loudly when it only adds more pressure.

The pressure leaves you crying and clawing all over his forearm, desperate for some sort of reprieve. Sounds of your pussy squelching as he pistons in and out fill your ears, your walls like suctions trying to pull his cock in further and further. You tail loops around his arm that's pressed against your tummy, breath leaving your lungs as he digs in his knees and drills into you like he's the one in heat.

Varang tilts her head while watching, mischief and sadistic delight all over her face. She leans down close to your face, her thumb brushing a bead of sweat that almost fell into your eye.

"Oeyä tsamsiyu," [my warrior] she coos callously, "Do you wish for him to breed you?"

You cry and hiss, trying to push your rear back against the man pinning you down, "Yes, tsahik. Please let him fill me."

She bites back a grin, "You will continue to serve me?"

"Yes, tsahik, until your fire consumes me." A sharp gasp is punched out of you when Quaritch thrusts particularly hard to a point he pushes you forward, your breasts grazing the ticklish furs beneath you as you jolt. You're panting for breath, practically rambling in your desperation, "I will bear you more strong warriors and hunters. They will feed your flames for all time."

Your vow thrills her immensely, cupping your face in her hand with reverence, "Such devotion should be rewarded."

You whimper with relief, your face burrowing into Quaritch's arm once Varang lets you go. There's a different kind of pressure building deep inside you, ready to burst and run down like hot magma. Quaritch grinds his teeth together, trying to concentrate, his balls tightening up with the threat of release.

Varang's voice suddenly sounds loud in his ear while her hot breath pricks his skin, "Breed her, Quaritch. And do not stop until every drop is seeded inside her."

There's a roar bellowing in his chest, unable to contain it as his orgasm finally washes over him, breaking out into a fresh sheen of sweat, unable to stop his hips from continuously pumping you full of his cum. It flows into your womb in small pulses of thick ropes, flooding your insides and your senses. It's a rush that manages to push you over the edge as well, clawing at the ground while your pussy clamps down around his twitching cock, keeping him locked inside while every inch of your body shakes in ecstasy, your juices running down both of your and Quaritch's thighs. 

Quaritch continues to growl and thrust, both a little sluggish and half-assed now, drawing out the high and the exhaustion. He doesn't stop until you've ridden all the way through your orgasm and grow limp beneath him, your walls finally relaxing to the point he can finally pull out. Your body releases him, and he unceremoniously lets go of your unconscious form, falling to his side, panting for breath, his cock spent between his muscled thighs. Every inch of him is covered in sweat, dampening his hair while he sits up on his elbow.

Varang shuffles down your body, a low hum of approval vibrating in her chest as she finds your used cunt trying to push out white droplets of your breeder's cum, her fingers finding their way back inside you to ensure none of it goes to waste. The sight before her is erotic, to say the least. You, passed out on your stomach, curled into the furs, while Quaritch is still trying to calm his racing heartbeat, chuckling whenever he gets an ounce of oxygen. Varang rubs her own thighs together to relieve some of her own ache.

He wheezes out one of those signature chuckles when he catches her looking at him, "All night long, huh?"

"Yes."

His grin is feral yet exhausted, "I'm gonna need a small respite before the second round."

"Well, then, you can make yourself useful by lying down," Varang swiftly moves until she's straddling his chest, pushing him onto his back without waiting for a reply, her eyes bore a hunger that would make many people think she was out for blood, not for relief, "I will ride your face for my own pleasure until you are ready to flood Y/n with your seed once more."

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A/n: It's been a while! I'm hopeful in keeping this blog alive with Fire & Ash out now. I haven't played From the Ashes yet, but I'm excited to!

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