🚩This is an adult blog, dni if you are underage. Please put your age in some fashion on your blog ("In my 20s," "born in the 90s," the point is, you've got options!), or I WILL block you.
You'll see many reblogs and perhaps my own drabbles/works of fiction, too. If you see your work on my blog and wish for it to be removed or it's incorrectly credited, please send me a message, and I will happily fix it! This is also a sideblog 🩵
My loves, in no particular order, because who can pick just one beast?
Werewolves
Orcs
Shifters
Naga
Minautors
Gargoyles
Merfolk
Demons
Dragons
Aliens
Anything human resembling too (Fae, vampires, etc.)
This list is liable to grow 😉
I love multiple genres of monsters, from historical fiction to modern depictions (like co-habitation) and sci-fi! Polyam monsters is also super hot, and I love it. Feel free to ask questions, I might just answer.
Kinks and things you'll find here:
Breeding/impregnation, cnc and dubcon, size differences, kidnapping/abduction, slave/master, light degradation, multiple partners and polyamory, choking, dirty talk, yandere.
As I think of more I will add them to act as cw before you continue scrolling here
This is an AI-free space. I will never use AI, and do not condone the use of it. While I don't have many original works on here, do NOT feed my work into AI. Better yet, don't steal anyone's work to feed into AI!
#curiousmons is created by yours truly
#curiousmons writes includes the short stories/imagines/reader inserts with all the spice that my dirty lil mind concocts
#my monster mania manifesting as a self call-out when I'm being horny as shit
#soft sweeties for the abnormal sft post, or those that give the warm fuzzies inside (no, you pervert, not a werewolf litter)
I think the biggest thing mascot horror things need to get a grip on is the reasonable balance of cute/creepy. The mascot in question needs to be cute enough to realistically be for children but scary enough to actually make for effective horror. Most games always lean too far in either direction and idk maybe it's just me but immersion with these kinds of games are important for me to actually find enjoyment in them.
I think ao3 is literally the only site where no censorship means no censorship. you can post the most vile things on there — things that will get taken down on any other platforms — and ao3 will protect you, your works, and your rights to create whatever you want, however you want.
and no, this isn’t me saying “write that messed up, disgusting thing” because while, yes, write it if it’s what you want (I myself enjoy writing dark fics, something I believe would be considered “vile” to a lot of people), this is me saying in a world of censorship and capitalism, ao3 really is a treasure.
Torn between wanting an intellectual monster partner that I can learn and hear about monster society from, and a sex-crazed beast that stalks me for the perfect time to kidnap me to return to their cave for a breeding frenzy
Bestial monster that gets more stalker-y and kind of feral around their rut/heat, but that’s considered normal and acceptable in monster society. All part of the courtship monsters go through when choosing a mate, wherein the stalker learns as much as they can about the stalk-ee and leaves them gifts. Meanwhile, the stalk-ee was usually a monster with keen senses that was fully aware it was happening and could stop it if they wished, or even stalk the stalker right back to show their piqued interest. If all went well what followed was usually what monsters called “a proper first date.”
You knew this particular monster before from work, and they were always very smart, dapper, and kind. You couldn’t help but feel safe around them, even if many of your peers were monsterphobic. You loved learning about monster society from them, even asked them how dating worked a few times, trying to imagine how that would work between you two.
However, they failed to tell you that tidbit about monster mating habits. Then their heat/rut hit, and you, a human, entirely unequipped with the monstrous senses and skills needed to play the courtship games correctly, not to mention blissfully unaware of the rules at play, may have accidentally “stalked” them back by bumping into them while they were on the prowl. In an instant you were thrown over their shoulder and carried away.
Now that you’re stuck in their den, you get to hear all about the mating rituals they glossed over before due to knowing humans would find it uncouth—in between breeding sessions of course. Luckily for you, your new mate is not oblivious to the customs of humans even if the fog of rut/heat made them forget their senses for a bit. After a few days of thorough aftercare, they make sure to treat their new mate to a lovely candlelight dinner once you’ve recovered. They hope it at least partly makes up for blindsiding you, even if it was the best sex of your life and you’re going to be sure that they do it again, and again, and again~
The male siren who works at the same bar as you can only transform through skin-on-skin contact with a human. The bar has become twice as popular ever since he was hired, which is great news for your boss. The task of helping your coworker shift between forms is entirely up to you, and touching his shoulder or arm is usually enough.
Lately the transition time has been taking longer and longer, leaving the siren drained of energy and panting by the time he transitions into his human form. You can tell something is wrong, so you ask. He's visibly embarrassed as he tells you that he needs more contact to shift properly, and all the previous times he's been forcing it.
You let him know you're more than okay with it, and end up hugging him awkwardly over the edge of the blowup bathtub that's been set up for him in the backroom. He's in his human form almost in the blink of an eye, and you share a triumphant laugh. A week passes just fine, but by the eighth day, he's having a hard time once again. It doesn't help that he's supposed to go on stage in ten minutes.
He's stressing out, tugging at his hair and chirping in distress. You've never heard him make that sound before. You decide to clamber into the bathtub with him. Water splashes everywhere as he flails in confusion for a second, but he calms down the moment you wrap your arms around him. A small trill of content escapes him. After a minute he taps you on the shoulder, and you realize it worked. You get out and let him get ready while you squeeze the water out of your clothes as best as you can.
He brushes his cheek against yours affectionately, thanking you before he dashes onto the stage. His voice is particularly enchanting that night.
can you write an imagine where the orc chieftain takes notice of fem!reader after they raided a village and he starts courting her in ways she's not familiar so she's just ignoring him. he got annoyed with the ignoring, so one night, he got so drunk and ended up at her place, he saw her, just finished taking a shower, towel wrapped on her body, he started mumbling how annoyed he is and she just stares at him. then in the middle of it, throws up and ended up sleeping at her couch. she let him, but gets uneasy knowing the chieftain is just outside her room. she approaches her in the middle of the night and starts touching his form. he wakes up, grabs her hand and kisses her. then he confesses his feeling and he ended up railing her so hard she wakes up with bruised cervix. plsss help a girl out
The Way Orcs Love: Part 1 (Orc Chieftain x f!Reader)
After orcs raid your village, the chieftain becomes obsessed with courting you. You ignore his advances because you don't understand orc customs. One night, he is frustrated and drunk, and he stumbles into your home and everything changes...
TW: chieftain/commoner, village raid, drunkenness, courting, size difference, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, emotional, primal, breast worship, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, orgasm denial, P in V, cervix bruising, pain kink, aftercare.
A/N: Hey friend! I'm so so sorry it took so much to work on this. I added extra stuff and I am planning a short, fluffy EPILOGUE too, so I hope they make it up to you!
Also, this request gave me old-time vibes, so I imagined it in a medieval-like setting! I only changed your "throwing up" idea because it was easier to get inspired and write the smut without it. So, our big dumb orc just gets gloriously drunk and emotional. Enjoyyyyy!!
---------------------------------
Three moons have passed since the orcs swept through your village.
You remember the chaos, the screaming, the clang of weapons, the way the earth shook beneath boots the size of your forearm.
But you also remember him. The chieftain. Standing a head taller than his warriors, tusks gleaming, his emerald eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.
And then... nothing.
He took your supplies. Your livestock. A few crates of dried meat your grandmother had salted last winter. But not a single villager died. Not even old Martha, who threw a chamber pot at his head and called him a "green-skinned devil."
He left you all breathing. Bruised, terrified, but alive.
And then he started coming back.
Not with his war band. Not with weapons. Just him, alone, every few days. Appearing at the edge of your house with offerings that make absolutely no sense to you.
A perfectly smooth river stone.
An eagle feather.
A pouch of extremely expensive orcish mead.
A freshly killed rabbit.
You've accepted none of it.
Not because you're ungrateful. Not because you don't notice the way his broad shoulders slump a little more each time you shake your head and turn away. But because what is happening?
You're a weaver. A nobody. You mend shirts and spin wool and occasionally help the blacksmith's wife pull weeds from her vegetable patch. You are human, not a female orc for chieftains to leave offerings.
So you ignore him.
You ignore the way his gaze follows you when you walk to the stream to wash clothes.
You ignore the way he grumbles under his breath when you pretend not to see the wildflowers he's left on your windowsill.
You ignore the way your heart races every single time, because he's massive, terrifying and yet beautiful in that brutal way orcs are.
You ignore him so thoroughly that you've almost convinced yourself you don't care.
But tonight something is different.
You're standing in your small cottage, a threadbare towel wrapped around your body, hair still dripping from the bath you just took. The fire roars in the hearth, warming you up. You're reaching for your sleeping shift when you hear a thud.
Then a groan.
Then the unmistakable sound of someone large and clumsy attempting to navigate your doorstep.
Had you forgotten to lock? Damn!
The door swings open before you can latch it.
And there he is.
The chieftain.
Drunk.
His green skin is flushed across his cheekbones, his green eyes glassy and unfocused. He sways on his feet, one massive hand braced against the doorframe to keep himself upright. His tunic is unlaced, revealing his broad chest and the dark hair trailing down his ridged stomach.
He blinks at you.
Slowly.
Like he's trying to figure out if you're real.
"You—" He hiccups, then points a wavering finger at your face. "You."
You clutch the towel tighter, suddenly very aware that you're wearing almost nothing. "Chieftain. It's the middle of the night."
"Is it?" He squints toward the window, as if confirming this information. "Huh."
"You're drunk."
"Yes." He says it like he's proud of it.
"You should go home."
He doesn't move. His gaze drifts down from your face, lingers on the curve of your shoulder where the towel has slipped, on your damp throat, on the swell of your breasts. His throat works. His jaw tightens.
"Can't," he says.
"Can't what?"
"Can't go home." He takes a staggering step inside, and you instinctively step back. The movement makes your towel hitch higher on your thighs. His eyes track the motion. "Home doesn't have you."
Your heart hammers. "Chieftain—"
"Kolf," he says. "My name. Use it. Please. Please. I'm so tired of 'Chieftain.' I'm tired of you ignoring me. I'm tired of leaving you presents you never touch. I'm tired of smelling you on the wind and not being able—"
He breaks off, swaying again, and catches himself on your table.
A clay cup topples and rolls to the floor.
You stare at him.
Kolf. You don't want to say his name out loud. You are scared it will affect you in ways you wouldn't expect.
"Why?" you whisper.
"Why what?"
"Why are you—" You gesture at him, at the door, at the entire impossible situation. "Doing this?"
"Because you're mine."
"I'm what?"
"Mine," he says powerfully. "I saw you. During the raid. Standing in front of your grandmother. Little thing, shaking like a leaf, but you didn't run. You didn't beg. You just—" He exhales, dragging a hand through his dark hair. "Stood there. Looked at me like I was the monster everyone says I am, but you didn't flinch."
Your throat tightens. "I was terrified."
"I know." He takes another step closer, and this time, you don't move back. "But you didn't run. Do you know how rare that is? How fucking rare?"
"Kolf—" You bite your lips. Damn...now you'd done it now.
"I brought you things. Good things! Pretty things. Things orc males give females they want to court. And you... you just kept ignoring me."
You open your mouth to explain, to tell him that you didn't know, that no one ever taught you orc courting customs, that you thought he was just taunting you—
But he doesn't let you speak.
"I like you! I like the way you hum when you work. I like the way you roll your eyes at the sky when it rains. I like the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, and you're almost always annoyed, and I like it. I like you. And you won't even look at me."
He's standing close now. Close enough that you can smell the mead on his breath, the pine and earth of his skin, the heat radiating off his massive body. His chest rises and falls in ragged breaths. His eyes, that impossible green, are glossy.
"You need to—"
"I'm sorry," he blurts. "For the raid. For taking your things. For scaring you. I didn't.. I didn't know how else to see you. Your village. Your face. I thought if I came with my warriors, you'd—" He breaks off. "I'm not good at this. I'm not good at words. I'm good at fighting. At leading. At taking what I want. But you... you're not something you take. You're something you earn. And I don't know how to earn you—"
All of a sudden, his knees buckle.
You lurch forward, catching him—or trying to. He's three times your size, for god's sake. A mountain of muscles and your poor arms barely wrap around his torso. Your strength is not enough and he's going down, dragging you with him.
But he twists at the last second, curling his body around yours, and you land on top of his chest instead of the floor. His back hits the wooden planks with a thud. His eyes flutter.
"Kolf?"
He groans.
"Kolf!"
His breathing evens out. His massive arms, which had somehow wrapped around you, go slack.
He's asleep.
Face wrinkling, you push yourself up, staring down at the unconscious orc sprawled across your floor. His lips are parted. His tusks glint. One of his hands is still curled loosely around your ankle.
"Damn it," you whisper.
Eventually, you manage to drag him onto the couch.
It takes an embarrassingly long time. He's heavy. Every limb feels like it's filled with stone. But you push and shove and grunt and curse until his massive frame is folded onto the worn cushions, his boots hanging off one end, his head lolling against the armrest.
You stand back, breathing hard, and look at him.
The fire is low now, crackling and the dim light paints his face in warm gold. In sleep, he looks younger and softer. The hard lines of his jaw relax. His brow smooths. One of his hands twitches, reaching for something that isn't there, and settles on his chest.
He brought you gifts, you think. For three moons. And you ignored him.
Because you didn't understand.
Because no one ever taught you that an orc chieftain leaving an eagle feather on your windowsill meant I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.
Because you're stubborn and scared and so used to being invisible that you didn't know what to do with someone seeing you.
You pull a blanket from your bed and drape it over him. He murmurs something in his sleep, a rumble you can't quite make out, and his hand catches the edge of the blanket, pulling it tighter around himself, smelling it, smiling in his sleep.
You should go to your room.
You should.
But your feet won't move.
Instead, you sink onto the floor beside the couch and you watch him.
He likes you.
The thought settles warmly into your chest. He likes you.
And you... foolish, stubborn, terrified you... might like him back.
******
Hours pass. You are in bed but you can't sleep.
You lie there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the occasional rumble of his breathing from the other room.
Something in you burns.
You are hot and curious.
You want to see him again.
Sighing, you slip out of bed before you can talk yourself out of it. Your feet carry you barefoot across the cold wooden floor, past the hearth where the fire has died to embers, to the couch where he lies.
He hasn't moved. One arm is thrown over his head, the other draped across his stomach. The blanket has slipped to his waist and his tunic is even more open, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the trail of dark hair that vanishes beneath the waistband of his trousers.
You kneel beside him.
And reach out.
Your fingers hover over his chest then, gently, you touch him.
Warm. He's so warm. His skin is rougher than you expected, textured with scars and raised ridges of old wounds. His chest hair is coarse, curling around your fingers as you press deeper.
He doesn't stir.
Emboldened, you trace the line of his collarbone, the strong column of his throat, the sharp jut of his jaw. His tusks feel smooth and cool.
Beautiful, you think. He's beautiful.
Your hand drifts lower, skimming over his stomach. The muscles there tense beneath your touch, even in sleep, and you feel the hard ridges of his abdomen, the V-shape that disappears beneath his trousers.
Your breath catches.
And his hand catches yours.
"Caught you," he murmurs. His eyes open, just a crack. "Been waiting. For you to touch me."
"Kolf—"
"You don't get to stop now." He sits up, and you scoot back on your heels, but he follows. His massive hand engulfs yours, pulls it back to his chest, presses your palm flat against his heart. It's pounding. Hard. "Feel that? That's what you do to me. Every time I see you. Every time I smell you."
"Smell me?"
"Like honey." He leans closer, and his free hand cups the back of your neck. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin behind your ear. "Like mine."
"Y... You're drunk—"
"Not anymore." His eyes are clear now. "Sober enough to know what I want. Sober enough to know I've wanted it for three fucking moons."
"What do you want?"
He doesn't answer with words.
He kisses you.
His mouth crashes against yours, tasting of mead and something uniquely him. His tusks graze your lower lip, careful, and you gasp against his mouth. He swallows the sound, pulls you closer, wraps both arms around you and lifts you onto his lap.
Your knees bracket his hips. Your shift—gods, you're still only wearing a thin shift—rides up your thighs. His hands settle on your waist, and his fingers dig into the soft flesh there, grip you like he's afraid you'll disappear.
"Tell me to stop," he rasps against your lips. "Tell me no, and I'll stop. I'll walk out that door and never bother you again. But if you want this—"
"I want this."
The words leave your mouth before you can think about them. Before you can talk yourself out of them. They are raw and honest, and he breaks.
"Thank the gods," he groans, and he's kissing you again, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming down your back, your hips, your thighs.
"I didn't know," you manage between kisses. "The gifts. The courting. I didn't know."
He pulls back. His eyes are dark, dilated. "What do you mean, you didn't know?"
"No one told me." You press your forehead to his. "I thought you were mocking me. Taunting me. I didn't know orcs—"
"Fuck." His hands tighten on your hips. "Fuck, sweetheart. All this time. You thought I was mocking you?"
"Your people raided my village."
"We took supplies. We didn't hurt anyone. I gave orders—" He breathes out harshly. "I'm not good at this. I've never—I've never wanted anyone like this. I didn't know how to—" He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. For the raid. For scaring you. For not explaining. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
"But I—"
"Kolf." You cup his face in your hands, feel the rough stubble on his jaw, the smooth curve of his tusks. "I'm here. I'm choosing to be here. With you. That's what matters."
He smiles. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He kisses you softly. Briefly. "Bed?" he murmurs.
"Bed."
He carries you to your bed like you're made of glass. Which is hilarious, because two seconds later, he's tearing the shift off your body and staring at you like he wants to devour you.
"Sweetheart," he rasps. "Look at you."
You're naked beneath him, spread across your thin mattress, and he's still fully clothed. Tunic unlaced, trousers straining over his obvious bulge. A very very prominent bulge. The sight makes your mouth water.
"Too many clothes," you manage.
"Agreed."
He strips without care. Tunic over his head, revealing wide shoulders, a chest carved like granite, and arms thick with muscle and crisscrossed with old scars. His trousers follow, and then his—
Oh.
His cock.
You've never been with an orc before. You've heard stories; whispered rumors in the village about what orc males keep between their legs. But stories didn't prepare you for this.
It's massive. Thick and long, veined, the head flushed a darker green, leaking profusely. His balls hang heavy beneath, drawn tight against his body.
"He's friendly," Kolf says, catching you staring. "I promise."
"He's terrifying."
"He'll behave." He crawls onto the bed, over you, caging you with his arms. His thighs bracket yours, and you feel the heat of him, the weight of him. "Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Can't make any promises about the rest of me."
Before you can spiral, he kisses you again. His mouth claims yours, his tongue strokes against your teeth, your palate, everything. You moan into him, wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer.
His hand slides down your body, over your collarbone, your sternum, the curve of your ribs, until he reaches your breast. He cups it, weighs it in his palm, and his thumb drags across your nipple making you gasp.
"Sensitive?" he murmurs against your throat.
"Yes."
"Good."
He bends his mouth to your breast, and you feel his hot tongue lapping at your nipple before drawing it into his mouth. He suckles gently at first, then harder, and you arch off the bed, fingers tangling in his hair.
"Kolf—"
"So pretty," he murmurs against your skin. "Wanted to do this. For months. Wanted to taste you. Touch you. Hear you."
He switches to your other breast, giving it the same attention, and you're wrecked. Your thighs clench around his hips, desperate for friction, for something.
"Please," you whimper.
"Please what?"
"I need—"
"I know what you need." He kisses down your sternum, your stomach, the jut of your hipbones. "Going to take care of you, sweetheart. Going to worship you."
He settles between your thighs, and you feel his ragged breath against your pussy.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Look at this pretty cunt."
You're soaked. You can feel it the slickness, the way your flesh aches for him.
"Kolf—"
His mouth covers you, and your thoughts dissolve.
His tongue is everywhere. Lapping at your folds, circling your clit, plunging inside you. He groans against your flesh like you're the best thing he's ever tasted, and his hands grip your thighs, holding you open and immobile for him.
"Oh—" You buck against his face, and he growls. "Ahh, ghnnn—"
"So sweet. Tastes like honey. Like mine. Could eat my mate's little cunt forever."
"Kolf, I'm going to—"
"Not yet." He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, then your mound, then lower. "Not until I say."
"Hgn... that's cruel."
Growling, he continues his attack; licking, sucking, fucking you with his tongue until you're a shaking, sobbing mess, begging him for release. And still, he denies you. Keeps you teetering on the edge, right there, right there—and then pulls back.
"Please!" you cry out. "Please, Kolf, I can't—"
"You can." He kisses his way back up your body, and you feel his cock leaking against your thigh. "You can take more. I know you can, sweetheart."
He reaches down, guides himself to your entrance, and you feel the head of him nudging at your folds.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Yes. Yes."
A little roll of his hips and he pushes inside you.
Just the head at first and you gasp at the stretch. He's so big. Bigger than anything you've ever taken.
"Breathe," he murmurs, kissing your forehead. "Breathe, sweetheart. I've got you."
You force yourself to relax, to welcome him, and he sinks deeper. An inch. Two. Three. Your body yields to him, inch by agonizing inch. It takes forever but at some point, he's finally seated to the hilt.
"Fuck," he groans, and his forehead drops to yours. "So tight. So perfect. Squeezing me like you never want me to leave."
You can't speak. Can't think. The fullness of him, the way he stretches you, the way your body clenches around him have completely taken over.
"Okay?" he asks.
"More than okay."
He laughs softly and begins to move.
His thrusts are slow at first. Each one presses a sweet spot deep inside you, making stars burst behind your eyes. You cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist.
"Look at me," he rasps.
You open your eyes, and he's watching you. Watching the way your face contorts with pleasure, the way your lips part, the way your body responds to his.
"I want to remember this," he says. "Want to remember the way you look when I'm moving inside you."
"Kolf—"
"Mine." He thrusts deeper, and you cry out. "Say it."
"Yours."
Another deep stroke. "Mine."
"Yours, I'm yours—"
He speeds up, and the bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall. His hips piston against yours, and you feel everything—the drag of his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the way his breathing turns uneven and desperate.
"Going to fuck you so hard," he growls, "you feel me for days. Going to bruise that pretty little cunt. Make you remember who you belong to."
"Yes—"
"Sweetheart." He shifts his angle, and you mewl. "That's it. That's the spot. There."
He pounds into you and you feel your orgasm building—not the teasing edges he gave you before, but something enormous. Something that is about to explode.
"Come for me," he commands. "Come on your orc's cock, sweetheart. Now."
You break. Your walls clamp down on him, pulsing, milking, and you sob his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. He doesn't stop. Keeps fucking you through it, keeps driving into you, and the sensation triggers little climaxes.
"One more," he says. "Give me one more."
"I can't—"
"You can."
Reaching between your bodies, he finds your clit and circles it. Torments it. Another orgasm hits before the previous has even faded. Your whole body convulses, your vision whites out.
"That's it," he groans. "That's my girl. Fuck—"
He buries himself to the hilt, and lets out a feral snarl. You feel him pulse inside you, endless ropes of his seed pouring into your pussy. He keeps thrusting through it, shallow now, drawing out every last drop, and you whimper at the overstimulation.
But he doesn't stop.
He can't.
"I'm not done with you," he drawls. "Not even close."
Pulling out slowly, he's rolling you onto your stomach, ignoring the streams of his seed trickling down your thighs. He lifts your hips and aligns himself at your entrance.
"Kolf—"
"I said I was going to bruise you." He impales you and you moan into the pillow. "I meant it."
He fucks you again. And again. And again.
He fucks you on your stomach, on your side, with your legs wrapped around his neck and your ankles crossed behind his head. He fucks you against the headboard, against the wall, on the floor when the bed groans too loudly.
He fucks you until you lose count of your orgasms, until you're nothing but a trembling, sobbing, sated mess beneath him.
And when he finally spills inside you for the last time, when he collapses beside you, pulling you against his chest, you feel it.
That ache. Deep inside you. Where his cock has been pounding for hours.
Your cervix is bruised.
And you can't stop smiling.
********
The Morning After...
Sunlight streams through the cracks in your curtains, and you wake to warmth.
Kolf is asleep behind you, one arm thrown over your waist, his face buried in your hair. He's spooning you, his breathing slow and even, his chest rising and falling against your back.
You try to move.
Ow.
Everything hurts. Your thighs are sore. Your breasts are tender. And between your legs... gods, there's an ache that goes deep. Your cervix feels bruised. And you've never been happier.
"Morning," he mumbles against your neck.
"You're awake."
"Wasn't sleeping." He presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Was enjoying you."
"You're creepy."
"You enjoy it."
You elbow him gently, and he laughs, a sound that vibrates through your entire body.
"How do you feel, sweetheart?" he asks, sitting up to look at you.
"Sore."
"Good sore or bad sore?".
"Good sore," you admit. "Really good sore."
"Good." He kisses your neck, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. "That's what I wanted."
You turn in his arms to face him. "You wanted to bruise me."
"I wanted you to remember me." His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs, and you gasp when his fingers find your swollen, sensitive pussy. "Every time you walked today. Every time you sat down. Every time you moved."
"You're insufferable."
"You're mine," he says with a smile. His smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
You pout. "You say it it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like the sun rising. Like the tide coming in."
He grins. "It is. You're mine and I'm yours."
"Yeah," you whisper. "I'm yours."
-------------------------------------
And because I am in love with them, give me a few days and I will write a short, fluffy epilogue, too!
There’s so much appreciation for nonhuman genitalia when it comes to dicks and I love it but honestly there should be more love for nonhuman pussy too. Some pitches:
- double clit. Like, if something has a double dick then the same species can have a double clit, right? Double the fun for the monsters with vaginas too
- similarly to the previous, double vaginal channel for expert level fingering
- aphrodisiac slick. Just, aphrodisiac slick
- creature whose genitals are basically sealed when unaroused so you have to slowly tease the slit and worked it open
- inhuman labia? Like multiple sets of them, or in multiple colors, or in strange shapes
And cookies/spades. It’s a basic one, sure, but one that I’ve noticed a lot of people shy away from, which is so bizarre considering how popular knotted/canine dicks are
a monster whos vaginal canal is lined with cartilaginous bands, similar to an esophagus. maybe it can even pull things further into it too
a vaginal canal thats all bumpy and textured, like how there are a BUNCH of monster dildos with weird bumps n stuff
prehensile clitoris that can wrap around the base of the penis of whatevers penetrating the monster
mazelike vaginas similar to ducks and dolphins, requiring expert handling to give the monster a good time. maybe it eats you if you dont please it well enough, idk
retractable teeth in the vagina for if the beast doesnt like what youre doing
maybe little osteoderm-eqsue ridges internally, again similar to the bumps from earlier, but rougher
contemplating a fantasy setting where people just sort of turn into dragons sometimes, and it does happen and people know about it but it’s not predictable or common enough that anyone thinks it’ll happen to them
you’ve been dating this trans girl for a couple months when she just goes radio silent with no warning. you know enough to be slightly worried by that, so you ask around until you get her address and you go find her
when you get to the apartment, the door isn’t locked. you go in, and the place is trashed. empty pizza boxes everywhere, a collapsed bookshelf, stuff all over the floor, you name it. you’re suddenly a bit more worried she’s been kidnapped or robbed or something than about her mental health
you can hear something that sounds a bit like crying from what you assume is her bedroom. you call her name, and she (it’s definitely her, you know her voice) yelps in surprise. you hurry into the room just in time to see a large dog-sized dragon shove herself under the blankets, and the big bulge in the middle of the bed goes “go away. im a monster. i wouldn’t want to date a dragon either.”
instead of going away, you sit down on the bed and talk to her. it takes you a half hour to convince her to come out so you can see her, and another twenty minutes to be willing to touch you and let you touch her, but eventually she’s curled up in your lap making sad noises as you hold her
dating a dragon is certainly going to be different, but she’s the same girl, she’s just… scaley-er. you have no problem with scaley-er
can you do a noncon story with mothman that has some predator/prey going on?
Mothman's Prey (mothman x fem reader)
TW: NSFW, MDNI, non-con, predator/prey, stalking, kidnapping, oral, P in V, hair pulling, biting/marking, degradation, fear play, size difference, orgasms, fluids.
You are hiking alone at night when you are captured by a Mothman...
-------------------------------
The trail was dead. That was your first mistake—thinking you knew these woods.
Your second mistake was looking up.
The moon hung fat and luminous behind the treeline and shadows bled where they shouldn't. Branches snapped not from wind but from weight—something large shifting its mass from one limb to another, tracking you through the canopy without a single leaf rustling in sympathy.
You'd heard the stories. Everyone in your area knew them. But stories don't have six-foot wingspans that block out the stars when they stretch overhead. Stories don't have deep red eyes like blood.
You ran.
Your boots sank into mud, then hit gravel. The frantic pump of your blood echoed in your ears. The backpack slapped against your spine. A stitch clawed at your ribs. Behind you, above you—all around you—came that sound.
Not footsteps.
Clacking.
Like mandibles grinding together. Like plates flexing. A rhythmic clicking that reverberated off every tree trunk and wrapped around your skull until you couldn't tell which direction led back to your car.
"Please—" you gasped, not sure who you were begging.
The clicking stopped.
So did the wind. The insects.
And then he dropped from the sky.
Not fell. Dropped. Eight feet of dark fur and harder angles, huge wings folding into his back with a wet shff. His head cocked. The blood-red eyes narrowed.
"Hello, darling. My, my... you smell sweet," he said in a deep baritone. "Like honey mixed with fear... the fear makes it sharper."
You scrambled backward. "Stay away from me."
He stepped closer. One leg. Then the other. His feet were wrong; too many joints, too long, ending in claws that clicked against the exposed rock. "You came into my woods. You walked my trails after dark." His head tilted. "That's an invitation where I'm from."
"I didn't know—"
"You knew." The red eyes flared. "Everyone knows. And still you came. Still you ran... tempted me... invited the chase."
No. No! You'd just wanted to clear your head. Just wanted to see the stars away from the town's streetlights. Just wanted—
He advanced and you tried to bolt, but his hand caught your jacket collar and lifted. Your feet left the ground. The world spun. Then your back hit a tree trunk hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.
"Pretty little thing," he murmured, leaning in close. His scent was musky. "All trembly. All mine now."
You shoved at his chest. Your hands sank into soft fur, felt the hard muscle underneath, the impossible heat of him. He didn't budge.
"Let me go."
"No." His free hand came up, claws tracing your jawline with gentleness. "I caught you. That means I keep you."
"Keep me for what?"
He pressed closer. His body was all power and heat, that strange chitinous plating along his ribs grinding against your softer curves. You felt something hard nudge your thigh through his fur—not a limb, not a bone. Something that twitched and swelled as he breathed.
"Figure it out," he rasped.
Your stomach dropped. "No—"
"Yes." His mouth—not a human mouth, wider, fuller, with those clicking mandibles folded flush against his cheeks, brushed your ear. "Going to take you back to my nest. Going to spread you out on the soft moss where I sleep. And then I'm going to learn every sound you make."
The nest was a cave hidden behind a waterfall you never would have found on your own. He carried you there unbothered by your frantic wiggling and shouts. One arm was hooked under your knees, the other cradling your back. Water roared on both sides as he stepped through the curtain, and then—
Silence. Warmth. The smell of earth and flowers and him. His musk coated the back of your throat made tears gather in your eyes. He laid you down on something soft. Moss, like he'd said, thick and soft and surprisingly clean. The cave glowed faintly, candles casting everything in soft light.
"Don't," you whispered as he crouched over you.
His hands found the hem of your shirt. "Don't what? Don't touch you? Don't taste you?" The fabric ripped like paper under his claws. Your bra followed a heartbeat later. "Too late for don't."
Cool air hit your breasts. Your nipples peaked instantly, and you hated them for it, hated how your body responded to the exposure, to his gaze. He stared at your chest like he had never seen anything like it.
One claw-tipped finger traced your sternum "Soft here," he said. "Softer than I thought." The pad of his finger circled your areola. The texture was strange. Gritty.
You bit your lip to keep from making a sound.
He noticed.
"No," he rasped, teasing harder. "I want to hear."
His thumb rolled over your nipple. Once. Twice. The friction made you gasp, a shameful "ahhn" that echoed off the cave walls. He rumbled approval and did it again.
"That's it," he said. "That's the sound."
His other hand found your other breast, and he worked both at once—squeezing, kneading, pinching your nipples between thumb and forefinger until they ached and throbbed and you couldn't stop the little whines leaking from your throat. "Nnnh... nnnh... please..."
"Please what?" He leaned down, and his too-wide mouth closed over one nipple.
The sensation short-circuited your brain. His tongue wasn't like a human tongue. It was longer, narrower, with a rough texture and it wrapped around your nipple while he sucked. The mandibles at the corners of his mouth vibrated against your skin, sending shivers racing down your spine.
"Ahhhnn—fuck—"
He pulled off with a wet shllk. "That's what I intend to do."
Before you could respond, his hands were at your waistband. Your pants came off in strips. He didn't bother with buttons or zippers, just shredded the fabric. Your panties followed. And then you were naked underneath him, spread out on his moss, while he knelt between your legs and looked.
"Spread yourself," he said.
"What?"
"Your legs. Open them. Show me what I caught."
You shook your head, squeezing your thighs together. "I won't."
He laughed. Then his hands clamped onto your knees and pulled. Your legs opened wide. This time, air hit your pussy, and you felt yourself clench around nothing, felt the wetness you couldn't control.
"Wetter than I expected," he observed. One claw traced up your inner thigh, stopping just before it reached your folds. "Scared... but excited. Your body knows what it needs even if your head hasn't caught up."
"It's not—that's not—"
"Shhh." His thumb pressed against your clit. Just pressed. Just the flat of his thumb, gritty and warm, grinding against that bundle of nerves until your hips bucked without permission. "There. See?"
He pushed your legs back farther, opening you completely. His red eyes fixed on your pussy, your outer lips, flushed darker than your skin, on the way your inner lips peeked out slick and swollen.
"Pretty," he drawled "Going to remember how you look right now. Going to remember every fucking detail."
Moving too fast, he lowered his head between your legs. The first lick was long. You jerked, choked on a cry. He tasted you again. From the bottom of your pussy to the top, his rough tongue dragging through your folds. He gathered your wetness, an obscene shllk shllk shllk echoing.
"Taste better than honey," he growled against your flesh.
His mouth closed over your clit, and he sucked.
Your back arched off the moss. "Oh god—"
His tongue flicked—fast, precise, that rough texture catching your clit with every pass. Your hands fisted in the moss. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head. He held you open like it was nothing, like your struggles meant less than nothing, and he ate you like you were his last meal.
"Ahhnn... ahhnn... ahhnn..." The sounds punched out of you with every breath. You couldn't supress them. Couldn't stop the way your hips rolled against his face, chasing his mouth, hating yourself for wanting it.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
"Yes... grind on my face, darling," he groaned, the words vibrating through your clit. "Harder. Go ahead. Use me. You're already mine, might as well enjoy it."
"Fuck you—"
He bit down on your inner thigh, making you sob before his tongue soothed over the sting.
"That's not what I asked for," he said. "Try again."
Your eyes burned. "I don't—I can't—"
"Grind."
And you did. God help you, you did. You rolled your hips against his mouth, rubbing your clit across his tongue, his lower lip, his chin wet with you. Each drag sent sparks up your spine. Each circle of his tongue made your thighs shake harder.
"That's it," he growled against you. "That's my good little prey."
The orgasm built without permission. You felt it coiling low in your belly, felt your walls clenching around nothing, felt your breath coming in ragged "huh-huh-huh" gasps. You tried to push his head away. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the moss.
"You come when I say," he said.
"Please—unnnh...I can't—it's too much—"
"You can. And you will." His tongue flattened against your clit, relentless. "Come. NOW."
Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. You fell into oblivion, endless and helpless, while your core pulsed and your thighs clenched around his head and your mouth opened in a silent scream. He kept licking you through it, lapping up every drop of wetness your body released.
Shllk. Shllk. Shllk.
When you finally stopped trembling, he lifted his head. His chin glistened. His red eyes burned.
"Now," he said, crawling up your body until his weight pressed you into the moss, "I fuck you."
You felt his cock before you saw it.
He'd shifted his hips between your thighs, and something hard pressed against your pussy. Too bulky and too hot—not like a human cock. It was thicker at the base, tapered toward the tip, with ridges that caught against your folds as he rocked back and forth.
"What—"
"My kind don't fuck like yours." He gripped his shaft, dark gray, ridged all the way down, weeping something clear and slick from the pointed tip. "We claim."
He positioned himself at your entrance. The head of his cock nudged against your opening, spreading your wetness around, not pushing in yet. Just... waiting.
"Last chance to say no," he said.
"That doesn't make sense—you're not giving me a choice—"
"I'm giving you the chance." His red eyes locked onto yours. "Not the choice. Just the chance to say the word so I can ignore it."
"That's not—"
"Say no."
You opened your mouth.
He thrust inside you.
You whimpered.
He kissed you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he sank inside you. Inch by inch. The stretch was impossible. Those ridges caught at your entrance, dragged through your walls, made you feel him in ways human anatomy hadn't prepared you for. And because he devoured your mouth, a sound came out of you that wasn't quite a scream and wasn't quite a moan.
"Tight," he gritted out. "So fucking tight around me. Squeezing like you want to keep me."
You couldn't answer. Couldn't think. He kissed you, swallowed your moans and filled you so completely you felt him in your throat, in your ribs, in your heart. His hips pressed flush against yours, and the base of his cock—thicker there, almost flared—stretched your opening even wider.
"Aghnnn..."
"Breathe, darling," he whispered, his tongue licking your lower lip.
You sucked in air.
He pulled back. The ridges dragged in reverse, catching on every sensitive spot inside you, and you felt each one—ridge... ridge... ridge—until only the head remained. Then he pushed forward again. Slower this time. Again and again.
Shllk. Shllk. Shllk.
"Better," he murmured. "You're getting softer... wetter." His thumb found your clit again, pressing in time with his thrusts. "Your cunt likes me. Even if your mouth won't admit it."
"Fuck... you..."
"You already are." To prove his point, he snapped his hips harder, driving deeper, and the new angle made you see stars. "And you're going to come again. On my cock. While I fill you up."
"No—I can't—not again—"
"Oh, but you can." His mouth brushed your ear, those mandibles clicking softly against your temple. "You will. And you're going to thank me for it."
His pace increased.
Each thrust pushed the air from your lungs, made your breasts bounce. The motion seemed to mesmerize him because he focused his attention on them, nursing the hard nipples, marking them with little nibbles and sucks.
Soon, a second orgasm was building. This one started from somewhere deep inside you.
"There," he growled, feeling you tighten around him. "There it is. Give it to me."
You shook your head, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. "I can't—it's too much—too much—"
His hand closed around your throat. Not choking, just holding. Feeling your pulse hammer against his palm. "You can. You will. Come.For.Me."
The orgasm crested and kept cresting, making you rock like crazy. Your walls spasmed around his cock and your legs locked around his waist and your mouth fell open on a mewl that went on and on and on.
"Aahhhmmmnnn—"
"Fuck," he snarled, and you felt his cock pulse inside you.
Hot. So hot it almost burned. He pumped into you with short, jerky thrusts, his whole body going rigid, a sound tearing from his chest that was a raw and monstrous clicking roar. His cum filled you. You felt it spilling around his cock, dripping down onto the moss, wrong and right all at once.
And after he was done, he stayed inside you. His weight pressed you into the moss, and for one terrible second, you almost felt safe. Then he squelched out.
You whimpered, felt empty. You felt his seed leaking from you, a warm trickle down your perineum, and you clenched instinctively.
He knelt between your legs, watching. His cock was still half-hard, glistening with both of you, the ridges catching the dim candlelight.
"Again," he said.
You stared at him. "What?"
"Again." He gripped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach before you could argue. Your cheek pressed into the moss. Your ass rose in the air. He knelt behind you, and you felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance again—slick with his release, with yours.
"I'm not done with you yet," he said, and impaled you to the hilt.
You whimpered, grabbed fistfuls of the moss. This angle was different. Deeper. He hit something that made stars burst behind your eyes.
He moaned. "Good. That's good. Make those sounds for me, darling. Make all of them."
Claws digging into your hips, he held you in place as he fucked you. No gentleness now. No pauses. Just the relentless shllk shllk shllk of his ridged cock sliding in and out of your soaked cunt, his grunts and the occasional click-click-click of his mandibles opening and closing in pleasure.
"You're mine now," he said, each word punctuated by a thrust. "This cunt is mine. These sounds are mine. Every orgasm you have from now until I get bored—MINE."
You couldn't answer. Could only take it, only feel it, only exist in the space between his hips and the moss and the endless drag of those ridges inside you. You shattered again and he followed with a snarl, pumping more of that hot seed into your already-full womb. He pulled out and collapsed beside you, one heavy arm thrown over your back, pinning you to the moss.
"Sleep," he said. "We start again at dawn."
You didn't have the strength to argue.
The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was his red gaze, still watching, still hungry, still yours in all the worst and best ways.
"It's done. My prey has finally stopped running. She's where she belongs. With her predator."
A young girl discovers a strange creature trying to blend in with the life around the airport of her small island hometown. What she finds is something that follows her into adulthood, and possibly more.
Female Main Character x Male Monster
----------------------------------------------
A long time ago, in what almost feels like a different world, I grew up with my grandparents. My grandfather owned and operated a small airport on the island where we lived. The island of Blackforte was a tourist destination, and the airport had two planes going in and out at all times. My grandfather flew one of the planes, while an old war friend of his operated the other. It was my dream to be a pilot like my grandfather one day.
I was practically raised inside that airport, often at my grandmother’s feet as she sold tickets and checked bags. When I got bored I would play outside, as there was a small garden with seats where passengers could sit and wait if they liked. I used to like pulling weeds, and as I grew, I started sneaking plants into the garden. The forest was pretty close by and I would go there to snoop around, bringing back plants I found with me.
One time when I was doing just that, I was exceptionally bored. It was a particularly busy weekend for the airport and, as such, my grandmother insisted on me leaving the airport so she didn’t get overwhelmed. Because it was so busy, there were a ton of people at the airport, especially in the garden. This was irritating to little me as it felt like these people were overrunning my home. Rather than stay annoyed, I left. I went into the woods with my bucket and shovel, and decided to stay there for a while.
I went further into the forest than I had before. It seemed like the best thing to do, considering I couldn’t get close to the airport. As an adult, I realize how bad an idea this was, but back then it was like a whole new world. I searched around for interesting plants or cool patches of moss I could take back to the airport. As I was digging, I heard a noise near me. I should have been scared, but I was annoyed that something was ruining my ‘me time’. I kept working, intent on ignoring everything. The noise continued until finally, I had enough. I wandered towards the sound of it, ready to tell whatever it was off.
Something was caught in a net, and from the looks of it, I could tell it was a mermaid net. Whatever it was must have gotten caught down at the beach and dragged itself here. It was struggling to get free, only making the net tighten around itself. The string had cut into them, causing lots of bleeding in various places.
“Are you stupid?” I snapped.
The creature stopped moving.
“Stop moving!” I stomped towards it, taking the old army knife my grandfather didn’t know I took and extended it towards the net. The creature inside hissed and screamed, but I managed to cut the net enough that it started to free itself.
I huffed. “There, isn’t that better than before?”
The creature scurried out, going up the side of a tree and falling down because its hand was cut. It flopped around then got up and looked at me with these bright red eyes that started glowing.
I’ve always been a bit of an asshole, I won’t deny that. But as a kid, had I not been taken in by my grandparents, I could have gotten so much worse. Whatever untapped power I had, they put it to good use. But at that point, I was still a wild asshole and was known to swing in different ways. I hit the creature with my bucket.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I snapped at the creature.
They fell back and covered their head with their hands. They were pale in color, with black markings over their limbs. “Stop,” they whined.
“Oh, you can talk,” I lowered my weapon and waited.
“Stop,” they sniffled again.
I sighed and knelt down before them. They were quite small, and I wasn’t exactly sure what they were. “Are you scared? What happened?”
They looked at me with those big, red eyes. They had scales that flared out around their brows and under the eye socket. Their hands had webbing between the fingers and fins along the top of their head. Blood smeared across the pale of their body and I could even see the pink inside some of the cuts.
“I think I have some bandaids.” I started searching the pockets of my overalls. Each pocket always had a purpose.
The creature sniffled.
“Here.” I extended a fistful of bandaids to them. “These will help your cuts.”
The creature looked up at me, extending their weird little hand. They took the bandages and sniffed them.
“Put them on the cuts,” I instructed. “Ugh, here.” I knelt back down beside them, taking bandages to cover cuts I saw. They sat there, looking like a pudgy scaled cat. They must have been young, I thought. I felt bad for them.
“Are you alone?” I asked.
They simply blinked at me.
“My name is Beatrice, but no one better dare call me that!” I huffed. “Call me Bea or don’t call me at all!” I thought I was clever, I really did.
They stuck their tongue out.
I frowned as I looked at them. “So what are you? Do you wanna go back to the ocean? Is that where you came from?” The sound of a plane overhead made them look up, gazing through the trees. Their mouth opened and their tongue slipped back inside. Their eyes glowed again and they reached up to the sky.
“Can you fly?” I asked.
They made a small garbled noise that sounded almost like a plane engine.
“I’m gonna fly one day,” I told them. “My grandpa flies those planes up there. When I’m old enough, I’m going to become a pilot like him.” I smiled up into the sky.
The creature sighed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Humans can’t fly,” they said.
I grinned. “So you can talk?”
The pudgy, scaly cat thing frowned at me. “Humans can’t fly,” they repeated. They looked back up into the sky. “You should just stay on the ground.”
“Oh, really?” I huffed. “And what do you do?”
“I can do whatever I want.” They stood up and wobbled. “Unlike you.” They smiled smugly at me.
“So can I!” I huffed.
The creature smiled back at me. “Then fly?”
I gave them a super angry look. “Who do you think you are?”
They looked at me with wide eyes and suddenly a smile grew. They started to laugh, and soon I joined in with them. “My name is Atmais,” he told me. “But you don’t have to call me anything else.”
“Are you okay?” I offered my hand to help him up.
“I got stuck while swimming.” Atmais took my hand and he felt so warm, like laundry hung to dry. “I got scared.”
“That’s okay. People get scared all the time.” I walked beside him through the woods. “Do you want to help me find plants?”
Atmais looked at me with a sweet, timid look. I then picked up my bucket, which I felt bad to have hit him with. I then collected the plants that had toppled out and I showed him. I told him about the garden and how I was sneaking plants in to confuse my grandmother. He loved it and we walked through the woods together to find more.
After that, I spent all my time with him. During that summer, I found every excuse I could to go and play with him. It was lucky my grandparents were busy or just assumed I was up to my usual antics. I told Atmais all about the airport and the planes, all about my grandfather too.
“You really wanna fly?” Atmais asked. We were laid together on the beach, watching a plane take off from the airport.
“More than anything,” I beamed. “I wanna be up there like my grandpa! I wanna fly all over the world if I can. But I’d be happy just flying to this island too.”
Atmais scooted close to me. “Maybe when I’m big enough, we can fly together.”
He was so little, I really couldn’t imagine him being any bigger than me. “Okay!” I rolled over so I could see him better. “We’ll fly side by side.”
A small smile spread across his chubby face. “Where would we go?”
“Anywhere.” I reached out and pet the top of his head. “We can go anywhere at all.”
His red eyes glowed, even in the bright light of the sun, and he came in even closer, rubbing his head into my palm. “I would like that a lot!”
We got caught in the rain one afternoon and we huddled under a bus stop as it poured. There was a chill in the air, which signaled that summer was at an end. I was clutching my bucket to my chest, watching as the rain came down. My hair and clothes were plastered to my skin, and yet the summer warmth trapped into the bus stop kept me from shivering. I was smiling, but Atmais had a sorrowful look upon his face.
“It’s okay! Once it stops raining, we’ll be able to go.” I pet the top of his head. “Even if it’s still raining, we’ll both run and get home!”
Atmais had a pout on his face and a sad look I had never seen on him before. “I’ll have to go soon.”
“Well, we can run!” I laughed.
He shook his head and bowed his head down lower. “No. I mean I have to leave the island.”
My heart was a soda can being crushed under someone’s foot. I let go of my bucket and set it aside. “Why?” My voice came out so much smaller than I was used to. I was used to being so big, it sounded like someone else was speaking.
Atmais looked at me with those big red eyes. “Because my dad is coming. I have to go with him.”
“Will you come back?” I asked. Atmais was my first real friend since moving to Blackforte. After my parents had died, all I had were my grandparents. Atmais was the first person I had been able to reach out to and depend upon. I hadn’t felt so hurt, and it terrified me.
Atmais looked at me, those red eyes glancing over my expression for a moment. Then all he did was shrug at me.
A surge of anger rushed through my tiny body, replacing all the hurt that had been there before. “I don’t like that answer!”
“But I don’t know,” Atmais said simply. “You’re just a human, so I can’t really explain it. I just know I have to leave.”
That still wasn’t good enough for me. Anger was all that existed inside me and it felt like the only thing that could ever exist. “Just a human?” I spat at him. I stood up off the bus stop bench and started to leave.
“Bea! Wait!” Atmais chased after me as I left.
“No!” I shouted back at him. “I’m more than just a human!”
I could hear Atmais running after me, his legs were much shorter than mine so he had to scurry really hard to keep up pace. This only made me angrier and I wanted to run faster and harder from him.
I was getting soaked as I barreled through the rain. Back then I thought, if he was going to leave and never come back, then he might as well say goodbye then and there. I stopped when I came close to the airport and when I turned around, Atmais was gone. I looked around for him, thinking maybe he tripped or fell near the garden. I went back onto the beach where I left him, but the rain had washed away his tracks. I rushed back to the bus stop where we had been, and all that was there was my bucket with some plants in it.
What had I done? I ran back to the airport and cried on my grandmother while she sold tickets. All that anger swept away from sadness and fear again. I wanted to see my friend again, I wanted to apologize. But he was gone.
The next summer came and I waited the entire time to make my apology. I searched the woods to look for him, and I walked along the beach. I had no idea where he would come from if he returned. I did the same the following summer, and one last time the summer after that. But he never came.
Lots of summers have come and gone since then. I left Blackforte for a while, earning my pilot’s license as well as a degree to help me run the airport. But a summer came that took my grandfather from me. His plane crashed, and after that, I could no longer put myself into a plane, let alone in a cockpit like I always dreamed about. I took over the airport, running it as best I could.
Something strange had been happening recently. While running controls and working the tower, the pilots had begun noticing something in the air with them. We had begun jokingly calling it the ghost plane. But recently I even saw it. The plane looked very similar to the one my grandfather flew, and it stayed mostly in the clouds. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would have said it was just a trick of the eye. I had also talked to some of the merfolk down at the docks who had asked me if we had a seaplane. We didn’t. The merfolk all then murmured something about a plane often coming down onto the water and sucking up large quantities of fish in the motors!
I hated to think about it, but I seriously started wondering if there was a possibility of there being a ghost plane. If so, was it my grandpa? It would make sense he would haunt this place, especially the air around the airport. He always said that his favorite view was of the airport before landing.
One evening it was exceptionally dark and stormy. I had canceled a flight going out and was waiting on a plane to come in to close up for the night. I eventually got a call saying the plane was unable to take off and would arrive in the morning, so I was finishing up work when Captain Prentiss, one of the pilots, came in.
“There’s a plane landing! Why didn’t you make an announcement?” She looked pissed.
“No, there can’t be,” I shook my head. “They just called and-” We both looked at one another and rushed out of the tower. We ran out onto the landing strip, watching as the plane came down. It made no noise, no sign of an engine even though I could see it. It looked almost identical to my grandfather’s plane, except it had big red lights at the front.
“Should I get a gun?” The pilot asked.
“Just wait,” I whispered. “Wait.” As the plane landed, the whole place became still and quiet. We stood there, waiting. There would always be some movement, the door opening, something happening. But everything was so still, it didn’t feel right at all.
“Well?” Prentiss hissed at me again.
I stepped forward, going towards the plane. If it was a ghost plane, I wouldn’t be able to touch it. My fingers would go right through it and that would answer that. But when I touched it, it was solid. Not only that, it felt warm and a little scaly.
“Bea?” Prentiss shouted towards me.
I looked up at the plane, and saw the underbelly of it shift as if it were breathing. I moved backwards, taking very, very slow steps as I made my way back to Prentiss. “Get inside,” I told her urgently.
Prentiss came closer. “What?”
I whipped around and glared at her. “Get inside, now!”
Prentiss looked at me like I was crazy, but when the plane shifted and dipped lower, she took off like a bullet for the airport. I ran too, barely evading what looked like the front of the plane opening like a mouth. We ran inside for cover and when we looked out the window, the plane was still and normal looking.
“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” I panted. My heart was going a million miles a second it felt like. I pushed my wet hair back from my face and slowly breathed out. “Okay, good, I’m not losing it.”
“After this, you might,” Prentiss huffed. “What are we going to do? If it stays out there we won’t be able to fly any planes.”
“I’m trying to think.” I sat down with my back to the window. “Maybe we can use those gas bombs the TSA sent us?”
“Would those work?”
I shook my head and scowled at Prentiss. “I don’t know! It worked on that pigeon invasion two years ago.”
“Is that thing even close to a pigeon?” She turned back towards the window and her face went completely pale.
“Prentiss?” I turned around and saw the plane was right up upon the window fogging the glass with its breath. “Motherfucker,” I whispered as all the air was squeezed out of my body.
Prentiss ran, bolting from the spot and leaving me there. I couldn’t move, I just stared through that fogged glass at the propeller that was almost touching. I slowly stood from my seat and turned to face the window. The red light shone bright even through the fogged glass and, for a moment, I wondered if this was satan or one of their minions.
“Come out,” a deep voice bellowed.
I sucked up air and clenched my entire body.
A wing came forward and tapped upon the glass. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” they sang. “You keep running away from me, Beatrice.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be scared or pissed. No one dared to call me Beatrice. I furrowed my brow, wondering how this hell plane knew the right button to push. I moved, albeit heavily. I went back outside, opening the door and peering through a crack at the plane. The body had changed, looking more like an animal than a plane. The wings fell to the side, wrapping around the body and going smooth. The creature turned towards me, red eyes flashing brightly.
I lifted my arm up to block the light; squinting, I saw something of a face. “What are you?”
A small laugh rumbled along with the storm. The plane, or whatever it was, came closer to me and knelt down upon the ground. It then threw a bucket at me.
I was stunned, standing there with my face hurting while the little bucket plopped upon the ground and bounced at my feet before rolling back towards the plane thing. I looked up, staring through the air and rain as the red eyes dimmed. A smirk grew across the face, which was wide and blunt like the front of a plane. Black fins grew along the side of the head, almost resembling cat ears, and scales grew around the brow and under the eye socket.
“No,” I lowered my arms from a defensive pose. “It can’t-” I stepped out more into the rain. “Atmais?”
He lowered his head down. “Hello, Bea.”
My jaw dropped wide open.
Atmais’ smirk grew. “Long time no see.”
The rain began to stop, slowly thinning out until only droplets from the roof fell. The air became humid, especially from the residual heat of the tarmac. I hadn’t seen him since we were small, now he was huge and I was still somewhat small. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, it felt like a dream.
“You’re really here,” I whispered low. I reached out then recoiled my hand again. My head bobbed up and down as I tried to take in all of him. “You really did grow up big.”
Atmais tilted his head to the side, extending his neck then pulling it back in. “You haven’t.”
I pressed my lips into a tight line. “What are you doing here?”
Atmais’ eyes darted around for a brief second. “Mainly hunting, but I thought I’d pay an old friend a visit. But you were never in any of the planes, so I landed.”
I avoided his eyes.
“Did you never become a pilot?”
“Why don’t we go somewhere and get away from the airport?” I said urgently. “Before someone comes shooting and- well, before someone comes!” I walked him away from the airport, taking him down to the beach.
The sand was wet and thick all along the beach, and in the distance, thunder threatened to bring the storms back. Rain sometimes sprinkled, but it was a light mist at most. I wasn’t sure what to say, I was still running on adrenaline and fear from before.
“You know, you’ve been giving us a lot of problems since you started showing up.”
Atmais laughed. “Have I?”
I put my hands upon my hips and gave him a scolding look. “Yes! We’ve been calling you the ghost plane! We thought we were being haunted or something. But I guess it was just you. All that worry for nothing.”
I smiled up at him. “You really know how to make an entrance now.”
Atmais chuckled and swept his tail out across the beach, swiping several crabs back into the ocean. “Better than a pitiful exit.”
I recoiled as I remembered the way I had run away from him. “It really is.” I sighed heavily and took my hands off my hips. “In the rain too.”
Sitting down upon the beach, Atmais curled his tail around himself then folded his long arms out before him. I stood beside him, standing as tall as his shoulder. He had some of the same features as he did as a child, he still was pale with black markings, although his fins had grown bigger, scales had grown thicker and harder.
“So, hunting-” I murmured. “Is that why you’ve been stalking the island as a ghost for the summer?”
Atmais’ ears twitched and he looked down at me. “And to prepare a nest.”
“Oh,” I fidgeted in place. “So, you’ll be here for a while then.”
He turned his eyes towards the horizon and gazed out over the ocean. The red glow came to his eyes, illuminating the beach before him. “Until I find a mate at least. Then I will go wherever they go.”
“That’s nice.” I followed his gaze out along the ocean. “Got anyone in mind?”
Atmais shrugged.
“What’s your type?” I tried to say jokingly.
His eyes cut down at me.
“Just trying to help.” I looked back out over the ocean then clasped my hands behind my back. “It’s been a really long time.”
“It has,” Atmais murmured. “To be honest, I’m barely certain why I came back here at all. I just wound up here again as if I was called.”
“Maybe you missed it?”
“Maybe I just wanted to throw a bucket in your face.” Atmais recoiled his neck then looked down at me again.
I screwed my mouth up into a tight line as I bowed my head. “I kept waiting on you,” I murmured. “I searched the entire island for a few summers. Then I just waited until-” I met his eyes again and shook my head. “But you never came back.”
“Aww, you missed me?” he laughed with a mocking tone.
“Hey-” I barked at him.
Atmais lifted a hand and placed it on top of my head. His palm was so huge it easily could have closed his whole fist around it. I stood still under that palm, feeling him slightly pet then move his fingers down to the back of my neck.
“You were angry, I get it.” He fussed up my hair with all his petting. “I remember how lonely you were.”
I held my breath. “I wasn’t-” I tried to push at his hand with both of mine, but he was much stronger than when we were children.
“Maybe that’s why I came back,” he chuckled.
I furrowed my brow and scowled at him. “Don’t taunt.”
Thunder rumbled much closer to the shower. A wing grew from his back and extended over my head as the rain began to pour. “You should go home. Humans are so susceptible to the rain.” Atmais stood and kept his wing over me. He walked me home, which was the same place I had always lived. After my grandparents passed, I lived alone there.
“It’s quiet here,” Atmais shrunk down as he walked onto the porch. He took on a longer, more narrow shape, almost looking like a snake with legs.
“There’s no one here to make noise.” I told him.
Atmais came into the house with me, sitting near the table as I turned the lights on. He looked around, seeing the clutter that had gathered from me being so busy. “I had always wanted to come inside here,” he murmured. “Back when we were little. I was curious to know what it looked like inside.”
“I haven’t been able to clean.” I moved a stack of old mail off the table and into a bin. “I’ve been busy.”
“With what?”
I sat down across from him at the table. His long body had coiled around and his tail had wrapped itself around my chair. “Running the airport.”
Atmais’ eyes widened. “You run it now?”
I nodded and picked at the skin around my thumbnail. “After grandpa passed, it went to me, so.”
His ears went up then flattened back down against his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a while ago,” I muttered. “Nothing to be done now. But I run the airport, we’ve got three planes now rather than just two. Four if we include you.”
“Do you fly any of them?” Atmais asked.
I remained quiet. “Used to.”
His eyes glew bright. “Used to? What does that mean?”
This has been something I had been stewing on for so long. Ever since grandpa had passed, I hadn’t been able to get into a plane, much less pilot one. I got chills down my spine when I did and they festered in my stomach until I had to throw up. I knew it was fear driving this, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself at all, let alone somebody else. “It means that I used to. I don’t anymore. Running the airport is much more important and it’s my responsibility. So I made a call and I don’t fly anymore.”
Atmais narrowed his eyes and glared down at me. “That’s bullshit.”
“No, it’s not!” I tossed back at him. “I’m working, that airport relies on me!”
Atmais slammed his hand down upon the table, rattling it and shaking stacks of things from the surface which clattered and fell to the floor. “All you talked about was how you wanted to fly, how you wanted to be like your grandfather. I thought for sure if I ever saw you again it would be in the sky! And I find you here on the ground, weighed down by sorry excuses. You wanted to see the world, Bea. You wanted to stay in the clouds. What happened?”
I looked at all the things that had fallen on the floor then back up at Atmais. I felt so afraid to tell him. I was ashamed of it. “I can’t do everything! The airport was important to my grandparents. People count on that airport! If I don’t do my job, people won’t get where they need to go.”
“You can do that by flying,” Atmais scoffed.
“It’s more than flying!” I snapped.
Atmais reared back, he stared down at me with a strange look in his eyes. He sighed and turned away. “I came looking for my friend. I suppose I still will be.” He slipped out the door.
“Wait!” I chased after him. “Atmais, don’t go!”
He stopped on the porch and turned his head over his shoulder. “I’ll be in Blackforte for a while. You can find me where we used to play.”
Once he was off the porch he started changing, turning from one form to another until he was a plane. He took off, going up into the sky where I couldn’t follow him. He vanished into the clouds.
I hadn’t been in the woods since I was little. I guess I hadn’t been there since the last time I saw Atmais. It was strange going through the trees, looking for him again. Despite all this time, I found I was still able to follow the landmarks I did as a child. There was more overgrowth, but I could recognize the rocks and trees that had served as my guideposts. There was the spot where I used to find the best moss. Another where small pink flowers would grow. There was the tree that was always surrounded by acorn no matter the time of year.
Eventually, I came upon the spot where I had found Atmais all those years ago. Although, It was much more changed than anything else. Now there was something built there, a large cavern made of sticks and mud, covered with moss and other plants to form a burrow. Inside I saw two red eyes glowing as I approached, and Atmais came out.
“So, you remembered.”
“Like it was so hard.” I was huffing and puffing from the hike.
Atmais lowered himself down then placed his hand upon the top of my head. “I was wondering when you would come and visit.”
I felt so tiny under his palm. I pushed against it, but he wouldn’t be moved. “I had to work!”
“Oh, right,” Atmais chuckled. “Not flying.”
“I could if I wanted,” I huffed at him, smoothing my hair back down from him mussing it.
Atmais tilted his head to the side. “But you don’t want to?”
I swallowed and continued fixing my hair as an excuse not to look. “I simply can’t.”
Atmais sniffed then turned his head away, looking through the trees that pointed towards the ocean. His eyes became distant, and then a familiar twinkle came to them. His mouth opened wide with a gasp and he looked at me excitedly. “Then why not fly with me right now? There’s no stopping you, no sense in waiting. I could take you up into the sky this minute. What do you say?”
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
The twinkle disappeared, replaced by a darker haze that blotted his eyes. “You can’t? Yes, you can. I can fly. I’m right here. There’s nothing to stop you.”
“No! I’m telling you I can’t-” I stepped away from him as he started to come out of his burrow.
Atmais stood before me. “What happened to you? All you ever wanted was the sky. Now...it’s almost like you’re afraid of it.”
I hung my head down low. “I’m sorry. People grow up, they change-”
“I’m not dumb. I know what happens. Look at me! Am I the same chubby squat you knew? No. I grew. I changed. You promised me once that we would fly together.” Atmais’ voice was low and even. “I waited so long for that moment. I waited in the sky for days when I came back just to surprise you. And when you weren’t there, I was afraid that-” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Stop with all the excuses. Why won’t you fly?”
I sat down on a tree stump and placed my face into my hands. I took a deep breath as I tried to work through the shame to share with him. “Grandpa, when he died, he died in his plane. Something went wrong and-” I hated talking about it, even mentioning it. Even thinking about it brought up that swell of tears I couldn’t fight off.
“Okay, so you’re scared.” Atmais knelt down beside me and his tail coiled around the stump and my legs. “You could have just said that.”
“But I couldn’t!” I huffed, wiping my face. “I feel so worthless! This never would have stopped him. But any time I’m even in a plane, I get cold sweats and go all pale. I almost fainted the last time.”
Atmais laid his head on my lap. “When was the last time?”
I sniffled and patted his head. His scales felt the same as when he was little, but the sharp ones around his eyes were so much bigger. “Five years ago.”
“I never thought you’d be afraid of anything. I looked up to you for that,” he murmured.
“Me neither,” I grumbled under my breath.
Atmais lifted his head and came extremely close to me. Next thing I feel is his tongue gently tapping against my cheek and licked away the tears that have fallen. It was both gross and very sweet at the same time.
“You belong in the sky,” he said. “No matter what it takes, I’ll get you back up there.”
“Atmais, please don’t,” I huffed. “You must have so much more to worry about than that. It’s fine.”
He glared at me and I looked away. “You made me a promise a long time ago!” He snapped. “You promised to fly with me side by side.”
I wiped my cheek where he had licked. “I didn’t think such a thing would matter that much.”
“It does,” he said gently, which made me look back up at him. “I’m not sure why, but I was always excited to one day fly with you.”
I smiled softly at him. “I don’t know if it’s possible anymore. If I can’t even get into a plane.”
“You don’t have to get into a plane! You can fly with me.” Atmais patted his hands to his chest. “You can ride on my back.”
I shook my head. “What? Without any sort of safety measure?”
Atmais scoffed and came up close to me again. “You promised.”
I scowled. “Okay, so I promised.” I stood up and nearly tripped over his tail. I quickly recovered and stood straight before walking around him. “But I was a kid. Kids make promises.”
“And apparently you, as an adult, make excuses!” Atmais huffed. He coiled his tail around me, slipping towards my back and capturing my hand in his. My palm looked so small against his, but he felt so warm it was comforting. “I promise you, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I just don’t want you to waste your dream.”
I pushed against his hand. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
“Because you do, Bea.”
The softness and kindness of his voice made my heart tremble. I moved my hand in his, sliding it closer to his fingers. “After so long?”
Atmais pressed his head against mine and nuzzled. “You saved me when I was scared. Let me do the same, Bea.”
I sighed heavily. “Okay,” I agreed. “But if it becomes too much-” His hand closed tight around mine and he pulled me into a hug from behind. His whole body felt so big and strong, it was a nice surprise.
“Don’t worry! I’ll take care of you all the while! If you get too scared, I’ll be right there. Promise.” He swirled around me and placed himself before me. “Should we begin?”
Inside it felt like I was struck by an electric current. “Now?” I forced a laugh. “Here? We can’t fly in the woods.”
“No, let’s go out.” Atmais took my hand and grew another so he could walk. “We can go onto the beach and practice.” I was pulled along beside him as he lead me towards the beach. I eventually pulled my hand free and stood there.
“No, this is too sudden! I can’t-” I stopped myself when I finally heard it. “Oh,” I whispered to myself.
Atmais looked at me, confused.
“It seems awful fast though, doesn’t it?” I tried to laugh. “Wanting to go and fly so suddenly?”
“We don’t have to fly, just get you used to the idea of it.” Atmais took my hand again and continued leading me toward the sound of the ocean. “Besides, it’s been so long since we’ve been together. Isn’t that worth it?”
We stumbled out into the sunlight and I had to brace my arm before my eyes. The sun was warm, and due to the rain the past couple of days, the air was humid and sticky. My eyes grew accustomed to the light and I looked out over the beach as Atmais slid into the water.
“You’re swimming now?” I chased after him, stopping just before the water to take off my shoes.
Atmais turned into a viking boat where his head sat at the top of the bow. “Hop on!” His tail formed a ladder for me to climb up on.
“You do realize this feels a bit weird.”
“We’re not flying,” he huffed.
“No, I mean, getting inside…” I tried to think of a way to put it that didn’t sound so off putting. “Getting inside you.” I grimaced at the words.
“Technically, you’re not inside me, you’re on me. And don’t make that face, don’t actually make this weird,” he scoffed.
I clicked my tongue then climbed up the ladder. I stepped on board and looked around before I went closer to his head on the bow. “Why a boat?”
“Maybe if you trust me out on open waters, then we can work on letting me fly with you.” He started swimming, and I felt the force of it nearly knock me back. I braced against him then stood back tall.
“When you said you can do anything-” I murmured. “I didn’t really expect it.”
Atmais chuckled. “I can go anywhere and do whatever I please. It’s why I had to go with my dad before.” He turned his head back to look at me. “What do you think?”
He certainly did change the subject quickly. “I don’t know,” I walked over to the edge to look over. I was surprised by how far out we were already. “It’s nice out here.”
“See?” Atmais swam faster and I had to hold on tight to him to keep from falling over. “No matter where we go, I’m always here too.”
I looked back out at land as it faded onto the horizon. “Where are we going?”
“Wherever!”
He swam us around Blackforte, eventually taking us back to the beach we left upon. We did this a few more times, going out on the ocean, swimming. He barely talked about flying anymore, so I began to relax and not worry about it. In the back of my mind, I figured he had forgotten. I was having fun getting to know him again, that I didn’t even think about it myself.
There was an evening where we sat on the beach together, the sun was setting over the waters and the sky was blooming orange, pink, and purple. The way the clouds swirled in the sky made it look like watercolors, and I was enraptured by the beauty of it. Atmais laid his head in my lap and I had been petting him for a while.
“It will get cold soon,” he said.
“Oh,” I was barely back in my own head. “I suppose.”
Atmais lifted his head, though he nuzzled into my palm once more. He then looked into my eyes and smiled at him. “What is it?” I asked.
Atmais’ eyes darted around before he looked down and closed them. He took a breath and lifted his head again, pressing his forehead against mine. “I promise,” he whispered.
I placed my hands on either side of his face, holding him tenderly. “Promise what?” I asked.
“Whatever it takes.” He lifted his eyes as he moved back. I kept my hands upon him, stroking him gently as he looked so sweetly at me. “I promise.”
My heart throbbed as I looked at him, unsure what he meant, but I understood him entirely. “Why?” My voice cracked.
He pressed his head against my shoulder, purring softly as I put my arms around his neck and held him close. “It’ll get cold,” he said after a while. “I should take you home.” He used his tail to push my shoes closer to me.
“Okay,” I murmured. I looked at him one last time, seeing that gentle look in his eyes. I smiled at him, taking his hand once I had my shoes on. It really wasn’t that cold out, even by the time I got home, the air was still balmy.
“Would you like to come in?” I asked. “I know my place is a mess, but I could clean a space for you.”
Atmais looked shyly to the side but nodded. He came inside, going long and thin again in order to fit into my house. I moved things off the sofa and started filling the trash bag. Atmais draped himself over the sofa and, once I sat down, he placed his head right back into my lap. I fell asleep there, eventually becoming wrapped up by his tail. When I woke, I was hung up as if in a hammock, his head resting on my belly.
I rubbed my eyes, still trying to come to from the long sleep. I glanced around, seeing the kitchen clock straight ahead of me. I gasped and kicked up, knocking his head off and waking him.
“What is it?” He growled.
“I’m late for work! Put me down! I’m going to be late!” I nearly fell and Atmais set me down. I quickly ran about the house. I needed to get a shower, but there was no time. I changed in a rush and headed to the door like a bolt. “I’m sorry!” I turned around before I left. “You can stay as long as you want. You don’t have to rush out.” I then grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Bye!” I rushed out the door without even realizing what I had done. I was halfway to work when it dawned on me and I nearly drove off the road.
Once I closed the airport that evening, I went home to get a shower. I still smelled like the ocean from yesterday, on top of the body odor from that day. When I got there, I noticed Atmais sitting in the front lawn, looking out towards the ocean. He stood when I approached and I had to smile anxiously at him. He ran up to me, dipping down and nuzzling to my cheek.
I started to laugh with relief, placing small kisses as he nuzzled me. I then held his face between my hands and smiled at me. “You didn’t have to stay all day.”
“I wanted to see you.”
“I wanted to see you too.” I stroked my hands along his cheek and up to his ear. “So, I’m glad. I was planning on getting a shower then going back into the woods.”
Atmais circled around me, coiling his body tight around me then leading me back to the house. As he took me inside, I realized something was off. The kitchen was clean, as was most of the living room.
“Did you do this?” I looked around in awe, but he kept pulling me back.
“I was bored.” He placed me in front of the bathroom door. “Get a shower, then, I want to try and fly with you.”
My heart pulsed in my throat.
“Don’t say anything,” he said quickly. “We need to try, I think now you’ll be ready. We don’t have to go far, or even very high. We can just hover in the yard if that's all you want. But you need to try.”
“I don’t-” He shushed me before I could speak.
“You can do this. You have to.”
I nodded in silence and went into the shower. Thank goodness the bathroom window was tiny or I might have tried to escape through it. When I got out of the shower, I walked onto the porch to see Atmais over the ocean. He was flying around over the ocean going way way up then coming back down and skimming along the water. He came back, landing in the yard and approaching me. He held out his hand and I lost my breath for a second.
“Your grandfather wouldn’t want you to be afraid,” Atmais assured me. “You’ve got this.”
I sniffled and nodded. “I know you’re right.” I slipped my hand into his and looked up at him. “You can’t let me go. And if I tell you to stop-”
“I’ll stop,” he insisted. “Promise.”
I gripped his hand and he pulled me up into his arms. He then placed me on his back and I hugged tight to his neck. I hid my face there, waiting as he got ready. I felt him shift, moving slightly as his body left the ground. I held my breath, keeping my face buried against his neck. He stayed still, hovering there as he promised.
“You need to look,” he said softly.
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“You’re further off the ground on your porch. It’s okay.”
I slowly lifted up, keeping my eyes shut tight. I took several deep breaths before I even parted my lashes. I looked first at Atmais, then down at the ground below me. I felt the cold sweat, the clammy hands, but I kept myself so very still.
“Can I go any higher?” Atmais asked.
I swallowed. “Just a little.”
Atmais lifted up a bit more from the ground. I clutched tightly to his back, fighting back to the urge to cry and vomit.
“A little more?” He asked.
“Okay,” I breathed.
I could see the top of my house and further out along the beach. I watched the horizon for a moment and then I had to bow my head back down. “That’s enough!”
Atmais landed and helped me back onto my feet. “You did great.” He held me, coiling himself around me and stroking my hair. “You did so good, Bea. I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to do it,” I whispered.
“You took the first step, that’s more than most people get to do.” Atmais smiled. “You’ll get there eventually.” he then pressed his forehead to mine. “And I’ll be with you all the way.”
Each day after work, we tried a little more. We flew around some, just at the level above my roof. I kept my face buried in his neck most of the time, but bit by bit, I began to raise my head. We went a little higher then and went over the ocean. It was a slow journey, but eventually, I felt ready for something I had wanted all my life.
My grandpa and I had built a small plane together just before I went off to college. It had been sitting at the airport for a while, but now, I felt I was ready to fly her. Repairs had been made, and the people in the garage had looked her over. I sat with her on the tarmac with Prentiss in the tower to guide me, as well as Atmais, who was ready to fly with me.
“You ready?” Prentiss asked through the radio.
I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“You remember which buttons to press, right?” She teased.
“Prentiss,” I scolded as she laughed. I looked out my window, seeing Atmais sitting there, waiting. I nodded to him and he took off into the sky ahead of me. I started my engine and could feel the vibrations of it flowing through my limbs. I held tight onto the controls and slowly rolled out upon the strip.
“You’ve got this, boss,” Prentiss urged.
I was prepared, all my life I had been ready for this. I let go, and suddenly, I was in the air. I went up and up and up until there was nothing but clouds around me. I was breathing fast, a cold chill going down my spine. My hands felt slimy and cold inside the gloves. I then looked out my window and saw Atmais. He slowed, moving to my side. I smiled, tears running down my cheeks. I had done it! I had finally done it! After all these years, I was finally where I had always wanted to be.
I flew alongside Atmais for what felt like eternity. Soaring above the clouds, suspended upon the breeze. It was quiet up there, so peaceful and endless. My grandpa used to say he imagined that’s what heaven would be like. No end in sight. No walls. No boundaries. Just endless purity and bliss as far as the eye could see. Just a beautiful blue with no horizon, a place with no beginning and no end. I looked out towards Atmais, wondering what he was thinking. I wished I could have reached out and touched him, or even yelled thank you to him, but that would all have to wait for now.
When I landed, I was relieved and excited. My whole body was shaking and I could barely get out of the plane. Atmais plucked me out from inside and spun me around.
“You did it!” He cheered.
I put my arms fast around him. “Thank you,” I whispered. I buried my face against his scales, letting the tears slip down my cheeks again. “Thank you!” I sobbed gently. I squeezed him so tight. “I forgot how much I loved it...I forgot-” My voice clenched up into my throat.
Atmais lifted my head, smiling down upon me before he nuzzled to my cheek. He licked away my tears then set me back down upon the ground. “You worked so hard to get here. I’m so proud of you.”
I sniffled and caught my breath. “I never would have done it without you pushing me. I’m so grateful.”
Atmais leaned back down. “I love you, I would do anything to help you. I promised.”
I hugged him so tight it almost made my arms go numb. “I love you too,” I whispered to him. I took hold of his hand and kissed the interior of his palm. “Thank you. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Let’s go home.” He picked me up again. “We’ll discuss all that there,” he teased.
I started flying the passenger planes after that, sometimes with Atmais by my side. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed it until I was flying again. And once I was, I knew I was never going to give it up again.
There are nights when Atmais and I fly together. I ride on his back and we go over the ocean and towards the sunset. I hold onto him, kissing his neck as I whisper to him all my gratitude and joy.
“Why did you really come back?” I asked him one night.
“Because I always knew I would fly with you,” Atmais replied. “There was never a question of anyone else. All my life, since you threw a bucket at me, I knew I would never see someone the way I saw you.”
I laid on his back and smiled. It took me longer to realize, but as long as I had Atmais, I could fly.
I wanted to ask if you think any monsters had specific marriage traditions/cultural practices?
I was thinking about the Minotaurs from C.M. Nacosta’s, Morning Glory Milking Farm, and their nose rings that were basically wedding rings
Or like, what if x monster species had a tradition where they had to find their “kidnapped” bride in x time period to prove that they could protect them?
And a more naughtier scenario…breeding their bride in order to marry them?
Hi! That's such a good question! So, I do think every monster has their own special culture, and because of that, their own marriage traditions.
As you mention, I think minotaurs would have the ring in the nose, but I also think milking would play a big part of it for them. The minotaur gets the ring for you, but you have to prove to his clan that you can be a good partner, and that goes by making him cum (milking him) in front of everybody. For minotaurs, I think the breeding would be in private because they like to take his sweet time with their new wife/husband.
For werewolves, I think the chase is the key point. They have to chase their bride and fuck her in the middle of the forest, be one with nature and all that. Also mating bites, the symbolism behind the neck biting and the chasing and breeding would be their way to tie the knot (pun intended).
For orcs and ogres, and other monsters alike, I think it all would be about food and treasures. Providing for you, giving you all you need... And if that includes making you cum in the middle of the wedding reception so everyone can see how well he can take care of you... That's just an extra. The breeding could be either in the same reception or later that day, depending on the kind of scenario.
I could do more monsters but I don't want to make this super long Finally, I think dragons would play the kidnapping part beautifully. They have to "steal" you from your family and take you away so you basically become part of their hoard. Their new shiny human wife/husband that he would protect completely. He would give you all his precious treasures so you agree to mate with him, but this would take weeks. The dragon would make you wait because for them the most important is for have their significant other completely mad with need.
Now I want to make some kind of wedding night short, damn it.
Lover of Monsters @curiousmons - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
