#trans duck newton
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duck newton representation for middle aged trans men who are just some guy (he has a sword but shhh) <3
#message from mirph#taz amnesty#the adventure zone#duck newton#justin mcelroy#trans duck newton#trans man#trans hc
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The Kepler Horror (Indruck)
The winner of the "weird mer" poll was: A mer who isn’t so much half-human, half-fish as all eldritch. This fill is NSFW and contains oviposition.
Content Notes: given the prompt, there is mild reference to body horror. There is also a brief reference to nonconsensual artificial insemination (for lack of a better word).
Men in fancy carriages are a rare sight in this part of the state, so all the neighbors are sticking their heads out the window to see what on earth could have brought one to the Newton’s front door.
Duck’s father ushers the somber lawyer inside and his mother offers him something to drink, but he seems as uneasy with his visit as they do.
When they’re settled around the table, the man produces a paper, “This is the last will and testament of Alistair Cold.”
The four Newton’s trade a puzzled look. The Duck’s father snaps his fingers, “ah, yes, the fella my uncle Herbert worked for.”
“The very same. Mr. Cold passed away in the summer” he indicates where the paper is dated June 8th, 1872, “And was without any living family. This will stipulates his house, land, and all possessions and money go to his loyal servant, Charles. Except, Charles died the same night Mr. Cold did. Since Mr. Cold was insistent the state not come into possession, his will also lays out which servant to consider next. The two prior to your uncle flatly refused the offer and turned over their rights to it. And your uncle, as you no doubt know, passed in October. His own will named you his heir, which entailed only the bequeathment of a horse.”
“She’s a good horse.” His father replies.
“The point is, Mr. Newton, the estate on the coast is all yours.”
His father turns his attention to Duck, “seems to me it’s high time my son had a place to call his own. The money won’t hurt none neither.”
“Mr. Newton, you don’t have a-”
“I know what I said.”
Duck smiles to himself, and lets himself daydream about his future home.
—------------------------------------------------
Indrid swims up, up, up the dark shaft, out of habit and foolish hope more than anything else. The hatch at the top is sealed like it always is. Like the futures say it always will be.
He lets out a burbly sigh and sinks down, down, down once again.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------
Duck doesn’t believe in ghosts. But if there was ever a house to be haunted, it’s the one staring down at him now.
The view of the sea is nice. It’s the creaking frame, rattling windows, and yards of spiderwebs he could do without. All the rooms are full of dusty ghosts, chairs and tables and fancy shit he has no name for peeking out from their shrouds.
He bought new clothes in Richmond (his sister, Jane, came with him that far so he could buy her some too), mostly practical outfits for working on the house or in the–badly overgrown–garden. A few are for dinner parties or going out into the nearby town of Kepler, and maybe even for impressing a sweetheart. But before he can tuck them safely away in the wardrobes, he has to pull heaps of grim, unused clothing from the darkness.
As he explores the house, he takes mental note of just how many things he can get rid of. No one needs this much china or this many silver nick-knacks. Not even their previous owner, going from how new most of them look.
While in the library, he leans against the mantle of the unlit fireplace. When the stone beneath his elbow depresses, he momentarily panics that the whole damn place is about to come down around his ears. Instead, a panel opens in the floor of the eastern corner, revealing a sharply angled, stone staircase.
He debates whether it’s safest to ignore the weird, creepy staircase or follow it to make sure there’s not something weirder and creepier lurking under his house. He decides he’d rather not be murdered in his sleep by, grabs the pistol his dad insisted he bring, and takes his lantern into the depths beneath the mansion.
When he reaches the bottom, he gets a hunch as to what probably killed Alistair Cold.
He’s in a laboratory straight from the penny dreadfuls Jane is always reading. Jars of sickly, green liquid line the shelves and there’s a rack of surgical tools that makes him shudder when he sees how sharp they were kept. There are also several large books bound in brown leather containing nothing but an alien language and pictures so upsetting he instantly slams them closed.
“That’s enough of the creepy basement for today.” He says it aloud just to hear a familiar voice.
As he turns to leave, he steps on a pedal at the base of a cabinet. Grinding metal fills the air and he braces for something to blow up or fall over. When nothing happens, he decides that the pedal must be disconnected from whatever it once controlled, and heads back to the daylight.
—--------------------------------------------
Can it be?
Indrid tentatively presses first his tentacles and then his whole body against the hatch of the tunnel. It groans, then gives way, revealing the lab in a similar state to the last time he saw it. There’s no sign of the master of the house, and so Indrid keeps quiet; the previous instance when he tried to free himself and explore without permission, the human sunk a stake of hawthorn into his center. The damned thing was enchanted and twisted to conform to his shape no matter how many times he rearranged his body.
Tonight it’s safest to sit on the rim of the tunnel, drinking in the sounds of the surface. Tomorrow he’ll brave the laboratory. And the night after, the stairs.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------
Duck prides himself on being friendly and easy going. Which is why he’s trying not to take it too personally that no one in this tavern has looked at him since he mentioned where he was living. The shoulder he’s getting is colder than the freezing rain outside.
As he’s wondering if he’ll have to eat his dinner standing, a young woman with black hair and a massive, black rabbit in her lap waves him over to her table. She introduces herself as Aubrey, and they chat about how he’s liking Kepler. When yet another diner gives Duck a wide berth, she rolls her eyes.
“Ignore them. They’re all jumpy because you’re living in the Cold place. The guy who lived there before was a major dick. But that didn’t have anything to do with the house.”
“I feel like I’m gonna regret asking but: what actually happened to him?”
Aubrey slowly spins her spoon on the table, “He was doing experiments with magic; if there’s something beyond black magic, I’m pretty sure it was that. Nasty stuff, stuff that made people sick or disappear or…” she shudders “apparently he had a thing for kidnapping women who’d then give birth to kids they couldn’t remember wanting or conceiving. I only moved here two years ago, but I guess it’d been going on for a long, long time.”
“Jesus.”
“Right? I guess he eventually pissed off the wrong person or they figured out they outnumbered him, but a mob stormed the house, tied him to a tree, and burned him. And I get it but, like, it freaks me out that they’d just do that. Now I think everyone is treating your house like it’s this beacon of evil because weird stuff happens in Kepler all the time that they’re scared of.”
Duck’s mind wanders to the basement, “Weird stuff?”
“The fact that it rains all the time even though it doesn’t do the same one county up or down the coast, the freaky stuff people see while fishing, the ghostly shapes above the church every night, a higher than average number of witches, oh, and that guy, Stern,” she points to a tall, well dressed man who just walked in, “apparently he trained under a witch hunter? And then he got sent out here because there’s supposedly a giant, hairy monster in the woods that some people think is the devil but is probably a totally nice guy if I had to guess.”
The rabbit hops on the table and he pets its head, “And if a fella wanted to steer as clear of all that as possible?”
“Spend lots of time in your house? Like I said, as far as anyone knows, he was the only evil thing there. Or” Aubrey leans closer, “if you ever want to pal around with people who can help the weird feel less, um, threatening, come by Amnesty Lodge. It’s about a half-mile from your place, on the edge of the woods.”
Duck thanks her for the invitation and decides to avoid Amnesty Lodge as much as humanly possible.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------
Indrid is now certain Alistair Cold is no longer alive. As he trawls the laboratory, there’s no sign of him there or in any of the futures. This opens up so many possibilities his whole being shivers in excitement.
The only reason he does not rush upstairs is he’s hungry, and if there is anyone else in the house he does not wish to embarrass himself by eating their entire pantry. And so he slithers back depths in search of dinner and leaves his exploration for tomorrow.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------
There’s someone in the house.
From his bed, Duck can hear them moving on the lower level, the odd bump of furniture and strange chirp interrupting the steady sound of whoever it is moving closer. When it reaches the stairs, instead of steps there’s a horrible, repetitive squelching until the monster–because there’s no fucking way this is a person–is on the landing.
He knows for a fact he locked all the doors to the outside and, as a result, his bedroom door isn’t. If he moves, it might know he’s here and zero in on him. But if he gets to the door in time, he can keep whatever is stalking the halls at bay until he figures out what the fuck to do.
The bedroom door creaks the instant his feet hit the floor. It groans open, the surrounding darkness offering no clues as to what’s on the other side.
Tentacles come first, patting the walls and floor. Then there’s a horrible skitter as crab-like feet cross the threshold. The mass at the center of the body tips this way and that, and no matter how hard or long he stares he can’t make any sense of it. Milky eyes on what could be a neck give way to gaping gills lined with teeth but then they don’t and he’s looking at some new aspect of the horror.
When the monster turns, floor wet beneath it and attention fully on Duck, he does the least helpful thing possible.
He faints.
When he comes too, it’s with a nose of dark, sea-salty air. Something alien is resting on his face, and he braces himself to discover he’s already being digested.
The cool tissue on his face pats his cheek, which startles him into opening his eyes. He’s sitting on the floor, his back to the bed. There’s still a monster in front of him; its face is human, with silver-white hair falling around the angles of its cheeks and its glowing, red eyes. But the skin on its arms is mottled black and red, the texture too close to that of an eel for comfort, its hands are webbed and end in blood-red claws, and a frill of the same color sits behind its neck. Stranger still is the black fish-tail draped on the floor and the fact a patch of its chest is translucent, revealing an incomprehensible, teeming mass.
It’s a mermaid from hell. Compared to what was in the room before, it may as well be a kitten.
“Ah, you are awake!” The monster sits back and claps its hands, “I caught you before you could hit your head but I am never sure how long humans remain asleep when they faint and was beginning to worry.”
“You can talk.”
“Indeed. Oh, oh dear, where are my manners” he holds out a hand, “I am Indrid. You are Duck, yes?”
“How did you know that? And, and where did that other thing go?”
The monster cocks his head, “I am it. I can change shape to a degree, and I can see the future, which is how I know your name and that you are about to say you need a drink. I will fetch it.” Indrid tries to stand, frowns, and then his tail splits in two.
Duck looks away, stomach churning, until footsteps fade across the floor. He’d though Aubrey was exaggerating about what went on here but no, no it’s pouring rain outside and pinching his arm tells him he isn’t dreaming.
The monster rejoins him on the floor and offers a cup from the dresser. Not knowing what else to do, he takes it.
“You are afraid of me.”
“I, uh, I ain’t not-not, fuck, uh, I” he sighs, “yeah, okay, you got me, I’m afraid. Because a fucking sea monster turned up in my house!”
Indrid flinches at the noise, “I did not know you were residing here. I only know the hatch was open once more and I was so very excited to visit the surface once more” A thin membrane blinks across his eye, “goodness, I forgot how overwhelming it is to take in so much of the world through my eyes.” He looks sadly at Duck, but scoots a good six feet back across the floor, “I am sorry. I do not blame you. All humans fear the creatures of the depths. Except for Alistair.”
Duck sets the glass on the floor, “Can we go back to the part where you came through a hatch?”
“It is in the laboratory. If you wish I will show you. And yes, I am aware that showing you means you would then know how to bar me from the house. But that is your right; I do not wish to bother you.”
Against all his common sense, Duck stands and follows Indrid down the stairs, through the secret passage, and into the lab. They come to a circular, metal hatch on the floor, inscribed with the same, strange letters Duck saw in Cold’s notes. Indrid opens it, then slides in and rests his arms on the edge.
“Alistair made this to allow a creature from the depths to arrive at the surface in a matter of seconds. I was the one he was able to summon, and for a time he would let me marvel at the surface world while he asked me questions and wrote out formulas in his notebooks. Then one day, the hatch was locked and I could no longer visit. I did not miss him, but the surface world…I love it so, and I saw so little of it and when I found this unlocked I simply…I wanted…” he looks away and Duck discovers that same translucence on his chest races up his spine, “I am sorry. It was foolish of me to emerge. I will depart, and you need not see me again.”
Duck should let him go, seal the hatch, and then move to Australia. But Indrid’s honest, strange sorrow tugs at his heart, and he wonders what could make such a terrifying creature long for a life so different from what he knows. Wonders if Indrid, floating in the abyss, feels as out of place as Duck sometimes did on the street back home.
“I’ll make you a deal. You can come visit, but we gotta get a bell or something for you to ring so I know you’re here and don’t have a heart attack when I open a door and you’re behind it. We clear?”
Indrid grins with several rows of teeth, climbs from the pool, and grabs a length of rope dangling from the ceiling. When he tugs it, a bell sounds in the house above them.
Duck stares at the smiling monster, wondering what the fuck he’s agreed to, and says, “Yep, that’ll work.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The bell first rings two days later. Duck is at the dining table, rain battering the windows. It’s been so stormy the last few days that going into town carried a real risk of getting washed away or sucked into the mud, so he’s used his time to read up on wet-weather gardening and work on a model ship.
When the bell sounds, he wonders if Indrid will even come to see him, since his interest was in the house and not with Duck. But after only a few moments, footsteps announce the merman (Duck can’t think of what else to call him) by the fireplace. Indrid waves, awkward but earnest, and comes to join him, swaying in his steps like a new sailor at sea.
“Hello again.”
“Howdy. Uh, do you need anythin’ from me?”
“No. I do enjoy company, but there is no need to entertain me.”
Duck nods and goes back to his work. Indrid looks at the books, then stands and begins wandering the room, returning to the window every few minutes to stare out at the rainy road and the town in the distance. When Duck asks if he’d like some coffee, he says yes and then dumps half the sugar bowl into it when Duck brings him some.
“What do you do?” The merman sips his coffee.
“Fuck all at the moment. I went from helpin my folks with farm work to bein a fella with a mansion and a bunch of money. I’ll get bored of it eventually, but right now it’s nice to just kinda drift around.”
“Drifting can be rather relaxing.” Indrid pads over to the finished ship, claws clicking on china as he studies it, “will this then go in a bottle? I have seen those in books.”
“Nah, that’s a whole level of fuss I ain’t willin’ to go to.”
Indrid offers a hum of understanding, then touches a hand to the table. A deep blue ocean of mist spreads from his fingers, catching the underside of the boat. Then Duck can see the outlines of whales and squid beneath the waves, all matching the scale of his boat. The mist unfurls across the table, his boat sailing it until it lands safely in his hands. The ocean lingers, curling around him so he can watch the schools of fish and stray mermaids swimming within it. When it dissipates, he turns, awestruck and grinning, to Indrid.
“What was all that for?”
The merman shrugs, happily, “I wanted to see if I could make you smile.”
—--------------------------------------------------------
Since it’s a drizzle rather than a downpour, Duck is taking the afternoon to fetch supplies from town. As he’s un-tethering his horse, Winnie, from in front of the general store, his gaze falls on a heartbreaking sight; a child, no more than ten, sits on the corner, knees to her chest and her hand out. Her ears are shaped like coral and he spots a frill much like the one on Indrid. Most people who see her cross the street.
“It’s tragic, isn’t it?”
Duck turns to find Joseph Stern behind him.
“Where the hell are her folks?”
“Dead, I believe. The flu took them last year and the orphanage in Ashington won’t take her.” He steps beside Duck, “she’s not the only child in Kepler to suffer this way either. There are some with gills who cannot survive for more than a few hours away from water. Some with webbed hands, or teeth that mean their tongues struggle to speak in a way that others understand. A few are lucky and have family who protect them as they should. But many have been cast from place to place since they could walk. I believe Mrs. Cobb at the Lodge does what she can for them."
“The kids Aubrey talked about.” Duck murmurs.
Stern’s blue eyes are now fixed on him, “Exactly. No one quite knows what Alistair Cold did up in that house. The women he kidnapped could never recall what happened. A few even got up the courage to ask him for help when horrified families or husbands turned them and the children out. He threatened to drown them.”
“Jesus.”
“My feelings exactly. Kepler harbors strange things. Some say evil things. They think that it rots anything it touches” Stern glances in the direction of Duck’s house, “Regardless of what forces he called on, I think Alistair Cold was rotten well before he came here. There’s no reason to make others suffer because of that.”
“So you don’t think those, uh, forces are automatically bad?”
“Not at all. Things can be strange to us without that making them evil. In fact, I find such gaps in our understanding fascinating. You’ll let me know if you ever encounter anything unusual up there, won’t you?”
Duck chokes out a “yep” and then tugs Winnie away before Stern can ask any more questions.
—------------------------------------------------------------
It’s bliss to lay on the stone of the balcony while rain plinks on his skin. Indrid knows the constant storms are driving Duck up the wall, but he rather likes the damp, grey air. No birds are calling right now, but he can hear the shrieks of the McElroy children playing in the front garden. Duck had watched them as a favor to his nearest neighbors; their carriage had run off the road near Duck’s home and the wife had to accompany her husband to the doctor for a broken leg. When the children returned home hale and happy, the family was more willing to take Duck up on the offer to send them to play on his land whenever they wished.
Indrid stays inside on those days, as it would doubtless alarm the boys to see him, even in his current, somewhat human form.
That reminds him; he should show Duck that he’s almost able to make his hands look like they belong to a man.
Hours pass and the children depart before he finally rises and slips inside the warmth of the house. Duck is in the kitchen, frying fish in a pan while toast cooks on the rack. There’s a chocolate tart from the baker in town sitting on the counter and Indrid is very much looking forward to eating it.
It will soothe him after the conversation they’re about to have. It’s one he’s known was coming since Duck returned from town a few weeks ago looking rather grim.
As the human sets dinner on the table, he says, “‘Drid? What exactly did you and Mr. Cold do?”
“At first it was simply conversation. He had found a book containing the secrets and the language of the depths, and by summoning me hoped to achieve a greater understanding. I assumed our interests were alike in that we each wished to know more of a world that was otherwise inaccessible to our kind. For two years, I would guide him through spells and help him devise formulas to combine human science with my abilities. He was so pleased with our work together that he would say I was like the son he never had and he was glad to know me.”
Indrid picks up a fish and eats it because it’s something to do as the memories swarm him, “then one night he called me up and there was a woman in the laboratory with him. I was so excited, I wanted to meet more humans than him and his manservant. He knew this. But when I emerged it was in the form in which you first saw me and she screamed so loudly I panicked and dove back into the water. She was there the next night, too, but offering her this form did not calm her in the slightest. Nor did Alistair's insistence that I touch her.” He curls in on himself at the memory, “I refused and we argued and he shoved me back into the water and locked the hatch. A few nights later he tried again, this time with someone who was asleep when I emerged. He tried to tell me it was alright, that I could do as I wished. I wished to do nothing at all. I may live at the bottom of the ocean, but I was not born yesterday.”
Duck looks visibly relieved at this confession.
“After that night, it all changed. I was forbidden from leaving the pool, and Alistair would only summon me to scrape secretions from my tentacles or pull my teeth and I would let him because I hoped, foolishly, that we would see eye to eye once more and he would no longer be angry.” His claws scrape on the table, “I am glad he is dead.”
The human reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m so fuckin sorry, ‘Drid. You deserve better than that.”
His frill ripples as he looks at Duck, “Yes. Yes, I believe I do.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------
He knows humans get ill. Indeed, one of Alistair's lies to him was that their research would help cure human ailments. But knowing they get sick and seeing his human laid up in bed are two painfully different things.
Duck insists it’s just a mild flu, but Indrid insists on him resting as much as possible so it does not get worse. This does leave him to tend the house and make food for them both himself, but so far he’s managing.
Today he is making chicken soup, and has followed all directions except for how to dismember the chicken; the knife seemed unnecessary given his claws. It’s been simmering on the stove while he goes and makes sure Winnie’s stable and hay are still covered after last night's wind (and to feed her the sugar cube he always sneaks her).
He has to slip back inside through the kitchen door, as the neighbor’s children are at the front one they’ve gone, he retrieves the basket they left on the steps. He can still hear them laughing and shouting down the road when he takes Duck’s tray up to him.
“Sustenance!”
Duck smiles groggily at him, “Thanks, ‘Drid. Was someone at the door?”
“Clint’s boys. They left us this along with a note saying they hope you feel well soon.” He holds up a jar of honey.
“That was nice. Kids’re nice.”
“Indeed.” Indrid sits in the wooden chair by the bed, “do you want children?”
“Yeah. And no? Don’t wanna have ‘em. People’d see me wrong. But a family could be nice.” Feverish, green eyes turn on him, “you?”
“From what you have told me I may already have some that I was not privy to the creation of.” He sneakily summons a cool tentacle to wipe sweat from Ducks’ brow, “beyond that…I do not know. My kind are few, and the last time I ran into a deep one who looked like me he tried to eat me.”
“Cause you're so sweet.”
“I suspect I taste like fish.” Indrid pours him a new glass of water before realizing the true meaning of what Duck said. He decides to leave it be, not wanting to read too much into what the human says while feverish, and adds, “now, eat up so you can be well and take me for a walk on the beach as you promised.”
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Duck’s definitely over his flu, but he took today easy due to still feeling a bit wobbly on his feet. Indrid left him a note saying he’d be spending most of the day in the sea. Duck’s glad; the merman spends as much, if not more, time at the surface with Duck than he does in the depths, and Duck has a nagging fear that one day he’ll spend too long on land and get sick.
He turns in early, reading under the covers while the wind howls. When the tell-tale ding echoes from below him, he calls out to let Indrid know where he is.
“You have a nice day?” Duck asks as the merman enters the room.
“Mmm”
Duck looks up at the whimpered answer. The first surprise is that the translucent patches on Indrid’s chest have turned into shining, pulsing scales. The second is that Indrid doesn’t sit once he reaches the bed. Instead he pulls the covers aside and wiggles under, pressing his front to Duck’s left side.
“‘Drid? You ok-”
“No. No I am not. Being away from you all day has been agony. Every fiber of me ached until this moment.” He nuzzles closer, clicking and trilling, “and I do not know why my form changed without my permission. Perhaps it was caring for you these last few days but I, I” his claws fist into Duck’s shirt, “I cannot think of anything but claiming you.”
Duck’s not sure which is stranger; that Indrid seems so distressed at the idea, or that Duck can’t imagine not opening his legs for him right now.
He rolls onto his side, draws a finger along the new scales and gets a trill in reply, “Darlin’, is that your way of sayin you wanna fuck me?”
Indrid’s frill fans out, “It does not need to be that! Just holding you is enough for, for now.”
The red and black on his skin is swirling like storm clouds, and Duck smooths his palm along a patch, “And what happens when it ain’t?”
Indrid chirp-burbles something in his native tongue.
“Didn’t quite catch that.” He hazards a grope to Indrid’s thigh.
“Then I hold you down and do things to you humans do not want!” Indrid covers his face with his hands, “Worse still is that I want them, I want you but I know such acts with me are repulsive.”
Duck takes both hands, easing them away from Indrid’s face and kissing the webbing between the fingers, “Not to me they ain’t. Not when it’s with you, the fella who’s fuckin captivatin’ to look at and makes me laugh and still gets so damn excited when he sees the rabbits playin’ in the grass.”
“You would truly let me mate with you?”
“Long as it don’t produce anything, then yeah.”
Indrid shakes his head and nudges Duck onto his back, “I have looked at every conceivable future and in none of them do we create offspring. Indeed, I suspect what Alistair hit upon might be the only way I could have children with a human. All of which is to say: please take off your clothes.”
Duck laughs at the formality but obeys. The instant he’s naked in the lamplight, more parts of Indrid’s body than make sense begin rippling and twitching.
“Such a handsome human. Let us see what I have in store for you.” He leans down, bracketing Duck with his arms, and kisses him soundly. With his eyes closed, it’s as if Duck is feeling se spray on his lips, and when he wraps his arms around the merman and toys with his frill, the kiss deepens. It’s only when he feels something hard pressing into each thigh that he breaks it to look down.
Indrid now has a second set of arms, more shelled than scaled, and is using them to force his thighs farther apart.
“Do you like them? I feel they will be necessary to keep my mate from running off. And to make certain he takes all I have to offer.”
Duck moans at the menace in his voice, “And what do you have to offer, darlin?”
Indrid dips his head in reply and Duck looks lower to see the skin and scales of his groin rippling. Then reality jolts for a moment and something singularly unusual is extending towards him. Indrid’s cock is thick and flexible, with a ribbed line running down the lower third of it.
“Holy fuck.”
“Is it still alright?”
Were it attached to anyone else, he’d say no. But right now his body is sending all his blood south at the thought of Indrid being so far inside him.
“Hell yeah it is.”
The scales on Indrid’s chest pulse, “Wonderful. Because I am out of patience.”
Duck yelps as Indrid lunges forward, kissing him and sinking his cock into him at the same time. The shaft barely fits, and every time Indrid snaps his his there’s a thud as it bottoms out.
“Ohhhhhh you are delightful.” Indrid trills as he forces Duck’s hips wider, the sound turning muffled as the merman kisses a hungry line down his neck to his chest. For a moment Duck fears the attention to his chest will prove too much, but Indrid contents himself with a possessive bite to each side before gliding his mouth back up to suck bruises into his collarbone.
“Fuck, ‘Drid, this is fuckin amazing, you feel so goddamn good uh, what, what’s that.” He squirms as something presses between his asscheeks.
“It seems my form adapts to fill as many holes as are present.”
“I ain’t ever had somethin-AH, oh, ohfuck” he bucks his hips as the second dick works it’s way in. There’s a strange pressure and heat to it, but it’s narrow and soft enough that he gets a shudder of pleasure instead of pain.
“That’s it, dearest, there is no need to fuss. I know how to take care of you. My heart, my soul, my very form will do whatever is needed to win and keep you.” Indrid grins down at him, licking his lips, “you were made to be laid in.”
Duck whimpers at the implication and tries to spread his legs wider.
“Does that excite you sweet one? That my kind need somewhere warm and willing in order to lay a clutch?”
“Didn’t, didn’t even occur to me that’d happen. I, will, it won’t hurt right?”
A loving nibble to his throat, “Not at all. In fact I foresee you very much enjoying it. Which is excellent timing.”
Duck gasps as something soft yet solid emerges from the tip of Indrid’s cock. A moment later it’s inside him, rubbing against him as Indrid fucks him with increased vigor.
“Yes, yesyes, that’s a good mate, there’s plenty more where that came from and you will take them all.” Both cocks pulse once, but only the one in the front produces another egg, “nnnf, this, this is selling me on the idea of a large family with you. Lots of space, plenty of money, we have all we need to care for several broods.”
“Ohgod, ohfuck, Indrid” the fantasy heats his blood as another egg pushes in.
“I’d take care of everything, look after them and the house if you decided to work. Mmm” he gropes Duck’s ass as the cock there fucks him deeper, “I do love the idea of you going into town bearing the proof of our evenings together. Everyone would see I’d claimed you. I would be the envy of the town once they knew you spread your legs whenever I wanted to breed you.”
“Fuuuck” He closes his eyes, losing himself in the image of Indrid on his arm in town, preening whenever someone notices the bites on his throat. The cock between his legs ripples, and now he’s full enough that it can’t fit all the way in when Indrid thrusts. The ridges and bumps of it catch his own cock, dragging him towards orgasm.
“Oh” Indrid’s sigh bubbles out of him, “look at you. So handsome, such a lovely husband to take me until you’re stuffed full.”
He cums at that, tightening around Indrid and digging his heels into the blankets. The merman is on him before he’s finished moaning, rolling them on their sides and releasing his thighs in favor of grabbing his ass and hips and forcing him closer.
“I am not done with you, sweet one, so hold on tightly until I am through.”
Duck cries out as two more eggs pulse into him, Indrid only fucking him rougher as they do. The mer is everywhere, fucking him deep and splitting him open and sinking his teeth into his neck until there’s a trilling, watery cry and he cums so hard inside Duck that the force and the volume of the cum pushes his cock free.
The other cock retreats as they pant in each others arms, Indrid’s frill rising and falling in time with his breath.
Duck raises his face form where he’s hidden it in Indrid’s neck, “You mean it when you called me your husband?”
“I did. If you would have me.”
He kisses his jaw, “You know I will. And not just because you fucked me so well I saw god.”
—-----------------------------------------
Spring in Kepler is still rainy, but the cluster of children waiting on the steps of what is now called Beacon House are all safely tucked beneath umbrellas. For those whose families did not abandon them, they will only be staying at the school until the afternoon before returning home (Aubrey will be teaching some classes and also driving the cart back to town). For those with nowhere else to go, they will be moving into the house for the foreseeable future.
The group–eight in total–scurries across the threshold when Aubrey ushers them in. Mr. Newton waits for them at the foot of the stairs, smiling and genial in his brown suit.
“We all here? Good. Mornin’ y’all. We're gonna get you settled into your rooms real soon. Uh, if you’re stayin here that is. If you ain’t, Aubrey will take you into the library so you can keep warm and read while the others put their things away. But before that, I want you to meet your other teacher”
He gestures to the man coming down the stairs. A red scarf covers his neck, and all but his face and hands are covered by his black suit.
“Mr. Cold here is gonna teach you some things Aubrey and I can’t. And make you feel right at home too.”
Still on the steps, Mr. Cold looks down at the children and smiles, ruby- tinted glasses slipping just enough to reveal glowing, red eyes.
#indruck#mermay#indrid cold/duck newton#trans duck newton#terato#monster boyfriend#human/monster romance#merman boyfriend#eldritch boyfriend#duck x indrid
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one thing I love about TAZ Amnesty is the power of names within the story. From the importance of the full title Dr. Harris Bonkers PHD, to naming Billy and thus befriending and trusting him, to Duck having a (pretty trans-coded) name reveal, to Ned's middle name gag becoming a heart wrenching confession to Aubrey. Names have power!!
#taz amnesty#the adventure zone amnesty#the adventure zone#trans duck newton#duck newton#ned chicane
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duck newton is seventeen in oversized flannel and scuffed-up doc martens and a name that doesn’t quite fit right.
#that's right fuckers im back#my fic#mine#taz#taz:a#taz amnesty#the adventure zone amnesty#the adventure zone#duck newton#trans duck newton#juno divine#character study#taz fic#taz amnesty fic#amnesty fic#click for trans 90s grunge icon duck newton#nbshrubberry
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ranger newton are you aware of your transhet swag
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DUC K NEWTON IS A TRANS MAN AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE
#MY NAME IS DUCK IT'S A NICKNAME#I KNOW YOU'RE NOT ONE OF MY MOMS FRIENDS BECAUSE SHE HATES MY NICKNAME#TRANSMAN#TAZ#the adventure zone#duck newton#trans character#transop#justin has the best characters
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duck newton is transgender he's so trans to me
big buff chosen one of prophecy type guy
just some dude type guy
but he's a trans bear, are you listening
like he'd been going by duck for a long time during his like high school burnout days and then after finally being accepted he asked his mom what he should put down on his legal name change and she said Wayne and he did and just kept being called duck
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3
Propaganda
Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):
Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako
Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans
LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.
Chine (Friends at the Table: Sangfielle):
”Look at how they grow ‘em here in Blackwick. God damn.”
taz fandom i'm begging to you please listen to fatt: sangfielle and experience chine please duck is an extended bit about wayne newton and he doesn't even try to blow up a carnival to upset mother nature and force a random town to forever be attendants to the aforementioned eternal carnival please oh please...
If Chine eating a mattress has a million fans, I am one, etc. etc.
just LOOK AT HIM
and he can turn into a shrew monster
this guy has great tits, this guy is a monster, this guy is nonbinary and all the bugs love them!! he's a dad, a writer, a macrame artist?? they're a goofball, they're deadly serious, they're shockingly competent! he's a vessel of the chaos of nature itself!! he's an animal control guy that sides with the animals, he's the living embodiment of adhd with a side of depression, and weirdly suspicious of the color yellow?? they swing a rusty poll-ax, they know how to read music and are completely comfortable singing with their co-workers..... which is to say:
vote for chinel <3
Vote for chine hes a wereshrew and morally ambiguous and easily lusted for
CHINE IS A BIG HAIRY EXOTERRORIST WOODSY FAILDAD WERESHREW DOG-GUY DOG-BOY... THEY ATE A WHOLE MATTRESS TO ESCAPE PRISON AND HE ATE A LIGHTBULB TO TOUCH THE GENIUS OF CREATION... AND HE'S REALLY GAY. THEY/HE LEGEND (AS IN ACTUAL LEGEND, PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF THEM)
GO MY PSIONIC WARRIORS!!!!!!!!
as a wise person said in the tags last time: don't you want to fuck the unknown??? the hairy and wild unknown??
LOOK AT HOW THEY GROW EM IN BLACKWICK YALL a vote for Chine is a vote for trans wrongs
Chine is a rampaging landfill detonation of a person(?). Next question.
Art of Chine made by @wereshrew-admirer.
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Friends vs Friends Review
Friends vs Friends is a PvP first person shooter mixed with a deck-builder. You fight against one or two other players, depending on the mode you picked, using cards to gain an advantage. This game is my first review on the blog, so this might be messy and not as well written as some of the later reviews I will release down the line.
The game has two modes, 1v1 and 2v2. The game is very fast paced and skill based (hey, that rhymes!), but still manages to be somewhat casual friendly with the cards. There are a lot of characters to choose from, all with their own passive abilities. I personally like Duck Anderson, the stoner duck whose passive ability gives him weed in his hand every round that heals him. You can see the friends scattered around the hub doing their thing, where you can approach and switch with them, or you can switch to whoever you want in the bathroom. The hub has 2-3 main locations depending on your gender. The hub’s main area is a shopping square that houses a “PalPrize Machine”, which takes what I’ll call “Pig Coins”, and it dispenses card backs, keychains, and friend avatars. The Diner is a place where you can pick up quests (once you hit level 8) and build decks/open booster packs. It has a nice little ambient jukebox where you can change the background music, and the walls are full of different souvenirs, some mildly graffitied. The bathroom of the Diner allows you to change characters, as I brought up before, and houses the entrance to the shop, Cash’s Corner. There you can practice your aim with the shooting range or buy booster packs to add new cards to your deck, or duplicates which you can use to level up your current cards. In matches, you’ll get 5 seconds to scroll through your cards and pick one you want to use once the match starts. Then from there on out it's just you and your opponent having a shooting match to see who the best player is. After you use the cards in one round, they won't be available for the next round, so it’s recommended to not use too many cards all at once. There are around 4 or so maps in the game, with more sure to be added later.
Now, I implore you not to click off this article until the end, because I’m bringing up my criticisms first. I like to get the cons out of the way so we can end the article on a positive note. Some issues I do have is that the game doesn’t run flawlessly. I personally had to turn down some settings, and a big one was having to turn off bloom, and there were still some frame drops in matches, however it didn’t happen too often, and I occasionally rubber banded during a match. I feel like the frame drops differ from map to map, with the biggest culprits being the Trucks map and the Subway. A problem I do have is with booster packs being luck-based, it could be hard to get a card you really want or a new card, especially with the fact there ARE dupes. As well with the pig coins, it's a pain in the ass since you have to finish 3 daily quests to get one.
Now onto the much, much longer list of things I like. First of all, the art style. The art style is a mix of pixel art with 3D models, and it looks great, though of course it depends on your preferences. Just the intro alone is so charming. The card art is also great, able to convey what card it is with just a look at the art, along with it just looking good in general. While the game does feature cartoonish blood and bones, there’s an option to turn it off, making it even more accessible to people who may be more squeamish. The hub oozes with charm and personality, with the calming guitar playing in the lobby it really gives you the idea that the friends made a lot of memories here and it feels lived in. It's great, it makes my soul happy. There’s also a lot of LGBT rep, with there being the progress flag and the trans flag available as keychains from the get-go, and DJ Newton's original design even had a trans rights shirt. The cards feel fun and creative and combine quite well with each other. The music sounds great and the voice acting is amazing for all of the characters, being very charming and filled with personality. The matchmaking is also level-based, so you wont be matched against someone who has better cards or a better character, and you can still turn it off if you like. The best part of all of this? The game is 10 dollars. It honestly feels like a robbery that they’re selling it that cheap and with the sale I got it even cheaper for 6. If you want to support the developers even more though, they have a deluxe edition which pays forward to get access to the first two premium expansions they’ll be releasing later this year. All the premium content is purely cosmetic, however, and it's decently priced, at least compared to most other games, with the DLC costing around 8 dollars, which is around 4 dollars for both expansions. Even then, you can still unlock a multitude of cosmetics just from playing. With how low the price is and how much accessibility they put into it, if this game piques your interest in any form I urge you to pick it up. It’s a great time, and you’ll definitely enjoy it. If I had to give it a score out of 10, it’s definitely a solid 8/10. Might not be for everyone, but if you like shooters you’ll love this.
-Logan Laws
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💞Miles' F/O List💞
Here's a list of my F/Os, including the pronouns and emoji tags I use for them!! I'm perfectly fine sharing!!
Main Romantic
💣 Pinstirpe Potoroo - Crash Bandicoot (any pronouns)
♠️ Jackson "Blackjack" Chamberlain - Steel Vengeance at Cedar Point (he/him)
🧇 Kevin - Saints Row (2022) (any pronouns)
🪩 Disco Kid - Punch Out!! (he/him)
🎹 Kaori Sakuramori - Idolm@ster Million Live (she/her)
Secondary Romantic
🐈 Matt Engarde - Ace Attorney (he/him)
🐀 Jamison "Junkrat" Fawkes - Overwatch (he/him)
💪 Brigitte Lindholm - Overwatch - (she/he)
😈 Arataki Itto - Genshin Impact (he/him)
👁️👁️ Wally Darling - Welcome Home (he/they/it/neos)
😼 Rocky Rickaby - Lackadaisy (he/neos)
🧪 Jiro Yamashita - Idolm@ster SideM (he/him)
⭐ Rosalina - Super Mario (she/they/it)
📽 Zen/Hyun Ryu - Mystic Messenger (he/she)
It's Complicated
🍸 Wallace Wells - Scott Pilgrim (he/him)
Polyships
🐕 Goro Majima (he/she) and Kazuma Kiryu (he/they) 🐲 - Yakuza
🤠 Cole Cassidy - Overwatch (he/him) and 🐉 Genji Shimada - Overwatch (he/him)
👨👧 Ryotaro Dojima - Persona 4 (he/him) and 🥬 Tohru Adachi - Persona 4 (he/they)
🛹 Lucas Lee - Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (he/him) and 👓 Gideon Graves - Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (any)
🩸 Astarion Ancunin (any pronouns) and 🍃🐈⬛ Jaheria (she/it)+🧸🔥 Karlach Cliffgate - Baldur's Gate 3 (any pronouns) (Jaheria and Karlach are also dating each other!)
Familial
👻 Buffy Engarde - Ace Attorney OC (sister) (she/her)
🏠 Nanako Dojima - Persona 4 (daughter) (she/her)
🌱 Arabella - Baldur's Gate 3 (daughter) (she/her)
🍳 Yenna - Baldur's Gate 3 (kid) (they/them)
Platonic
👾 Hana "D.Va" Song - Overwatch (she/her) (also my metamour w Brigitte!!)
📱 Rio Momose - Idolm@stwr Million Live (she/her)
🦝 Roary Racoon - Crash Bandicoot OC (they/them)
⚔️ Wyll Ravengard - Baldur's Gate 3 (he/him)
🌑 Shadowheart - Baldur's Gate 3 (she/they)
🐹 Minsc (and Boo!) - Baldur's Gate 3 (any)
Pretty much all of Team Cortex
Frenemy
🥃 Tawna Bandicoot - Crash Bandicoot (she/he/they)
♠️ (sorry)
🎭 Raphael - Baldur's Gate 3 (he/him - should note this is mostly for an au ver of my tav nejdj)
Kin F/Os
I'll add to these as shifts come up!!
Kin: Gerard Lacroix-Overwatch
😡 Jack Morrison/Soldier:76 (romantic)(he/him)
💀 Gabriel Reyes/Reaper (romantic)(he/they)
🦁 Reinhardt Wilhelm (romantic)(he/him)
🕷️ Widowmaker/Widow-Trans masc (romantic) (He/they) (NOTE: please do NOT refer to Widow as Amelie when referring to them in a romantic sense thank you!!!) / (However Amelie (she/they) IS a platonic f/o and so! her emoji is 🩰)
🪷 Niran "Bua" Pruksamanee/Lifeweaver (Crush/possible romantic)(he/they/she)
💤 Ana Amari (platonic)(she/they)
🔘 Siebren de Kuiper/Sigma (platonic)(he/it)
📵 Olivia Colomar/Sombra (platonic)(any)
(also. Basically every guy is a crush lol. I was a Gay Mess)
Kin: Agent Stone-Sonic the Hedgehog (Movie)
🥚 Dr. Robotnik (romantic)(he/they/it)
🖤 Shadow the Hedgehog (kid)(he/they)
❤️🩹 Sage (kid)(she/they/it)
Kin: Indrid Cold (The Adventure Zone: Amnesty)
♥️v♥️ Duck Newton (Romantic)(he/him)
🐇🔥 Aubrey Little (Platonic)(she/they/it)
Yoosung Kim (Mystic Messenger)
🚀 707/Saeyoung Choi (Romantic)(any pronouns)
🌸 Protagonist (Romantic) (she/her)
#self ship#ill add to this as i remember them#tawnas is a drink bc shes a bartender in my self ship verse
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magnus burnsides 🤝 duck newton
trans bears
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Thrill of the Hunt (Indruck)
The other winner of the "continuation of a fill" poll was this fill. CW for blood since we're dealing with vampires. Also cw for dubcon roleplay, although even then it's clear everyone is consenting and into it.
When Duck was twenty-two, he was paying for his forestry degree by–among other things–working the graveyard shift at a 7/11. Among the regulars was a tall, pale-haired man who always wore red glasses and bought himself a large slurpee and four donuts. Duck thought he was cute, in a weird way, and allowed himself a few minutes of flirting to break-up the monotony of the buzzing lights and whirring drink machines.
One rainy night, after not seeing his favorite customer for over two weeks, Duck was working alone and went into the back alley to dump the trash. One minute he was closing a dumpster, the next his back hit the wall and exquisitely sharp fangs sank into his neck.
He came almost instantly, harder than he ever had in his life. Which was a shock to him and to the vampire who was now having to ease his limp body down to the damp ground. Duck was starting to cry at the thought of someone finding his dead body in a fucking alleyway before his life ever really got started when cold, gentle fingers did their best to brush the tears away.
Blinking through them, he saw a pair of red glasses.
The vampire apologized profusely, explaining the presence of vampire hunters in town meant he’d gone too long without fresh blood, that he was afraid to even seek out blood banks or butchers, and so he’d been half feral when Duck appeared, and would Duck please let Indrid make it up to him?
Duck had nodded, weakly, scrambling to his feet when the bell rang inside the store. The vampire, Indrid, promised he’d be waiting for him when his shift was done. Three hours later, in the grey twilight, Duck stepped out to the parking lot to find a vampire standing by his car with a bouquet of flowers.
Ten years later, Duck is on a twisting, mountain road, on his way to celebrate their tenth anniversary. Indrid arrived yesterday to set the scene. Duck guides the car around a bend and tries to get into the headspace of a single man out for weekend alone, rather than a married one heading for a lake house his husband bought so that Duck could have the whole family over during the summer.
He pulls up to the house a little after five, brings his bag inside and checks his phone for any messages from Juno, who’s house sitting for them back on the coast. Duck loves his native Monongahela, but the Olympic National Forest is a much better workplace when your husband is sensitive to sunlight.
Duck does his best to move through the house like he’s seeing it for the first time, stashing his half-finished soda in the fridge and ignoring the six pack of pineapple Jarritos on the lower shelf, just like he ignores the red glasses on the bedroom dresser and the pink and yellow bathrobe hanging on the door.
As he flips through the little stack of delivery menus from the nearest town, he wonders when Indrid intends to strike. The vampire told him the nature of the game, but not the details, and right now all he’s hoping is that Indrid doesn’t wait too long to show himself; he misses him.
For the first hour, he knows there’s no one there but him and the birds paddling on the lake.
Then the sun sets.
He looks out the bedroom window and swears he sees something moving against the tree trunks. Rather than throwing the door open and yelling that it’d sure be a shame if there was no one here to eat this butterscotch swirl ice cream he bought, he hurries down the stairs and makes sure all the doors and windows are locked. As he clicks the deadbolt on the door to the porch, there’s a rustle of large wings over the house.
When he hangs up the phone after calling in his dinner order, he turns to find glowing, red eyes watching him from just outside the reach of the porch lights.
Duck decides to wait for dinner upstairs. The moment the lower level is out of sight, there’s a faint screech of claws on the living room window.
He thinks about a different version of himself, one who doesn’t know what kinds of things lurk in the shadows, and decides that what he heard must just be a big raccoon. Maybe a deer. All the same, he closes the bedroom door before changing into his pajamas.
When he’s down to his shirt and boxers, the door creaks open inch by inch, as if whatever’s on the other side is savoring the slow reveal.
“Hey, uh, who, whoever’s out there, think you got the wrong house. I’m just renting this place for the weekend, so it can’t be where you’re stayin’.”
“Oh, I am well aware you are a guest here. I am the one who rented it to you.”
The door swings all the way open, revealing a monstrous, insectoid figure. Its feathers are a mottled mix of browns, and its fluffy antenna nearly brush the door frame as it steps into the room. Red, glowing eyes regard him hungrily as the mothman adds, “After all, what better way to obtain fresh blood than luring people into a place which I require no invitation to enter?”
Duck steps backward, all too aware of the fact the monster is between him and his only means of escape, “Look, man, I don’t know what kind of sick fuckin joke this is, but it ain’t funny.”
The mothman cocks his head, “That is because it is not a joke. I feed on blood, which you will be providing me like a good little morsel.”
Duck’s back bumps into the wall, “Bullshit, moths eat fruit and flowers and stuff.”
“Vampire moths are another story, I’m afraid.” The monster opens his mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth, his canines sharp and menacing as needles.
“Fuck that.” Duck pushes off the wall, racing around the intruder. Claws grab his hair, yanking him back and then around to face the creature.
Red eyes meet his own, “Stay still.”
The voice is lilting, gentle, but Duck finds his feet and arms obey the command no matter how much he begs them not to.
“Much better. Now, let’s have a look at you. Arms up.”
Duck complies without intending to, letting the vampire lift his shirt free. One hand runs through his hair and tips his head to the side so another can run a single, sharp claw along his throat. The lower two hands glide along his chest and belly, seemingly uninterested in the predation going on above them.
“Mmmmm” The claw presses on his skin, “such a deliciously unmarred little human.”
He barely avoids laughing at that; there’s a patch of scar tissue just next to where the claw is tracing a heart, a memory of the six month span when other blood supplies were nearly impossible to find and Indrid had to feed from him regularly. He hadn’t minded one bit.
“Please don’t kill ME” he yelps as three claws graze down his neck.
“Oh, don’t fuss so. I did not live as long as I have by exhausting such a robust meal in one go.” The mothman kneels, narrow tongue flicking out to tease Duck’s stomach, distracting him from his boxers hitting the floor.
“What, what are you doing?”
“Enjoying myself.” The tongue flicks out again for an experimental lick of his dick, “other vampires may not play with their food, but I have never had such qualms.”
“Ohfuck.” He tries to jerk away from the sensation but he’s still under a thrall, feet planted and spread enough for two claws to slip between them and play with his folds.
“There we are” the vampire purrs, “aren’t you a lovely and eager little thing?”
“I ain’t!”
“This” the pad of one hand rubs against him and comes away wet, “suggests otherwise. There’s no need to be shy; I find humans taste best when aroused. All that blushing, blood coming to the surface” his teeth graze Duck’s belly, “delicious.”
The mouth pressed to him widens and he braces to be bitten. He’s saved by the doorbell, the mothman’s head swiveling towards the stairs.
“That’s the delivery guy. If, if I don’t go down there they’ll know somethin’ is wrong.���
“I highly doubt an underpaid twenty year old will think it any more than a nuisance that you didn’t answer. However, just to be safe” He stands, shrinking as he does until the winged shape is replaced by a tall, willowy human, “I shall retrieve it. Stay put like a good little snack.” He reaches the door, then turns, “did you tip ahead of time, my love?”
“Yep.”
Indrid disappears, taking his thrall with him. Duck uses the opportunity to grab his pine green bathrobe and throw it on like he actually gives a shit about his modesty and huddles up on the bed.
“Oooh! They gave us extra crab rangoon. That was nice of them.” Indrid returns, setting the take out bags on the top blanket, “how do you like my game so far?”
“It’s fuckin amazing. But, uh” Duck looks at the growing pile of take-out containers, “maybe I oughta have ordered something else. Not sure I’m gonna be ready to bone-down after eating my weight in fried rice.”
Indrid swallows a small, pink pill, the one that allows him to consume human food, “I was rather thinking the same thing. Perhaps we considered it paused for the evening and I can show you what else I have planned in the morning?”
They agree that this is the best option, and so Indrid cuddles up beside him, back against the headboard, talking animatedly about his day and the wolf spider he shepherded from the bathtub when he arrived yesterday afternoon.
Duck’s tired enough from the drive that they don’t do much besides clear the dishes and make sure they’re not setting themselves up to find anything gross in the sink or on the counter in the morning before turning in for the night. Indrid’s sleep schedule operates by a logic unknown to humans or vampires, but he never turns down the chance to warm his chilly skin against Duck’s bulk as the human drifts into his dreams.
When he wakes up, an osprey is calling from the sky above the lake and a sharp fingernail is tracing up and down his throat.
“I have a proposition for you, my little morsel.” Indrid is on his side, facing him with a human face free of glasses.
“I ain’t little” he grumbles, trying to get into character even as he nestles closer.
“That, like all things, is relative, and given that in my true form I outweigh you, I will call you whatever I please. My offer is this: you allow me the opportunity to show just how well I treat my things. If, by sundown tonight, you are not convinced that all I offer is a fair trade for a little blood now and then, I will fly off and leave you to vacation in peace.”
Duck pretends to think about it.
“Yeah. Yeah that seems fair.”
“Excellent. You stay here for as long as you like; I will return shortly.”
Duck stretches under the blankets, enjoying the laziness of the dawn as the odd clank reaches him from the kitchen below. When Indrid returns he’s in his moth form, two hands carrying a breakfast tray while the others hold a mug of black coffee and a bottle labeled “Tennessee Ernie’s Eggnog Iced Coffee.”
“Et voila.” Indrid sets the tray across Duck’s lap, “a southern scramble for a southern gentleman.”
Duck snickers and digs in, Indrid looking pleased with himself as he shoves his tongue into the coffee bottle, lapping it up like a hummingbird on a feeder.
“Gotta say, if the service is good all day, you might just convince me.”
Indrid’s antenna twitch, “It will be. Of that you can be sure.”
—---------------------------------------------------------------
In his nearly two centuries walking the Earth, Indrid must have done enough good amidst the hunger and fear that flowed out around him to convince fate to bring Duck Newton into his path.
He’s loved his human for such a small fraction of his existence, yet their decade together outshines all the years before it. Some days he thinks that if Duck chooses a mortal life and death, Indrid will spend at least a hundred years laying on his grave, letting flowers grow over them both.
These are, admittedly, odd thoughts to have when the most handsome man in creation is walking around his house in a bathrobe that keeps falling open. But Duck has always had such an effect on him, where no matter how much lust he’s feeling–blood or otherwise–his thoughts return to the simple fact that he loves this human very much.
Among Duck’s many excellent qualities is his enjoyment of Indrid’s predatory nature. Discovering he got pleasure from a random human twisting in his grip as he fed did nothing to quell Indrid’s guilt when he was first turned. And while he’s found a few humans over the years who liked being fed from, none of them ever reacted as Duck does. Nor did they actively encourage Indrid to hunt them down, toy with them, or lay in wait before pouncing.
It’s a little after one p.m, and Indrid has tended to Duck’s every whim and want (which is why he’s currently washing massage oil off his hands). The human is lounging on the couch, remote in hand, so once Indrid can touch things without smearing peach-scented shine all over them, he fetches a box of gourmet candy bars from the cupboard. He unwraps a Rocky Road one as he circles the couch, breaking off a square and presenting it to Duck, who takes it with his mouth.
“Feels like you’re tryin to fatten me up.” Duck teases.
“Not in the least. Though I have been told that well-fed, spoiled humans often taste the best.”
“Seem real confident you’ll get a taste.” Duck takes the bar and breaks off another square.
“Is my service not to your liking?”
“Got some needs that ain’t been met yet.” The human opens the bottom half of his robe and spreads his legs. Indrid saw this as a possible timeline, and he’s exceedingly glad this is the direction they’re going.
“Then please, allow me to remedy that.” Being in his human form means it’s easy to kneel between Duck’s legs and nose at his thighs (without sending him into a fit of giggles; a peril of having feathers all over one's face).
Wearing nothing under the robe is an excellent touch for a character of an overconfident human, and Indrid would commend Duck for it were his mouth not already occupied with kissing up his legs.
When his mouth finally closes around Duck’s cock, there’s a little gasp and a hand tangling in his hair. Indrid always feels so surrounded by his human when he does this, like his senses give up on paying attention to anything that isn’t Duck. Even his foresight quiets, content to let the futures spin about on their own for a few moments in favor of fully taking in his husbands moans. Today is no different, and with no work to get to or cat yowling for a meal, Indrid takes his time, resting his hands on soft, warm thighs as he loses himself in his task. He has no idea how long it takes Duck to cum, only that when he does it’s with a charmingly prolonged moan.
Indrid pulls his face back and sits up just enough to rest his head on Duck’s belly, blood pulsing beneath his ear. They can return to the game in a moment; right now he can’t think of anything better than being here.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Duck’s still in his bathrobe, reading on the bed, when the sun disappears behind the trees. He hasn’t even had time to close the book when Indrid’s moth form is in the doorway.
“Well, my little snack, have you come to a decision?”
He stands, sauntering over to Indrid, “That I have.” He runs his fingers through the down of Indrid’s chest.
“And you have accepted my offer?”
He flashes his best smile, “Nope. Sorry, sugar, but you just ain’t convinced me.”
Ruby eyes blink once, slowly, as their owner processes the answer.
“Ah. I see.” Indrid taps his claws together and sighs, “well, in that case, there is only one choice left to me.”
The attack happens with superhuman speed, the vampire grabbing him with all four arms and wrestling him to the bed.
“What the fuck man? We had a deal!”
“Let this be a lesson to you, sweet one: creatures of the night are not creatures of their word.” Teeth scrape across his chest, “oh I am going to have so much fun with you.”
“The fuck you are!” Duck kicks at him, “you didn’t keep you end of the deal so I’m not keepin’ mine!” He adds a shove, which only gets claws dug into his chin.
“I have had quite enough of you arguing with me. Kneel on the floor. Now.”
His body drops and he pretends it’s due to the thrall he can sense throughout his entire being.
“Good” Indrid purrs, one hand rubbing between his legs, “now, open your mouth. There we are, that’s a good boy.” There’s a rustle of feathers and then the head of a large cock with four, vertical ridges presses into his mouth. It slides in easily until it bumps the top of his throat. He tries to pull back and discovers he can’t. As the cock forces itself farther, he whimpers and looks pleadingly at the vampire.
“Ah ah, none of that. You will relax. And you will take it all.”
The thrall does the work for him, the muscles of his jaw and throat going slack to take Indrid inch by inch. Indrid is still purring, still pushing Duck’s head until his mouth reaches the base of his cock, feathers tickling his nose.
When Indrid experimentally rolls his hips, Duck decides he’s not done with the game and tries to push off Indrid’s hips (it’s not their sign to stop, and so he knows Indrid will take it as a sign to be rougher).
A clawed hand instantly closes around his throat, the thumb rubbing at the front of it, “I would think carefully before doing that again. Do you feel that?” his thumb presses down, stroking his own cock through Duck’s throat, “do you feel how you can barely contain me?”
He manages a muffled moan of assent.
“If you continue to pretend you have any power here, I will remove the thrall. You will gag and choke as a result, and I will get a great deal of added pleasure from the vibration of your screams for mercy. So be a good little toy and let me use you.”
Duck whines and slightly nods his head. Then his arms fly out, scrambling for something to hold onto as Indrid fucks his throat with slow, demanding thrusts. He finds the edges of his wings and clings to them even as his mind slips up into the clouds. Even with the thrall there’s an ache in his jaw and the sensation that something is forcing its way in, claiming him. If he trusted his hands not to just flail uselessly the instant he lets go of Indrid, they’d already be between his thighs.
“Mmmnff” Indrid’s hips speed up, “I shouldn’t have even bothered with, with that bargain. I should have dragged your mouth onto my cock first thing this morning and used it like the lovely toy it is. Leave you gasping and pleading while I rolled you over to help myself to the rest of you.”
Duck moans, petting the edge of one wing.
“Do you like that dearest? Good, we shall do it tomorrow. For now” He pushes Duck’s head away, hand still on his throat, “have you accepted your place?”
Through the haze, Duck mumbles out, “Fuck you.”
He’s hauled up and tossed onto the bed, two hands pinning his shoulders to the mattress while the other two hold down his hips.
“Then I think it is high time I show you what humans are really for. Do not move.”
Then Duck is covered in by a massive, feathery figure and fangs pierce his neck, his cries splitting the air. For a brief flash, his body is nothing but an animal, all signals telling him this is it, this is the end. Then the flood comes, pleasure spreading from the wound into every nerve. It carries him away, makes the world into dull sounds and soft, forgiving angles.
Indrid’s command to stay still wasn’t just part of the game. Without the thrall forcing his body to obey its instincts, there’s a chance he’d flinch or thrash in pain or pleasure. It’s a chance they can’t take when Indrid is in this form; his mouth is much bigger, his other teeth much sharper, and a sudden, unintentional movement could tear Duck’s skin.
A claw taps his hip; Indrid is counting, each tap a second of the bite. Duck usually goes woozy at a minute, and the way his head is spinning suggests Indrid is carefully pushing past that. One claw is on his wrist, another the chest above his heart, tracking his pulse, and in ten more taps Indrid finally pulls away with a satisfied moan. His tongue laps at the punctures, coaxing them to coagulate and close.
Indrid blinks and the thrall is gone. Not that Duck can do much with this change of events; his whole body is limp and heavy, a fact which Indrid coos over as shoves Duck’s legs open and drags his ass into his lap.
“Mmmm, this is much better. Not only are you delicious, but now you have no choice but to lay here and let me do as I wish.”
“Hell yeah.” Duck murmurs, his voice seeming to come from outside him.
“That is all I ever asked of you. That is all I want, to glut myself on the taste of you, the feel of you beneath my hands, the sensation of being inside you” He pushes his cock into Duck and moans, “is that so much to ask?”
“Nuh uh.” Duck shakes his head, finds the nearest hand and holds it.
Indrid grins as he fucks him gently, “Good, because it was not really a question. You are mine now to do with as I please. And what pleases me now….” clever fingers find Ducks dick. His hips jerk, his body desperate to chase the sensation but without the energy to do so.
“‘Drid, please, need, need it more, need it harder.”
The strokes intensify and he groans, any movements he manages resulting in him fucking himself on Indrid rather than rubbing off on his hand. Findall his husband takes actual mercy on him, moving his fingers just right to make him cum so hard he forgets not only his name but what time and place he’s in.
He’s reminded by Indrid lunging forward, fucking him frantically and trilling until he cums with a chirp, wings spread so wide Duck can see the eyespots on the underside.
He’s floating through reality like a jellyfish in the sea when Indrid is suddenly fluttering about the room.
“S’wrong?”
“The bite, it’s bleeding more than I’d like. Hold still dearest, let me get it bandaged.” He eases Duck into a sitting position, kissing the bite a final time before wiping it with antiseptic and placing a band-aid across the marks.
“There, all better.” Indrid cups his face, studying it, “can you stay here for me while I get you something to eat? I took an awful lot this time.”
He nods, letting Indrid help him change into actual pajamas before the vampire scurries off to the kitchen. When he returns this time it’s with Gatorade and cookies, the former complete with straw so Duck doesn’t have to move his neck to drink. He does so, watching Indrid change; first into a human, and then into his mothman patterned sleep pants. By the time his husband helps himself to a Chips Ahoy, Duck is back to himself.
“I mention lately how much I love you?”
“Yes, my sweet. About an hour ago.”
“Guess I better say it again, huh?” Duck leans over, kissing Indrid’s cheek, “because I do, sugar. I love you so fuckin much.”
“I love you too.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s unbitten shoulder, “how else shall we spend our vacation? I could get us a reservation at the little fine dining place on the cliffs, or you could take the paddleboard out while I nap in the shade.”
“Both sound good to me. But, uh,” he squeezes Indrid’s thigh, “I got some other plans for you too.”
His husband says nothing. He simply laughs and kisses him another time.
#monster march#indruck#terato#vampire boyfriend#monster boyfriend#indrid cold/duck newton#duck x indrid#trans duck newton#human/monster romance
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Fuck it, y’all are going to be hearing about my all time favorite fanfics today
It’s All Right by empresskatariah
The level of honey nut feelios this gave me cannot be described. Like, this was written pretty soon after the All Might vs All for One fight in the manga. And just the concern and care they showed him and he’s fought for so long and so hard for them???? 😭😭😭 It reminds me a lot of that scene with the train passengers in the second Toby Mcquire Spider-Man movie, and that is the biggest compliment I can give a superhero related thing.
I had so many feelings about it I had to draw a scene from it.
Last Lullaby by Ardent Aspen
*vibrates* have I told you about my lord and savior Last Lullaby??? The fic that left me so inspired I had to write my own??? Fuck I absolutely adore this fanfic. Like, this fic rocked my world because I had never read this dynamic between Megatron and Optimus and it was SO GOOD!!!
Let Me Hear You Whisper by scancrasher
I don’t think you guys understand the depth I adore Megatron/Soundwave (particularly TFP). It’s like, one of my all time favorite ships, and this fic absolutely feed into that obsession. The characterization and world building is so so so *chef’s kiss*
Come Morning Light by NotHereForIt
My all time favorite Mob Psycho 100 fic. Mogami arc in the anime got high key nerfed, but this really captured the horror presented in the manga. It really hit me hard, man
A Courtship by nev_longbottom
Look, I’m not really sure what to say in my defense, I just like gender role fuckery. And this hit a spot I desperately needed hit.
The Sum of All Our Parts by Windsett
Fuckkkkkkkk, I liked Hermann a lot okay??? And I’m just so genuinely absolutely obsessed with idea and his relationship with Newton and this fic messed me up (affectionate)
Tears Are Gems of the Soul by akblake
The world building is some of the best I have ever seen, I am in awe every time I read it. And this fic is the perfect middle ground to something heavy enough it gives me plenty to be consumed by, while not being so overwhelming it takes me a week to read it.
The Bat Paladin by thecityofthefireflies
Look I don’t know SHIT about Voltron after like,,, season 1, and frankly after what I’ve heard I don’t want to, but I’m absolutely obsessed with “Batman adopts orphans from other shows” and something about this one is really fucking fun?? And deliciously angsty.
Subject E by Ook
To this day I am dealing with severe Maximum Ride brainrot, because I’m obsessed with human experimentation stories. It’s the perfect vessel for whump and angst and a shitton of comfort and learning/relearning how to rejoin society.
I think this is only fic that survived my rage after X-Men……………..went the direction it did. But that’s neither here nor there.
Mr. Yagi by AoiMikans, Swiftwidget
Im so obsessed with the idea of All Might and heroism, even when he’s not using One for All. What does Toshinori Yagi mean to people?
Number One In Our Hearts by SilverInkbolt
I have a huge guilty pleasure of outsider POV/social media fics y’all have NO IDEA. And with All Might being a hero, in and out of costume?? Love at first read.
Sword and Shield by SilverInkbolt
I like the duality of it. All Might is a ducking dweeb and I love him, but I ALSO love when he’s terrifying. And the show is all about learning to be a hero, so reading about him showing off his years of hero experience just made me so happy.
Laugh Out Loud by Deviation
Honestly I’m not sure what to say I love this one. Aizawa reaching an understanding about All Might was so delightful to read, and it’s just so satisfying.
o that i were a man by dvldegg
Not sure if I found this before or after my Trans Realization™️, but I love it. Beatrice and Benedict are great characters to be smacked with the transgender agenda 😂😂
Overpowered by galaxysoup
This fic reads so fucking Autistic to me. Maybe I’m biased, but I have had sensory meltdowns like this. And honestly? With how much masking Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan do throughout the show, to me it’s not a stretch.
Step One: Don’t Fall In Love (Step One Failed) by ApatheticRobots
This is actually pretty new to the list, but it’s still really fucking good. I had tricked myself into shipping Starscream/Optimus and was genuinely surprised by how good a lot of the stories were!! This one perfectly balanced being so absolutely hilarious and also a grounded way for these characters to grow close. Stop Me by megadoomingir is also incredible, but is a very big investment. Worth it though!!
Carry On Wayward Son by Kenyastarflight
Another new one to my list, but still so fucking good. And then after being so freaking good it has to remind me of Last Lullaby and my own fic. The audacity (complimentary)
Keep Me Safe by NovemberBear
The Batman (2022) really fucking did me in okay! And then this fic had to come along and kick me while I was down!! I think I just really enjoy superhero stories where we see how the public reacts to these heroes. The symbiotic relationship between the person that saves and those they save. So this just really gave me intense feelings.
When I’m ready to die from these wounds by xantissa
I don’t exactly know how to explain why I love this fic, but it’s incredible. The plot is just awesome, and I love how alien Aziraphale and Crowley are here. They feel not human. I guess I like it when two characters are a bit fucked up for their love of their life. It’s just so absolutely delicious and it deserves so much praise.
Satan is Tired by Your_Narrator
The Devilman Crybaby fixit we didn’t deserve. It is legitimately glorious and I adore this fic so fucking much.
Sebei by ariasune
I rewatched Yu-Gi-Oh around 2017/2018 and I absolutely fell in love with Rishid’s character. And this fic just scratched absolutely everything I need.
A Handful of Water by ariasune
This fic is THE SHIT if you love Rishid. I love his convictions he makes regarding the situation, Malik’s confusion and angst and guilt, and Isis just backing Rishid up. Their hug meant EVERYTHING to me.
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2023 fic roundup
thank you so much to @purgeshubble for the tag!! it's been a slow fucking year but I published 10,917 words. My stats seem to decrease exponentially every year but I don't really mind because I started my ao3 account in 10th grade and definitely made a shift in like 2021 from writing kind of shitty fic that took me a short amount of time for huge fandoms (stranger things lmfao) to writing better-crafted, more time-consuming fics for unpopular fandoms that I care much more deeply about!
I only published 6 fics this year but here they are!!
January: Neptune Drowns His Children
Veronica Mars; Kendall & Dick
Post Not-Pictured, Kendall takes charge.
Wrote this one in the midst of my crazy girl once-again-thinking-about-Cassidy-Casabalancas VM rewatch era and it shows!!
February: the way i love the ocean
Keeper of the Lost Cities; queerplatonic Dex & Keefe
Dex & Keefe talk about love.
Dipped my toe back into the fandom for KOTLC aro week and am so glad I did! Aro Dex was such a revelation that I needed to write something down and this was a wonderful reason to do so!
April: Version of Love
The Adventure Zone: Balance; aroace Lucretia & aspects Magnus
Lucretia & Magnus talk about love (are you sensing a theme here?)
Of the many Lucretia thoughts that rattled around my brain during my first listen through of TAZ Balance, these were the only ones that I could put into words!! she's aro <3
June: making yourself up as you go along
The Adventure Zone: Amnesty; trans Duck
Duck Newton grows up.
this was so very fun to write!! I should think about amnesty more tbh.
July: Something About Love
The Bear; aroace Carmy
Carmy Berzatto learns to love.
Definitely my favorite fic I wrote this year!! something soooo cathartic about aroace Carmy and something even more cathartic about writing it all down!!
October-December (ongoing): turning west towards san francisco
We Are Not Free
one-word prompt collection!
this one has been super fun and has really helped me to just write and remember that the length of a piece is irrelevant!
half of these were about being aroace <3 I think I've successfully developed a brand <3 <3 <3
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cornucopia
mer indrid cold/stranded sailor duck newton. trans duck tentacle porn. double penetration in two holes. mentions of oviposition. 1.6k words. as usual, indulgent supernatural sugar daddy indrid is my absolute fave
Duck Newton stood shirtless in the shallow water off a sandy beach, attempting to spear the silvery fish that flitted around his ankles. The most exciting thing that had happened all day was that he saw a large crab also hunting for fish in the shallows, but when he tried to chase after it he managed to slip and fall on his ass in the water, and when he got to his feet the crab was long gone.
He’d been here for three weeks. He thought.
At first he tried to keep track of the days by making marks on a piece of driftwood, but then he forgot whether he made the mark in the morning or in the evening, so a few days he’d probably double-counted, and there were definitely at least two days where he got back to bed too exhausted to scratch anything out at all.
In any case, it had been awhile. Long enough that the bloody scratches on his body from the shipwreck had faded, the soreness of being flung into the sea and scraped up on the beach like scrambled eggs out of a pan. Now he was just sunburned.
It had also been long enough that he’d figured out some kind of routine. The trees here produced large, green fruits that weren’t half bad when roasted and his vague memories of Robinson Crusoe suggested might be breadfruit. The rest of his calories came from fish.
He didn’t much like fish before he ended up here. But starvation will make anyone less picky, and now he cooked whatever fish he could catch over an open fire, sucked burnt flesh off the bone, and savored the eyeballs as much as any seagull.
Hence the fishing now. He’d caught a few and was still steamed about the runaway crab when a mer popped out of the water several feet away and swam over.
If you’d asked him three weeks ago (approximately) if merfolk existed, Duck would have said no, absolutely not. A tale told by lonely, probably horny sailors.
But then the shipwreck happened. After he’d been thrown off the boat he could have sworn he felt strong hands around his arms, tugging him to shore, and leaving him there. And then the next morning, the first time he dared to venture close to the beach to see if anything useful had been washed up, several mers emerged. They introduced themselves, asked his name, asked if he was alright. He’d told them he was fine, though his stomach was complaining and he had no idea how he was going to survive. It wasn’t a good look to beg for handouts from the locals after he’d just invaded their territory.
The mer who joined him today hadn’t been a member of the welcoming committee, but Duck still knew him by name.
“Hey, Indrid.”
“Hello, Duck.” Indrid’s smile was as bright as the sun on the sea. Unless mer social norms were completely different from human ones, Indrid had been flirting with him each time they’d met.
“Gorgeous weather today,” Indrid continued, wrapping one tentacle around Duck’s leg underneath the surface of the water. Duck didn’t know him well enough to ask how unusual it was for mers to have a mass of trailing tentacles instead of a tail, but on the rare nights he went to bed not too exhausted to think, those deceptively strong tentacles were rather prominent in Duck’s masturbatory fantasies.
“Yep,” said Duck. Indrid’s arrival had momentarily scared all the fish away. “It’s been gorgeous every day.”
“But today it’s not too windy.”
Something occurred to Duck. “Do y’all have a rainy season here?”
“It rains sometimes.”
Duck had initially thought the tentacle around his leg was just Indrid anchoring himself in place for a chat, but that theory was becoming harder to defend by the moment as the tentacle wandered, finally reached the hem of his boxers. The sensation on his inner thigh was profoundly distracting.
“Ooo, you’re warm,” said Indrid.
“I’m warm-blooded, it’ll do it to you,” Duck replied.
“May I continue touching you?”
“Go right ahead.” The sensation of Indrid’s tentacles wasn’t at all unpleasant. Still, Duck was having trouble trying not to squirm as the tentacle teased even further up between his legs. Indrid didn’t seem surprised at all at his anatomy. Did he know that human males usually had something different?
All thought was obliterated as the side of a tentacle brushed against his folds.
“And sensitive, it seems…” Indrid mused. “You humans are so fun to play with, with your genitals all exposed for whatever anyone feels like doing to them. Wouldn’t you like to take a break from fishing to have some fun?”
“I can’t,” said Duck. If he stopped now he’d have a very sad dinner and a hungry night.
“Mmm,” said Indrid. “But you’re so nice to touch.” Another tentacle had found its way up his boxers, and the tip was pressing instantly against his ass.
“Normally a fella buys me dinner first,” Duck managed, breathlessly.
“Humans are pretty toys, not mates.”
“Rude.” Duck’s breath was punched out of him as the tentacle plunged into his ass.
“I’m sorry, would you rather be stuffed full of my eggs? I doubt you have any of your own to put in me.”
“Hngh.” Duck couldn’t even blame the noise he made on a physical sensation. The thought of eggs, Indrid’s eggs, made his clit twitch.
“Oh my.” The sharp teeth of Indrid’s grin probably should have been more alarming than they were. “Maybe my toy has another use.” Now there were tentacles in both of Duck’s holes, and Indrid was still talking like nothing was happening. “Yes, just because you couldn’t fertilize them like a mer would doesn’t mean I can’t have quite a nice time filling you up.”
The spear slipped from Duck’s hand, and Indrid picked it up and handed it back to him. “Distracted, pet?”
“Uh, yeah!”
“I’d hate to keep you from your work.” Indrid pulled partway out, drawing a frustrated whine, and laughed. “Oh, poor pet, make up your mind.”
“Fine.” Duck threw the spear back up onto the beach, out of the range of the waves. Then he grabbed Indrid’s face with both hands and kissed him soundly. Indrid trilled happily. “Fuck me? Please?”
“With pleasure.”
One thick tentacle wrapped around each of Duck’s thighs and pulled them apart, literally lifting his feet off the sand, and a third tentacle caught his wrists and held them behind his back. All this seemed effortless for Indrid: he could support Duck easily and keep him right where he wanted him. Then Indrid’s skin was cool against Duck’s chest and they were kissing again, and Indrid’s hands wandered, squeezing Duck’s ass and groping his belly and finally finding his nipples.
“What are these for?”
“For - for breastfeeding.”
“Ah. Like whales.” Indrid pinched one, and smiled when Duck reacted. “And playing with, apparently.”
“That too. Some folks pierce ‘em.”
“What an excellent idea. You humans, imaginative as you are good incubators.”
“Are you going to lay eggs in me? Right now?”
“Another time, perhaps, if you’d allow me.” Indrid kissed Duck’s neck, open-mouthed, letting his sharp teeth ghost over the skin there, like he wanted to bite down but was restraining himself. “I’ll have to find the spell that will let you breathe underwater, and then I can take you home with me and keep you.”
“Please.” Christ, that sounded nice. No more spending all day trying to fish and figure out what kinds of fruit and berries wouldn’t kill him, no more patching his makeshift shelter against the rain and worrying about what he’d do if a hurricane came. Just living with Indrid in the calm world beneath the waves.
“Would you like that, Duckling? Being my spoiled pet? I’d take very good care of you.” Indrid’s slender fingers found Duck’s clit. “Attend to your every need.” A happy sigh. “My warm, handsome human. I’d fit you with a collar studded with jewels. And a leash, so I can drag you down onto my cock whenever I please.”
“Yes.” The tentacle in his ass was mostly still, but the other one was thrusting now, fucking him in earnest, and Indrid’s fingers were slick against his clit, too slick for proper friction. “Fucking, fuck, harder-” Duck gasped, and the tentacle in his ass somehow went deeper, filling him up, making him think of what eggs would feel like, what it would feel like to be so full he couldn’t move, to have Indrid spoiling him as his mate.
Indrid’s grip on him was so firm that he couldn’t even thrash as he came, as Indrid fucked him through it. Only when Duck went slack and groaned did Indrid slowly start pulling out of him. “That,” said Indrid, “was quite possibly the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Felt pretty fucking fantastic on my end too,” said Duck.
“We shall have to do it again sometime, then.” Indrid’s tentacles released Duck’s legs and arms so he could stand upright again.
“Yeah. Right.” He was still on his own. No gold collar for him, no being spoiled. Duck groped for the spear again.
“...You’re going right back to fishing?” said Indrid. He honestly sounded a little hurt.
“If I don’t, I won’t have dinner!” Duck snapped.
“Oh,” said Indrid. “I could feed you. If you’d like.” Duck’s expression must have conveyed some of his hopelessness and exhaustion, because Indrid touched his arm. “I’m serious. I have plenty of food. We all do. If we’d known you needed it we would have offered before.”
“I didn’t want to impose.”
“It’s not imposing, Duck.” Indrid’s voice turned teasing. “I take very good care of my pets.”
Duck allowed himself to collapse into Indrid’s arms. He was exhausted. And, if he allowed himself to think about something besides pure survival, he was lonely. Being taken care of sounded really good.
“Oh, pet,” said Indrid, stroking Duck’s hair. “Yes, I will bring you all the fish you need. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
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characters with indisputable trans man swag:
duck newton
columbo
rory williams
james kirk
steve rogers
#ok to rb#feel free to add#ren speaks#Picard is also trans but he doesn’t have trans man swag he’s a different kinda guy
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