#horse insemination

[kisanofindia]

Horse Rearing: घोड़ा पालन में उन्नत तकनीक का इस्तेमाल, ये है देश की पहली Private Equine Semen Laboratory

स्टैलियन स्पर्म से मिलेंगे अच्छी क्लालिटी के घोड़े

अच्छी नस्ल के घोड़ों की चाह हर घोड़ा पालक को होती है। मगर प्राकृतिक गर्भाधान में ये संभव नहीं हो पाता। इसलिए आजकल वैज्ञानिकों ने घोड़ियों को कृत्रिम तरीक से गर्भाधान की तकनीक विकसित कर ली है। मगर इस काम के लिए अच्छी क्वालिटी के स्टैलियन स्पर्म की ज़रूरत होगी, जिसे पूरा करने के लिए पुणे में एक प्राइवेट इक्वाइन सीमेन लैब (Equine Semen Laboratory) बनाया गया है। जानिए घोड़ा पालन से जुड़ी इस तकनीक के बारे में।

इक्वाइन सीमेन लैब पुणे (Equine Semen Laboratory): अन्य पशुपालकों की तरह ही घोड़ा पालन करने वाले भी चाहते हैं कि उनकी घोड़ियां अच्छी नस्ल के बच्चों को जन्म दें, मगर ज़रूरी नहीं कि जिस घोड़े का इस्तेमाल प्रजनन के लिए हो रहा है, वो अच्छी नस्ल का ही हो। ऐसे में स्टैलियन (नर घोड़ा जिसका इस्तेमाल प्रजनन के लिए किया जाता है) के स्पर्म से घोड़ियों को गर्भाधान कराके अच्छी नस्ल के घोड़े के बच्चे प्राप्त किए जा सकते हैं।

मगर समस्या ये है कि स्टैलियन स्पर्म (stallion sperm) आसानी से मिलते नहीं है। इस समस्या को दूर करने के लिए पुणे के Equine Breeder (घोड़ा प्रजनक) ने भारत के पहले इक्वाइन सीमेन लैब (Equine Semen Laboratory) यानी घोड़े के वीर्य प्रयोगशाला की स्थापना की।

पूरे भारत में सप्लाई करते हैं घोड़े के वीर्य

पोलो जैसे खेल में मज़बूत और फुर्तिले घोड़ों का इस्तेमाल होता है, ये अच्छी नस्ल के होते हैं। सभी घोड़ा पालक चाहते हैं कि उनके घोड़े और जो बच्चे पैदा हों वो मज़बूत और आकर्षक हो। इसलिए आजकल वो कृत्रिम गर्भाधान तकनीक (Artificial insemination technique) का इस्तेमाल कर रहे हैं और इस काम के लिए स्टैलियन स्पर्म का खूब इस्तेमाल हो रहा है।

ये घोड़ा अच्छी नस्ल का माना जाता है और प्रजनन के लिए सबसे बेहतर होता है। मगर सभी घोड़ा पालन करने वालों को स्टैलियन स्पर्म आसानी से मिल नहीं पाता है। इस समस्या को दूर करने के लिए पुणे के रंजीत खेर ने देश की पहली Equine Semen Laboratory यानी घोड़े के वीर्य प्रयोगशाला की स्थापना की, जो पूरे देश में स्टैलियन फ्रोज़न सीमेन की सप्लाई करता है। उन्होंने ये लैब ICAR-NRCE के सहयोग से स्थापित की।

ICAR से खरीदी तकनीक

रंजीत खेर और उनकी टीम ने घोड़े के वीर्य (Horse semen) प्रयोगशाल की शुरुआत करने से पहले इससे जुड़ी तकनीकी ट्रेनिंग ली। उन्होंने स्टैलियन वीर्य संग्रह (stallion semen collection) के साथ-साथ क्रायोप्रिजर्वेशन तकनीक की भी ट्रेनिंग हासिल की।

और पढ़ें......

[bovineblogger]

so. How do people inseminate cows with the obtained semen?

I’d look it up… but I’m worried about seeing gross/NSFW images so I’d rather just ask for a description.

Mom and dad were watching Yellowstone and there was a scene where they were getting semen from a stallion and we had a discussion about it and I asked dad how do they inseminate an animal and he didn’t know so. I thought I should ask you. The process is likely pretty similar between cows and horses.

ok basically uhhh

u got a shoulder length plastic glove on one arm. giant semen syringe in the other.

basically the long glove arm goes in da anus and feels around to guide the ai gun thru the cervix where u deposit the semen! there are a lot of steps im skipping over but thats the gist of it lol

AI is a lot safer and cheaper than natural breeding, which requires owning a bull or renting one and can injure the cow! so thank u AI

ALSO!! just an ammendum cuz i know some ppl get worried..

i genuinely cannot state just how much cattle do not care. cow brains do not work the same as human brains, they do not ascribe the same importance to reproductive stuff that we do. artificial insemination does not bother them. its safer and easier than natural breeding, and i cannot stress enough, it does not stress them out. they are ok!! i love you.

[zorosleftmantit101]

One piece characters

"As A.I generated quotes"

Characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, usopp, law, kid, killer, buggy, shanks, ace, sabo, do-flamingo

A/N: Not currently writing while I binge whole cake island ark

C/W: swearing, whores,

Luffy: Feel at least a little bit of sympathy for a horse

Zoro: Professional soccer players become professional soccer players because of the pay

Sanji: Making up erotic fantasies is dangerous

Usopp: MEDITATION IS SCARY

Franky: Robots ignore love almost all the time

Law: Make modern medicine disappear

Kid: AQUARIUS

(JAN. 20 - FEB. 18)

HORRIBLE FRIEND, TWO-FACED SPOUSE, RETARDED HUSBAND

Killer: Birds are not supposed to improve your muscles

Buggy: Eat poop and get a psychiatrist dont be afraid

Shanks: only by the magic of Insemination will one be able to achive true self annihilation

Katakuri: Tell everyone the rapture begins now

Sabo: The way humans exist is a metaphor for sex work

Ace: Behind every person their is vomit

Doflamingo: knowing that you are a more effective prostitute dosnt make you a more efficient whore

[mrskokushibo]

Announcement and Teaser

After a long hiatus, I am writing again. I am excited to inform you that the first chapter of my first ever series comes out at the end of this week.

It is a story I have been holding in my heart and thoughts for a long time now. Namely, my version of the backstory of Michikatsu's failed marriage.

It will be a deep dive into the complicated relationship between siblings, lovers, all in the confines of a time and a culture that did not leave room for emotional expression other than behind closed doors.

This story is important to me, as the Tsugikuni twins and their tragic fate have been an obsession of mine since the very first time I read the manga. I sincerely hope that you will follow me on this journey as the story unfolds.

I will be thrilled to hear your feedback and am open to plot discussions. Just pop in an Ask with a header Burn Up.

When a new day begins, the memory of the moon gets erased by the blazing rays of the sun.

TEASER BELOW (exerpt from Ch 2 or 3)

‘Please sit, y/n. I will only be a moment.’ Yoriichi pointed politely with his large hand toward a stone bench under a large tree.

The sun wasn’t very strong yet and the air was still saturated with the residue moisture of the cooler night. It was a lovely morning, of the day before your wedding. You were glad you could spend it with Michikatsu’s quiet but amiable brother.

As he walked away, leaving you alone for a moment, you got seated in the cooling shade of the large platan next to the fenced-off paddock, your attention turned toward your surroundings. Inside the enclosure, it strolled a shapely white mare. The horse seemed friendly and walked up to you when you stood up and came closer to the fence. It was round at its hunches, with a noble small head and big eyes. The silky straight dove white mane was fluttering in the light breeze.

But, all of a sudden, the horse was startled. In a blink of an eye, it neighed, thrust its head up in the air, and trotted skittishly into the middle of the paddock. You did not understand what would cause such a change in the horse’s demeanor until you looked toward the stables. Out of the wide entrance, came Yoriichi, leading a large raven black stallion. He was holding the horse firmly by the reign at its mouth. The horse was a thing of beauty and you could not take your eyes away from it.

Large, with powerful hunches, black hide glistening like polished ebony in the warm rays of morning sun, huge hooves, covered with feather of black hair, and a long, fierce head with dark chestnut, almost maroon eyes. Its mane and tail were thick, long, and wavy. The mane was blending with Yoriichi’s equally huge and wavy hair. For a moment you had to look away as a faint blush began to sprout on your cheeks.

But then your eyes were drawn as in trance back to the sight in front of you. Yoriichi’s ponytail was swinging side to side in time with the horse's tail. And … what showed itself, you were not the only one blushing. His blush grew stronger, making him look truly adorable, creating such a stark contrast to his large frame and masculine features.

‘I wish to apologise for what you are about to witness, y/n. I did not think before I made the offer to look after you today. But this, well, process, cannot wait. The mare needs to be inseminated today as her owners are going back to their estate this afternoon. I am truly sorry about this.’

He looked down at his feet and turned his gaze to the side, fidgeting uncomfortably with the reigns.

‘Oh, but Yoriichi-sama. I do not mind. This is the nature of farm work and I am no stranger to farming. Please, do not apologise.’

At the same time, in your mind, an apology to the gods was already forming as you felt wetness pool between your legs. Yoriichi’s presence caused you to imagine things… Things a soon-to-be bride of another man, let alone a twin of Yoriichi, should not imagine. It was wrong on so many levels but Yoriichi’s kindness, timid and respectful behaviour were triggering these thoughts in a way Michikatsu’s presence never could.

MASTERLIST

Tagging 💜 @doumadono @muzansfangs @crescentmoontsuki @horror4themasses @cursetopia ❤️

Special thanks to @sorrowful-lover for helping me find the peace and tranquility I needed to be creative again 🙏🩵

Divider by @saradika Artwork: Pinterest

[l3viat8an]

I have nsfw analytical thoughts about levi dyck so yeah, for those who wish to read/listed, Nsfw twin dick analysis following:

Due to some research on my own part i have some things to say about possible Levi dick theory: firstly, if he has more than one dick, there is absolutely no way to quietly or secretly have sex unless his room is sound proofed and we know it isn't t because everyone can hear him yell all the time. I say this because the two dicks in question, no matter the size or shape (tested this theory on multiple things including tentacles) it creates a gap that allows a significant amount of air to be shoved in an out of MC. Im afab so i have only tested the i tended entry for this >_>

That being said, said gap not only is going to allow for "air noises" it also means any cum or eggs or what ever else scenario is happening, is going to be thrusted out n several directions upon entry thrust.

The other thing i noticed, if it is tentacle like, it requires a lot more lube for some reason? Dunno y or where tf its going but it gets used up quicker.

The next bit i know from having kids: even if ur like me and like having ur cervix hit with the dyck, having it opened HURTS LIKE A BITCH. A nurse checked regularly to see how open it was and her shoving fingers n it hurt, none the less if you're re putting some penile protrusions in there to lay eggs. Thats gunna hurt so bad. Even when numbed. I took all the meds they would give me and it still hurt. This from someone with a high pain tolerance.

(Do with this what you heathens reading this will, to each their own.)

On the egg thing; while oviposition is cool, this also implies that Levi is trans. Even if he's also adding sperm to inseminate, that would mean he's hermaphroditic and you the reader are just a holding cell. So yeah, egg levi says trans rights no matter what 👍

The only species on earth where the male is the female position baby wise are sea horses and sea dragons, neither of which lay eggs. The female lays them and the male carries them in a pouch to give birth later.

For mc to then birth what ever kind of egg levi has to give, that egg is going to need to be soft shelled to get past the super tight cervix and through the curved birth canal. The egg could harden after the fact like a snake, but that might pose some higher risk to MC as that kind of egg usually has some glue like substance its laid with and if that hardens inside a human MC they might have medical issues to follow; and should those eggs not be of the soft shell variety, MC needs a cesarean [c-section] to remove them so they don't shatter upon contraction or push.

This all assuming they're a size that is smaller than a human baby that can be pushed out to begin with. As with egg laying creatures they are born the size that can fit in the egg and just grown normally unlike human babies that r born and then continue to develop before growing. Its a minor difference but kinda important.

I won’t lie- I’ve used a tentacle toy before the lube is so true helpshdj but never two- like wow- I bow to you anon 🙇🏼‍♀️

‘n the whole ’cervix fucking’ is fun to read but like irl not really my thing, and I don’t even want to imagine the pain of having it opened 😭 fanfics are amazing!!!but I could never jshsjsj

Honestly I love the idea of Levi being hermaphroditic- (so many ideas)

Also this is all gonna be super helpful for more ‘realistic’-ish writing!!! Omfg- thank you!!

[sleepymccoy]

Pitching a theory

Mermaids and mermen are the females of the species. They all have the same bits just different decorations. They all lay unfertilised fish eggs

Some mermaids live in a lagoon and will go find male fish, bring them to the lagoon to inseminated the eggs, then let them go

Others who live in the shallows will hide their eggs in amongst other fish's eggs. They'll go and gather their young once they hatch

Others will lay eggs on the sides of sharks or the underside of some driftwood and let it go off into the ocean deep to be fertilised when it is

A mermaid's human half will look like it's mermaid mother's. The dark skin of the lagoon, the pale of the deep, the myriad of appearances in the corals

Their fish half will look like whatever fertilised their egg

So, you can have a lagoon and a deep mermaid who were both fertilised by an eel, who would meet and although they don't know each other they call one another brother

Your society of mermaids in the corals look different in every way, including different tails. To the uninformed they would seem unrelated, but no, that is just the way they are

Some lagoon mermaids choose their fathers for the aesthetic. Fish with only the frilliest, most complex of fins are brought into the lagoon when they're laying. Other lagoons use more inscrutable reasons, judgements of worth or a quality humans don't appreciate make the choice

But the mermaids of the deep, the wild and lonely ones, they can get strange. Sharks, angler fish, a turtle

Then one egg rolls onto the sand and finds itself in a situation no one considered. A horse wanders by, having just finished with a mare...

Centaurs begin here

[theprissythumbelina]

So you want to write about horses.

(Part 3! Enjoy this post? Want to know more? Check out So You Want To Write About Horses Part 1 and So You Want To Write About Horses: Medieval Edition)

Maybe your character is a jockey, or a rancher, or a stablehand, or the ever popular cowboy in the wild west. Maybe they have a whole team and an Olympic dream. But what do people even do with horses? I can help.

First, some vital terms

The equipment that a horse wears is referred to as Tack. Tack can be minimal or incredibly complex. The part that goes on the horse's head when riding is the bridle, and the part that goes on the back for the person to sit on is the saddle.

^ Got that? Good, there will be a test at the end.

Now, What do people even do with horses?

To know the jobs around horses, you should know that the equestrian world is divided into very distinct and separate realms, and the further you delve into these realms, the more specific and specialized the horses, equipment, and terms become. Broadly, there is "pleasure" horses and "working" horses. Working horses are relied upon for physical labor to support their humans. Pleasure horses fall into more of a hobby for their humans.

There is also the Western riding style and the English riding style. The Western style descends from the Spanish saddle, and is used throughout the world, but most commonly in the Americas, where it is closely tied to herding cattle. The English style is a bit harder to clearly pin down the original influences, but has history in military uses throughout the European continent, and currently exists internationally. The English style is the style used at the Olympic games and in jumping competitions, whereas Western is not.

^ this is an example of a Western Style working horse. Western describes the style of equipment as well as the riding style. This horse is dressed for herding cattle, with a large comfortable saddle and simple rope bridle.

^ This is also a working horse, this time in the English riding style. Notice the saddle is much smaller, without a large 'horn' at the front of the saddle, and the bridle on the horse's head is much more complex. This horse is a Police horse.

^ and there are many combinations, variations, or lack ofs that exist. Some people have trained their horses to not need any tack, and need only the tiniest movements of their rider's body. Don't ask me how, I am not one of them.

Finally, Professions involving horses.

For ease of understanding, I will break this into segments that involve all horses, English horses, Western horses, and then the even more specific horses like racehorses, ect.

This edition will deal with professions involving All Horses.

Equine Veterinarians

Veterinarians that work with horses in rural areas are usually more generally large animal veterinarians, while equine vets, often attached to an equine hospital or clinic, have specific and in-depth knowledge of equine medicine, rather than equine and bovine medicine. Both large animal vets and equine vets administer vaccines, diagnostic tests, and certificates of health, as well as diagnosing and prescribing treatments of injuries and sicknesses. Vets also aid in breeding horses, caring for pregnant mares, birthing foals, and handling semen collection or injection for artificial insemination.

One of the most common reasons for a vet call is for the treatment of colic, any horse owner's nightmare. Horses have a massive system of intestines, and any change to a horse's diet, stress, or exercise, as well as many other causes, can lead to a backup of food or feces in the digestive system. Minor cases can resolve with pain treatment, but in severe cases surgery is required, and horses can die very quickly from what is essentially an extremely dangerous stomach ache. It is one of the most common causes of death for horses.

^ In very severe cases, parts of the intestine tie themselves into knots, lose blood flow, and die within the horse. I know many horses that have died from colic, and some that have survived.

Farriers

Farriers are pedicure specialists for horses. The hoof of a horse is simply a very large and thick fingernail, and a farrier is an expert in trimming, shaping, and even repairing that massive fingernail, as well as tacking on metal shoes to the bottom of a horse's foot. Farriers are also sometimes blacksmiths, and will create their own shoes, while others use premade shoes and nails.

^ (1)A farrier tacking on a shoe to a horse's hoof. (2) Shaping hooves with a rasp. Farrier treatments cause no pain to the horse when done correctly, and the specialized knowledge of which is why many farriers are expensive. Horses will need this redone every 4-8 weeks, depending on the horse and the environment. Even more than the vet, a good farrier is vital to the health and use of a horse, while a bad farrier can ruin a horse in less than the swing of a hammer.

(Side note: This is not a shoe, and no person putting that on a horse should be considered a farrier. I don't take many strong stances in informational posts, but this is one.)

Saddlers

These expert leather workers fit and shape the tack to the shape of the horse and the shape of the rider. Many serious riders have custom fitted tack, where a base saddle or bridle has been reworked after purchase to perfectly fit the riding pair in question. (I have one, it was expensive, and it continues to be worth it). Historically, tack has always been made with leather, which allows for stretch and molding of the tack, as well as decades of longevity, and still today, only the cheapest of tack is made with plastics. Saddlers often specialize in English or Western style tack, and many old brands are still known today for certain fits.

^ An expert Colorado saddler at work.

Trainers

Horses do not naturally trust humans, even after thousands of years of domestication, nor do they automatically know how to be ridden. Trainers are experts not only in their discipline, but also experts in horse behavior, communication (with humans and horses), basic first aid, common sense, and the rarest of all, the elusive 'horse sense'. Horse sense give a trainer the understanding of a horse's personality, and allows them to form a bond that not only teaches the horse to trust them, but to trust all humans. A trainer's job is to discover the horse's potential abilities, as well as the horse's fears, dislikes, and any pain or mis-training that could impede a horse's progress. Across the world, there are many style of training, many jobs that horses must be taught to preform, and a lot of misunderstandings. A good trainer can save the lives of horses and humans alike, a bad trainer can ruin both. The first steps of training a horse can be referred to as 'starting', 'breaking', 'training', 'backing', and many more.

Grooms

Grooms are the beauty professionals of the horse world, as well as the people getting everything done behind the scenes at high level barns or shows. In some places, grooms bring the horse in from the field or stall to be brushed, put the tack on the horse, warm the horse up, and then hand the horse over to the rider. In other places, grooms are a luxury as much as a butler for your horse. Grooms may also be responsible for managing the stables and tacking areas, keeping those areas clean through sweeping or removing mess, and potentially feeding, moving horses from pasture to stable, or whatever else needs to be done at a large stable. In other situations, the more grunt work will fall to part-time stablehands, while the grooms focus on working with the horses and riders.

^ Racehorse Groom Stephanie Searle grooms a racehorse.

Floaters/Equine Dentists

Horses are unique animals, with unique digestive systems, as has already been discussed, and with unique teeth. Due to horses' diets involving primarily hays, grasses, or grains, the teeth of a horse receive a great deal of wear from the tough nature of these foods. The wear patterns are so well documented that they have for thousands of years been used to tell the age of a horse with a great deal of accuracy.

Floaters are equine teeth experts, and receive their name from the practice of 'floating', or grinding sharp areas of horses' teeth down to prevent these sharp points from slicing into the horse's cheeks or stopping a horse from properly chewing.

^ Floating a horse's teeth. Also not painful, but like many people, horses tend to prefer being sedated for the dentist.

Professional Transport

In the modern age, as well as to a certain extent, the past, horses are constantly being moved, shown, sold, and shipped. Professional horse transport exists in the form of semi-trucks, ships, and planes, as well as trains. The transport of horses, usually very expensive and valuable horses, requires a team of professionals including veterinarians to ensure the horses' safety in transition.

^ Horses ready to go on a plane. Personally, a terrifying sight.

Alternative Treatments

Just like human medicine, horse medicine has a proliferation of supplements, alternative treatments, folk magic, and home treatments. Professional equine nutritionists work with feed companies as well as feed supplement companies (think herbal food additives as well as fish oil, ect.) to create supplement brands that claim to calm or energize horses, ease pain, prevent colic, or treat any number of issues. Horses may receive any number of visits from such varied services as equine massage therapists, equine physical therapists, equine chiropractors, equine spirit mediums, animal communicators, and so on. The scientific basis for these professionals ranges from well supported to lacking support, but such services remain popular regardless.

^ No matter what the profession with horses ends up being, just about everyone starts here: mucking out the stalls.

This post will end here, but keep an eye for the extended cut with the English and Western specific professions!

[ineffectualdemon]

Weird dream highlights from last night

1. Being obsessed with a trilogy of books written in the 1920s about two brothers that does not exist

2. Artificially inseminating Demon Horses/Kelpies

[eggedbellies]

Okokok but an artificial insemination machine that works by essentially having a giant gravity powered funnel drip cum down a tube into the stretched open cunt of a person strapped down underneath. Maybe it's used as a punishment for a crime. The funnel is filled with cum from whatever creatures the jailors can get their hands on. Dog, horse, bull, pig and so on. Maybe it's in public so everyone can watch it slowly drip into you. People could place bets as to which kind of semen is going to be the one to knock you up. It being in public anyone could just walk up the platform the funnels on and add their own cum into it. There are lines around the block of people waiting their turn to add theirs. We'd all cheer when the first of the cum in the translucent tube enters your pussy. Who knows what kind of swimmers are going to be the one to fertilize your eggs huh? Quite a few people put down money betting on one creatures sperm or another.

The downward angle makes you dizzy and confused. There's no way for anything to go anywhere than in; and if it backs into the tube, well, it's only a matter of time before you begin to stretch and it begins to drip in, your belly swelling steadily, mind just a blind buzz as you're moaning and whimpering at the feeling of growing unstoppably, the hot and thick pour of cum never seeming to end...

[sirowsky-stories]

Sirowsky's Masterlist

The Lonely Castle - Complete (100 000+ words) Follows canon but takes place after the movie. Pero & original female character Ember/Snow, no reader insert. Slow burn romance, idiots in love, fantasy. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

Driving Mr. Tovar - Complete (370 000+ words) Modern AU. Pero & female reader. Slow burn romance, hint of soulmates, magic. (Horses are significant characters in this story.) Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Stranger in the Bar - Complete (169 000+ words) Modern AU. Pero & Female Reader. Thriller/Romance. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

Collision - Complete (55 000+ words) Modern AU. Pero & Original Female Character Nikita. Friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity. Thriller/Romance. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Lost Island - Complete (112 000+ words) Follows canon but takes place after the movie. Marcus & female reader. Enemies to lovers, fantasy, supernatural powers. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Flowers Always Know - Complete, but currently undergoing an update. (148 000+ words) Follows canon but takes place after the movie. Marcus & female reader. Slow burn romance, fantasy, supernatural powers. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Legend of Mar'Sol - Complete (15 000+ words) Follows canon, takes place after the events of chapter 16. Mando & original female character Mesh'la, no reader insert. Slow burn romance, slavetrade, forced submissive behaviour, the force. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Last Demon - Complete (70 000 words) AU that takes place around the time between Chapter 16 of The Mandalorian, and Din's appearance in TBOBF. Din & female reader/monster. Violent content, 18+ONLY.

The Old Prince - Complete (81 000+ words) AU, Halloween themed fantasy/horror/romance story. Monster Oberyn Martell & Female reader, reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast. Horror themes/explicit content, 18+ONLY.

Din Djarin

The Stories We Tell Ourselves (1872 words) Grogu's Gift (1900 words) A Little Menace (2080 words) --Part 2 (2518 words) --Part 3 (2240 words) --Part 4 (2120 words) --Part 5 (2130 words) Surviving Christmas (6500 words) Trouble (150 words)

Marcus Pike

The Bad Day (1525 words) The Birthday Hike (658 words) Monday (500 words) Wrong Way Home (18,280 words) The Secret Lake (3630 words)

Pero Tovar

Christmas Special (8060 words) --Part 2 (8090 words) A Safe Place (3250 words) Loneliness (3921 words) Fearful Heart (1900 words) Clumsy Heart (3352 words) --Part 2 (2910 words) Date or Inseminate (1240 words)

Various Others

An Unexpected Valentine - Marcus Moreno 2838 words

Kittycat - Dieter Bravo 1140 words Attention - Javier Gutierrez 1500 words Forgiven - Din Djarin 666 words Surprise - Pero Tovar 575 words Bad Guy - Javier Pena 570 words Don't Die - Din Djarin 1500 words

-Main Page-

Neighbors - Joel Miller 920 words Acts of Kindness - Din Djarin 1450 words Anger Management - Pero Tovar 1200 words The Well (poem) 138 words Lost and Found - Joel Miller 1630 words Moving On - Pero Tovar (DMTU) 960 words Reunion - Marcus Pike 732 words Daring to Dream - Marcus Moreno 2850 words An Imagined Adventure (poem) 82 words

Masterlist

Like Father, Like Son - Dieter Bravo 650 words All Hallows Quarrel - Marcus Moreno 825 words The Haunted Toaster - Javier Gutierrez 660 words Grumpy Pumpkin - Pero Tovar 750 words Temple of Love - Pero Tovar 1570 words Recovery - Marcus Moreno 680 words

Birthday Cake Writing Challenge of 2022

River Poem 444 words Hold On - Pero Tovar (DMTU) 850 words Treat Me Right - Javier Gutierrez 3225 Words Warmth 320 words Grogu's Gift - Din Djarin 1900 words Whiskey Nights - Jack Daniels 825 words Their Poem 240 words Danger Close - Javier Peña 1374 words Fearful Heart - Pero Tovar 1900 words Max's Monster - Max Lord 3280 words The Day - Francisco Morales 8500 words --------------------------------------------

Birthday Cake Writing Challenge of 2023

Meeting Expectations - Jack Daniels 580 words Judgement - Marcus Moreno 2210 words -Part 2 3100 words Turning Corners - Javier Gutierrez 2775 words Dreamt You Were Here - Din Djarin 1485 words I Came By - Dave York 1160 words The Beauty of Mechanics - Francisco Morales 1500 words --------------------------------------------

[isaksbestpillow]

confused after reading hevosen silittäminen toimii terapiana (petting a horse acts as therapy) as hevosen siittäminen toimii terapiana (inseminating a horse acts as therapy), what is language

[cordeliacordate]

the horses

cowboy like me by cordeliacordate

CLM MASTERPOSTS the horses: part one | part two

Stark Ranch

BARN NAME: Blaze OWNER: Stark Ranch RIDER: Rickon Stark AGE & HEIGHT: 21 years | 14.2 hands COAT & GENDER: chestnut gelding BREED: unregistered quarter horse PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: Rickon’s bombproof kids’ horse

BARN NAME: Dottie REGISTERED NAME: Starks Bastard Daughter OWNER: Stark Ranch HEIGHT: 16.0 hands COAT & GENDER: bay mare BREED: Rhonyar Warmblood BREEDER: Stark Ranch SIRE: MTL Sunrise Dawn (Martell) DAM: Bastards Daughter PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: three-day eventing

BARN NAME: Bruno REGISTERED NAME: Starks Top Dawg OWNER: Stark Ranch RIDER: Sara Stark HEIGHT: 16.3 hands COAT & GENDER: red chestnut gelding BREED: Rhoynar Warmblood PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: three day eventing INFO: Bruno's ear is scrungly even though it doesn't show it here :)

BARN NAME: Al REGISTERED NAME: MDY Al Pacino OWNER: Stark Ranch RIDER: Sara Stark HEIGHT: 16.1 hands COAT & GENDER: bay mare BREED: Warmblood PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: three day eventing

HRH Targaryen Equestrians

A registered prefix, like HRH, is a unique way for a bloodline and/or a stable to be recognized in the very name of a horse. It's a sign of prestige and ownership.

Horses born downline from a heritage horse that remain at the Red Keep will include a secondary name (e.g. HRH Prince Caraxes.) It is not uncommon for people to pay large sums of money to be able to lease, buy, breed their own mounts to (if approved), and/or compete on these horses under the HRHTE umbrella.

A heritage horse will only have one name following HRH (e.g. HRH Vermax.)

All non-heritage horses in the Red Keep legally belong to HRH Targaryen Equestrians, including Onyx and Skiffy, although the original heritage horse's owner/rider will be given a percentage of ownership that is nontransferable upon death (e.g. HRH Seasmoke Skiff is owned by both Laenor and HRHTE.) Non-heritage horses are ridden at the approval of management, even by family members. In most cases, it means HRHTE decides when you ride, what horse you ride, how, where, and when you compete.

BARN NAME: Caraxes REGISTERED NAME: HRH Caraxes OWNER: Daemon Targaryen RIDER: Daemon Targaryen HEIGHT: 16.3 hands GENDER: red chestnut stallion BREED: Valyrian Warmblood BREEDER: HRH Targaryen Equestrians SIRE: HRH Spring Prince PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: show jumping

BARN NAME: Sissy REGISTERED NAME: HRH Dark Sister Caraxes OWNER: HRH Targaryen Equestrians, Daemon Targaryen RIDERS: multiple, including Jacaerys HEIGHT: 16.3 hands COAT & GENDER: seal brown mare BREED: Valyrian Warmblood BREEDER: HRH Targaryen Equestrians SIRE: HRH Caraxes PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: show jumping

BARN NAME: Prince REGISTERED NAME: HRH Prince Caraxes OWNER: HRH Targaryen Equestrians, Daemon Targaryen RIDER: multiple, including Baela Targaryen HEIGHT: 16.2 hands COAT & GENDER: bay stallion BREED: Valyrian Warmblood BREEDER: HRH Targaryen Equestrians SIRE: HRH Caraxes PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: show jumping

Other

BARN NAME: Bally REGISTERED NAME: Balerions Ballerina OWNER: Aria Sport Horses RIDER: Natalia Aria HEIGHT: 16.2 hands COAT & GENDER: black mare BREED: Valyrian Warmblood BREEDER: HRH Targaryen Equestrians SIRE: HRH Balerion DAM: Dancing Reach PRIMARY DISCIPLINE: dressage INFO: artificial insemination breeding

NOTE: some information has been omitted because of spoilers or lack of relevancy ☆ thank you (again) to @heliophytes for all of his help and support <3

[thiswasinevitableid]

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.

[puppetqueer]

I totally agree with the other anon bringing up animals, humanity already does a bunch of shit that animals don't consent to (think farm animals, artificial insemination, touching erogenous zones, etc.) If we are to respect an animal's consent for sex, we would make extreme changes to everything else we disrespect them for.

-Different new anon (not really - a mutual who's not gettin into contact discourse on the blog for personal reasons but feels compelled to say)

HOLY SHIT ANON THANK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THIS BANGER RHETORICAL POINT I ALWAYS FORGET ABT LOL

"ANIMALS CANNOT CONSENT EVER!!!!!" do u know how they get the horse to give them the baby horse making fluid. Quickly.

i dont think ppl actually care about whether or not animals have the ability to consent. or their rights as beings.

if it's for the sake of cold, calculated, scientific animal exploitation it's legal and necessary but a guy wants to kiss his dog bc he loves her and ppl act like he's the actual antichrist like? 😭

non human animals arent your scapegoat (lol) to accuse people of being rapists when 9/10 people dont actually care about animals as an oppressed group of beings on this planet

theres nothing inherently evil, more "violent", or disgusting about sexual attractions and yet as soon as someone has one all of their actions are tainted. it sucks massive balls lol