Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am but a penniless amateur aiming to feed the hungry masses, and hopefully feed my own demons.

A/N: I would like to preface this by saying that this is a standalone piece that has absolutely nothing to do with Necromancer, my trilogy, or my established background stories for any of these characters. My reasons for writing it are detailed more thoroughly in the author's note at the end. The cover art for this fic was gifted to me by the lovely, talented Mordelle and was drawn by my equally lovely, talented friend Rebekah, also known as GhostlyHauntings. She's the author of Catch 22 and is responsible for DECADES worth of absolutely gorgeous BJ fanart. Seriously, go look at her deviantart or tumblr under the tag ForeverKnight.

WARNING:

This piece portrays bestiality and centers around a graphic, romanticized depiction of sexual assault. I am well aware that what happens to Lydia here is nonconsensual. Her age has been left ambiguous, but I'm imagining her as sixteen, so consider this another warning for underage content. I deeply apologize to those of you who may be offended by the content herein or the point I was attempting to make by writing this fic in the first place, but you have been warned.

MEDUSA COMPLEX ;

A dissociated state produced by a suspension of the fight-or-flight response, leading to a condition of petrified fear. Sometimes considered to be a by-product of a conflict between an idealized, perfect state and the actual reality of one's feelings and emotions.

"We've come for your daughter, Chuck."

A horrible cackle- both high pitched and guttural, shrill and grating- erupted from the serpent as it released its hold on the Deetz patriarch, watching with sadistic glee as the greedy, breakable mortal plummeted to the bottom floor.

"Stop! Stop!" The desperate plea fell from Lydia's lips automatically, despite the sinking knowledge that it was already much too late for her father. Wicked yellow orbs turned on her.

Oh, no. It seemed all she had succeeded in doing was drawing the monster's attention.

"Oh, yeah," it jeered mockingly, slithering her way- as if the beast had been privy to her panicked, private thoughts. Slowly, it encroached on her personal space, taking its sweet, sweet time. This was it. She was going to die. A giant snake with the face of a devil was going to murder her tonight in her own home- likely her entire family as well- and that would be the story of her. There are worse ways to go, a calm voice in the back of her head offered placatingly as she hid her face away in her hands and shrunk further into the corner, bracing herself for death and trying to become one with the shadows.

"Looky what we got here," the creature spoke again, its voice closer this time. Lydia couldn't bring herself to so much as peek through her fingers to reassess the danger. "You ssscared o' me, lil girl?" What the fuck kind of a question was that? Why was she getting the third degree? Delia, Otho, and her father all got nice clean assaults without having to answer any stupid questions. Wasn't it enough that her life now belonged to the monster? Was toying with her before landing the killing blow really necessary?

"Just do it," she bit out into her palms, stubbornly refusing to answer the bizarre inquiry. Death was imminent, her fear or lack thereof be damned. Maybe she would become a ghost like Mr. and Mrs. Maitland. That wouldn't be so bad.

"Goddamn," it wondered aloud, ignoring her ridiculous demand just as she had ignored its ridiculous question. The serpent's breath was cold and humid on the back of her hands. "You're not." Now, Lydia dared to gaze upon the demon. Hesitantly, she peered through the blinds of her fingers and immediately wished she hadn't. Its grin was wide, displaying layers of long, jagged, unsightly teeth. There was something ravenous in its inhuman leer.

It was too much. The prospect of death didn't alarm her nearly as much as the dark desires reflected in the viper's grotesque features. "Please just kill me," she breathed, softer this time, begging instead of ordering.

"Tha'sss no fun," it returned, voice low and mischievous. "Damn wasssteful in my opinion."

The wall behind her disappeared. Without a solid foundation to support her weight, she fell, crying out in surprise as she landed gracelessly on her backside. It was dark here, wherever here was. Shadows cloaked all but she and her captor. An indistinguishable source of light from above shone down on them, illuminating the wicked resolve on the serpent's demonic face. "Nope," it started up again, slithering along until its massive body stood poised over her collapsed form, ready to strike. "I think I like you jusss the way you are."

Horrible understanding dawned on her and she scrambled back in a clumsy, ineffective attempt at escape. A rope of scaled muscle snagged her ankle and yanked, pulling her back so rapidly that her arms flew over her head and the train of her dress rode up toward her knees. Yellow orbs ate up the sight of the creamy, uncovered flesh. The tail wrapped around her ankle slid and coiled along her calf, pushing the thin black material of her dress even further up her leg. Its scales were rough against the sensitive, rarely-exposed skin of her thigh.

Tears streamed down her heated cheeks, red and burning with humiliation. "Aww, baby," it cooed almost gently, ugly mouth twisted with affection. A cold forked tongue darted out to lathe her damp cheek, tasting her despair. "Don't worry. Ain't gonna hurt cha. Gonna make ya feel good. Real good."

If he didn't think he had adequately earned her fear before, he certainly had it now. Lydia could no longer think of the creature as an "it." This was most definitely first and foremost a man, with a man's urges and desires. Helpless and terrified, Lydia stilled completely, eyes clenching shut and entire body going rigid. Her instinctual flight response had already been exhausted. Considering his clearly superior strength and decidedly unreliable promise not to hurt her, she found it unwise to indulge the fight response for fear he might change his mind in retaliation. All that was left to do was disassociate and hope that he was a monster of his word.

"Tha'sss a good girl," he hissed down at her tense, unmoving form, obviously pleased by her submission. His benign reassurances did nothing to tame the suffocating panic that continued to build as she waited for him to just get it over with, do whatever it was that he wanted to do. There was a tug and a rip as his fangs sunk into the flimsy material of her dress, easily tearing it from her shaking body and exposing her similarly black underclothes. She gasped, eyes flying open and arms crossing over her chest protectively. Obsidian fabric hung from his incisors, the pitiful remains of her dress. Yellow orbs were unforgiving with their intensity, boring down at her as though he could see right through the insignificant barriers that still kept her most secret, most sensitive parts hidden.

Again, his palpable hunger was too much for her and she was forced to close her eyes, unable to face it head-on. Sharp teeth scraped against her arms in a barely there caress. Any more pressure than that and surely he would have broken skin. "C'mon now. None o' that, pretty thing. I ssshowed ya mine. Now you show me yoursss…"

Pretty. He thought she was pretty. No one thought she was pretty. Lydia was disgusted to find that she was flattered. Nonetheless, she remained frozen with fear, physically incapable of obeying his simple order despite the internal voice of reason screaming at her to do as she was told lest the creature decide to break his promise and make her his next meal. The rope of icy muscle coiled around her left thigh squeezed. "Have it your way," he sighed in disappointment. For a horrible moment, Lydia damned her paralysis, certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was fed up with her disobedience, and pain would be coming any second now.

Instead, his tail coiled further still up her thigh until the tip could slip through the leg hole of her panties, its thick mass pulling the tiny garment taut against her. All the while his tongue traced lazy patterns down her torso. Deadly fangs occasionally brushed against her soft belly, her abdominal muscles twitching every time they did. "Sssoo sssweet… All mine…"

The bold declaration startled her. Why was he being so gentle? He didn't have to be. It would be so much easier to hate him, to hate this, to escape to the recesses of her mind if he was hurting her. Were his touch rough or brutal she could have just floated away without a care. But he wasn't and it wasn't. Not even a little bit. He was the true animal in this tryst, and yet here he was stroking and petting her as though she were a timid, abused kitten that needed to be taught how to love again.

No, the height of her discomfort stemmed from the realization that she was wet. The humiliating epiphany was forced on her when the blunt tip of his tail, still exploring the confines of her panties, rubbed along the seam of her nether lips, aided by the slick evidence of her involuntary arousal. She whimpered, rotating her hips down and away as best she could. It was a fruitless effort. Undeterred, the scaly appendage followed, pressing and grinding against her mercilessly. Something inside of her was burning, building higher and hotter, threatening to incinerate her from the inside out. Her entire body arched up, arms flying out to her side so that she could grab hold something- anything- and ground herself. There was nothing. Just her, and him, and the empty, crushing shadows.

The serpent was quick to take advantage of her delirium, darting back up her chest to snag the center of her bralette between a razor-sharp fang and pull. With a single clean slice, the black scrap of sheer lace fell away, finally unveiling the soft mounds of her breasts to the cool air. Their pale pink tips were already pebbled, painfully hard from all of his terribly gentle caresses. A snake-like tongue struck her nipple like a whip and she cried out into the void, the subtle maneuver feeling sharper and more intense than it had any right to.

She was going to break. Roaring flames were bellowing just beneath the surface, blistering and cracking away at her stability. Again, he decimated her clothing, ripping his teeth into her underwear and destroying the last vestiges of her modesty with his filthy, razor-filled mouth. The leg that wasn't wrapped up in his hold flailed, her heel pressing against the ground as if she might be able to push herself off and away from his tail's awful- wonderful- wriggling.

The rest of his body was moving, curling, and coiling, positioning her as he saw fit. He slid around and under her twitching body until her head and upper back were resting against the thickest portion of his serpentine form. His demonic head remained poised over her chest, taking turns lathing each breast indiscriminately at a lazy, unhurried pace. Bulbous yellow eyes remained half-lidded as he feasted on her. The yearning that brimmed in their carnivorous depths almost served to gentle his frightful features. Almost.

"Please," she sobbed tearlessly, begging for either a literal or figurative release. This earned her a rumble of pleasure. The monster's entire body from tail to tip was vibrated by the small sound. It nearly shattered her. Warm, tiny hands grasped at the cord of serpentine muscle that kept her imprisoned, needing to hold onto something as his tail continued sliding and pushing against her entrance, forcing her toward a euphoria she never asked for.

"I could get usssed ta that," he drawled in response to her fractured plea, taking a break from his soft, fleshy meal to drink in her flustered state. "If ya ain't careful, I might jusss have ta keep ya."

What a horrible, disgusting, romantic thing to say. The dark implications of the threat gave her a thrill, despite her better judgment. Would it really be so bad if he kept her? She wasn't given any time to ponder the answer to that question. His tail pulsated against her clit and she splintered. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, dragging her down into madness, drowning out the last rebellious whispers of rational thought that desperately sought to keep her sanity intact. A scream tore from her throat, piercing through the dusky emptiness with deafening clarity. The world around her trembled, becoming foggier and foggier as she descended into a hysteria she had no desire to leave…

"Lydia! Baby! Wake up!"

She came to with a gasp; sweating, flustered, and wrapped up in the tender embrace of her husband. Jade eyes were wide and panicked. The cold hand tracing the side of her face quivered, marking his deep upset. Lydia could count on one hand how many times she'd had nightmares while sharing his bed, and he always hated it. They were out of his control and Betelgeuse was not a man accustomed to relinquishing control.

This, however, was not a nightmare. Filthy? Deplorable? Shameful even? Yes. Nightmare? No.

"Beej," she breathed, voice thick with sleep, and brought her own warm hand up to cup his cheek.

"You were moanin'," he informed, pressing kisses to her forehead and hairline. "Sounded hurt."

His attentiveness in the wake of what he perceived as a night terror filled her with affection, warmth pooling in her cheeks and belly. Her thighs clenched. When they slid together without traction, wet and hot, it dawned on her that her illusory orgasm may have had more basis in reality than originally thought.

"Yeah," she agreed with his observations, pale cheeks flushing crimson and a tiny smile pulling at her lips.

The shy gesture made him freeze. Then, an expression she was much more familiar with darkened his face. The hand that had been so lovingly caressing her face slid down, ever so slowly, under the blanket and down her torso until the rough pads of his fingertips were gliding across slick, satiny, sensitive flesh. The contact drew a hiss through his grimy teeth, as though the heat from her body's juices alone was enough to scald. "Gettin' started without me, are ya? Ya gonna tell me what you were dreamin' 'bout?" There was a thinly veiled accusation clouding his jade eyes, daring her to tell him that she had been fantasizing about some other man.

Lydia was half tempted to say just that, if only because she was well aware that to tell him such a thing would turn him into the ravenous beast she knew he truly was under all that mold and dirt. Instead, she chose to remain honest, merciful, and vague. "You. The night we met. What if's."

The heat in his gaze did not waver in the wake of her confession. If anything, it flared and flourished with the confirmation that he was the only one for her, even in her darkest fantasies. "Good," he growled, a cocky grin splitting the seam of his mouth. "Now, let's see about makin' those dreams come true…"

A/N: I wrote this fic for the following reasons:

1.) There's simply not enough snake!Beej/Lydia action in this fandom and there really needs to be more.

2.) This plot bunny has been hopping around my head FOREVER and I needed to get it out. Haven't we all wondered what might have happened to Lydia if Barbara never called Betelgeuse back during the snake scene? To be clear, I don't think that he would actually do this, which is why it's been depicted as Lydia's dream. I like to think that he would have enough respect for her to not outright rape her but to each his own. We all have our own unique headcanons.

3.) I was recently shamed by someone on the internet, a fellow member of this fandom, because I had the audacity to claim that I found a fictional rape scene in another author's fic hot. This person went out of their way to try and make me feel bad about this. It did not work. This is my big fat fuck you to that person and anyone else who tries to dictate what is and isn't okay for me to find sexually gratifying. Rape is bad. Sexual assault is bad. Fantasizing about fictional rape/sexual assault is perfectly healthy and incredibly common. If you're like me and you understand where I'm coming from, I want to make it abundantly clear that there is nothing wrong with you. Everybody has a kink. ;)

Okay! Now that that's over with, please let me know what you think! Any and all opinions are welcome! Polite discussion is wanted and encouraged. Hateful comments will be ignored and deleted.

Those of you who are curious, I have the first five paragraphs of the next chapter of Necromancer banged out. Sorry for the delay, it shouldn't be too much longer until I've got that updated. I've also been beta-ing a story for a friend of mine. It's called Neither Here Nor There and is posted on both Ao3 and FF. It has an incredibly unique premise and the author has some real talent. Make sure and go give it a read and review!