#⋆ — non writing related

[nocofamilyau]

not related to noco at all but what is katie and sadie’s relationship like now?

pretty good all things considered! while they're both married to two sweet guys and have separate families (none of their kids are other td characters, unfortunately...) they're still really close, and still live next to each other at that same beach town they grew up in, now both running that successful 80s themed ice cream business they've been dreaming of! its safe to say they probably suffered the least on Total Drama, only leaving with a couple of minor scars, good god were they lucky..

[kanene-yaaay]

He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out. 

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second. 

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?  

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing. 

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory. 

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away. 

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well. 

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation. 

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction. 

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon. 

“Eek! Wait, wait!” 

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh. 

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve. 

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug? 

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever? 

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality. 

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way. 

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly. 

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react. 

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand. 

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down. 

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch. 

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

[m1d-45]

GASP I had another idea. What if, since Xiao now knows who the real Creator is, he prays the them and not the faker on the throne? And when he next visits the creator as a bird, they are excitedly showing him a new bit of power they suddenly got, not knowing that it was his own faith that restored a bit of their glory??? -sibling anon, who is just vibing with this idea like it's a rubix cube

combined this ask w your other one, and sorry this is kinda late/reads weird. been busy and i am tired 👍

word count: 723

xiao knows the one on the throne isn’t his god, and his curiosity about you has turned into conviction.

you’re his creator. you have to be.

you’re soft where they’re harsh, you gently pet his feathers where they snap out orders. he knows he’s only one against many, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance and giving you the worship and praise you deserve, but… he tries.

he’s forfeited all but basic politeness to the fraud, limiting his interactions with them and instead spending his time with you. he spends more time in his bird form than human, at this point, curled into your side as you wander liyue. he takes patrols where you are to keep the others away from you, always ‘just missing’ wherever you are. sometimes he brings you things in return for your eternal kindness, hiding things as a human to lead you to them as a bird.

your bird. your little songbird, perched on your finger as you flip over the coin of mora he brought you with a smile. perhaps he should be ashamed, that an adeptus such as him is reduced to eating from another’s palm, but he’s not. not when it’s you. not when he finds your image the one in his mind when he’s in danger, not when he finds himself defending liyue in your name, not when he makes offerings to you instead of the fraud.

your little bird, your xiao. he knows he can’t do enough on his own, he knows that his small acts of protection aren’t nearly what you deserve, but…

as he flies across liyue, a coin of mora clutched in his claws, he hopes that it will help you in places he can’t.

he lets out a call when he spots you walking between the trees, tucking into a dive. you turn, the same smile on your face as every time that you see him, and he lands in your hand, the coolness of the coin contrasting with the warmth from your hand.

“little friend! welcome back, pretty bird.”

he chirps back at you, settling in the curve of your hand as you pick up the coin he brought you. however, instead of telling him about your day, or continuing on your walk, you reached for the branch of a nearby berry bush—thankfully, one that was edible, though you didn’t go for the fully grown ones instead, you pulled off a small part of a branch with a flowering bud on it.

“look, i learned how to do something new today!”

he chirped, moving closer to your wrist to watch your actions. you held the branch between two of your fingers and carefully brushed over the flower, something green sparking under the pad of your thumb. as he watched, the small bud bloomed, a bright red berry sprouting at impossible speeds.

something like a yelp left him in surprise, his wings puffing up as he tried to make sense of it, and your attention quickly shifted from the branch.

you moved him up and cooed nothing at him, unaware of how far xiao’s mind was from the situation.

you had made the plant bloom. dendro had answered your call, when he knew for certain that nothing had bent to your will when he’d first found you.

he knew being near you was calming—it was why you were constantly surrounded by birds and butterflies, it was how he was clued in to your divinity, at first. the way his karma seemed to settle and fade- even now, his shock washing away under your touch over his wings.

something featherlight pressed to the top of his head and he blinked himself from his thoughts, looking up to see you pulling away.

you don’t say a word, carefully plucking the berry from its stem with one hand. in your other, xiao is frozen again, this time for an entirely different reason. his forehead is alight, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the problem of your blossoming godhood pushed aside and buried.

you put the fresh berry in your other hand, in front of xiao, and he dipped his head to nip at it.

blessed is he who partakes in the divine.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Hey would you like to read a seperated AU where Mikey was Raised by Draxum

[puts my hand on your shoulder]

brother it ain't about what you think I'd like to read, it's always about what you wanna write

[uncanny-tranny]

I know this is a very unoriginal observation (much like any other), but I'm finally reading The Great Gatsby, and even I wouldn't describe men the way Nick does.

[crowbird]

I'm so tired of age gap fics please if i can suspend my disbelief about mushroom zombies I can suspend my disbelief about the reader's age not being equivalent to my own, please just give me two 50(+) year old bastards falling in love no more of this 15+ year age gap I swear to god someone is gonna make me start writing last of us fanfiction at this rate.

Anyways, I would like to request some aid from the last of us fandom in terms of fic recs if anyone knows any good reader insert or x reader fics wherein they and joel are around the same age? Pre or post outbreak, au, I don't care I'm starving please if anyone has any let me know.

EDIT: I did not think this was going to get any traction which in hindsight was kinda stupid of me but I really want to clarify something since I originally left it in the tags which I probably shouldn't have. THIS ISNT A HIT PEICE. I've been a fanfic writer for years now even if this blog isn't exactly a great example of my supposed stellar writing consistency. I mean no hate towards the people who like age gap or write it it just isn't my thing personally and I would like to read fics that explore other topics besides that when it comes to this fandom. Yes I understand the easy solution is to write my own and i would be a liar to say I wasn't but I'm new to this fandom and still consuming the actual content and I know my drafts aren't exactly great right now in part because of that. What I wanted to accomplish here wasn't just to complain a little but to reach out and ask if anyone could point me in the direction of non age gap fics in the mean time and they did so thank you very much!! I genuinely appreciate it. Write what you like but understand that I also reserve the right to read what I like and to ask for help in finding it because let's be honest tumblrs search and filter system is non existent and asking for help was my next best bet so uh yeah I'm gonna stop rambling now and refine this maybe when I'm more awake and can word things better probably.

[iwatcheditbegin]

Okay so I’m just curious the most cringe Taylor related thing you’ve done?

[n2-crisis]

For no particular reason, how much Superman crying in a Superbat fic is too much? I have no ulterior motives for asking this question Superman is totally fine

[writeouswriter]

I don't "write" my characters into "plots," I merely toss em into situations like a piece of meat into the lion's pit

[hashipebbles]

They are like two silly little cats,,,

[hedgehog-moss]

"Halloween didn't used to exist in France" girl, you keep llamas.

[randomwriteronline]

"I, just to be clear - how long do you gestate?"

Matau looked at the nurse like xe'd just threatened to blow his kneecaps off, Vakama stumbled over his feet and nearly fell onto his face while he was pacing, and Nuju remained perfectly still as though that could have kept xem from seeing him.

Whenua sneakily reached out to the half scribbled notebook left on a nearby table: "What would be a normal period, in your opinion?" he asked out of genuine curiosity.

Nokama smacked his hand right off it hard enough to make him yelp while hissing under her breath at him to stop.

Alright, Netum reasoned as xe cringed a little at their bickering, maybe xe should have realized that their species did not reproduce like this normally considering their immediate reactions had been a little bit excessive even for someone experiencing their first time at this stressful rodeo.

Not wanting to be left out, from the other room Onewa shouted something that sounded like garbled static from a computer experiencing incomprehensible amounts of anguish.

His fellow Turaga winced.

Whenua reached for his notebook again, and this time got it slapped away by Matau.

(Nobody had any clue where he'd even found that, nor the pen stuffed into it. At some point, while his brother of Stone had been laid face up on the medical cot while gurgling in incredible pain, he'd just materialized right next to the obstetrician with it already in hand, looking intently alongside the nurses and doctors like he had any business being there between Onewa's legs, asking questions and scribbling down observations.)

(Vakama had eventually torn his eyes off of the pained Turaga long enough to notice what the former archivist was doing and had proceeded to give him the most furiously dumbfounded look he could muster, screaming above the racket: "A SMALL BEING IS TRYING TO CRAWL OUT OF ONEWA AND YOU'RE TAKING NOTES?!")

(To which is Earth brother had replied, "Of course I am! This is unprecedented, we might never get a chance of collecting this knowledge ever again! My academic colleagues surely understand the importance of my doing!")

(Such words had then been immediately followed by him being violently yanked away from his position and having his shoulders shaken so hard by Nuju's telekinesis that he thought his neck was going to dislocate, all while Nokama replied eloquently to his assumption with a simple yet very effective "ARE YOU INSANE".)

(All five were then promptly escorted out.)

"Let's try another question," Netum decided, "Do you have an idea when the conception might have taken place?"

"Oh, the last knowing mating?" Whenua piped up.

Nuju gave a horrendous shrieking squawk that lasted quite a few seconds, the meaning of which was universally understood to be Don't Fucking Call It That.

The nurse sighed, already regretting xer life choices: "Depends. Are you sexually active?"

"No," Vakama sputtered, "We are- we don't - our species does not- we, the Matoran come from assembly lines. We are built from machines. We don't - we're, we don't have anything. Or any... No, the short answer is no."

"Rahi are!"

"WHENUA."

"Sorry sister."

"But yes, no. I mean--"

Netum stopped him. Xer face was contorted by the grimace of someone watching their parents trying to climb up mirrors in an attempt at explaining in a sane and innocuous manner what the equipment in the case in the back of the closet is for: "I got it. So, either he-"

"Roughly one thousand years ago."

Xe turned to Matau.

"What?" xe asked.

He shuffled in his shawl, looking more than a little embarrassed: "Roughly one thousand years ago would be the, er, periodtime of beingmaking. There were... Everspecial conditions, that, uh, allowed us- him, to, er... Uhm... Uh..."

A suspicion struck xem.

Xer eyes carefully moved onto the other Turaga, observing their reactions to their Air brother's words: they seemed to suddenly find the walls, furniture, pavement and insides of their palms to be subjects of incredible interest, each drowning in their own vats of mortification at quickly increasing speeds while Matau kept on stammering in an attempt to explain the situation without having to admit even more that he'd unfortunately let on.

Huh.

Well.

There had been weirder paternity cases. Probably.

But one thousand years!

What was the longest xe'd ever heard of? A year and a half? Two years?

One whole thousand years.

Wow.

"Congrats to all of you," xe just said, because what else was there to even say.

They tried to disappear into themselves harder.

Vakama actually did, turning completely invisible before curling in shame on the floor, which Netum only discovered when he began rolling around knocking into chairs and the such like a ball inside of the world's slowest and most incredibly embarrassed pinball.

The door opened and slammed close so quickly that xe barely even registered the sound; when xe turned, a fellow nurse treated xem to a look with eyes the size of a pair of thornax.

She looked about to bust a capillary.

"Get in," she ordered, sounding a little hoarse.

Netum raised a thumb at her, faced the deeply mortified beings again, dryly left them with a: "Enjoy yourselves," and swiftly snuck back into the room in which Oewa still shouted bloody murder to all that existed before the Great Spirit Robot rusting miserably on the receding dunes of Spherus Magna.

The Turaga listened to five more of his anguished yells before Whenua began petting the air to find Vakama and hold him still so that he would stop bumping into everybody's legs.

"Should we speaktalk to the Hagah?" Matau proposed.

Nuju growled, shrieked, slashed at the sky and chittered furiously for about two entire minutes.

With her Rau dimmed after hearing only roughly a quarter of all that, Nokama let out the most tired sigh in her repertoire and sagged a little: "Depends on how much we value Kualus's survival."

-

They did not, in the end, have the time to contact the Toa Hagah, because before they could figure out a way to breach the subject to them and ask why exactly they had allowed them to get up to deeply unusual shenanigans while in their very unstable conditions as Hordika, their Stone brother's screaming finally quelled and they were allowed to see him again - under the conditions that they were to keep as calm as they could, since the patient had just undergone an incredibly stressful delivery, and that Whenua would not start asking questions pertaining anything that had happened in the five Turaga's absence for the entirety of his permanence lest he wanted to be promptly shoved back out.

He looked like he would have rather died, but he soldiered through it.

Especially because Onewa looked even worse.

A whole thousand years will teach you a few things about the people who destiny has assigned to be your siblings, for better or for worse, and usually against your will; and so they all had become intimately familiar with the tells of one another's moods, especially in specific situations such as, say, recovering from something, sickness or injury that it might be.

Onewa laid on the cot not limp, but stiff in a manner that had nothing to do with his usual posture. His eyes were shut, his breathing struggling to deepen, and his arms shivered weakly, as though he didn't even have the strength to tremble.

The five of them were on him in an instant, reaching out to touch him and try lending some comfort like that, ready to be shoved away if needed be. He welcomed them as best as he could, searching for them blindly, curling his fingers around their hands, testing the protodermis with his digits to tell them apart from the type of calluses plaguing the palms.

"F'respitt'r," he hissed at last - though his exhausted voice was laced with relief. "I'm fr'zin' - think y' could do som'thin' 'bout that?"

"Ah, I wish," Vakama replied, rubbing his hands around the tan forearm to warm it up a little, "But you know my powers aren't what they used to be."

"T'p'cal T'-T'raga, all sm'ke and no s'bst'nce..."

That made them chuckle while Nokama took the blanket Nuju had fetched with his telekinesis and laid it over their Stone brother, murmuring with the voice of a gentle brook: "There, that should be a bit better."

Onewa sighed: "Tha's why y'r my fav'rit', sist'r..."

"Oh? You desert your dirt brother like that?" she laughed.

"He ain' help'n' much, is he?"

"Excuse you-" Whenua mumbled; Nuju intercepted with a quiet chirping, clicking a few times for good measure, to ask how he felt.

It took a moment for the answer to be sighed back: "Bad. T'red."

"We're sorry, stonebrother. For, uh-"

A hand very gently smacked Matau on the mouth, not letting him continue: "Don't," the bedridden Turaga rasped in a monotone plea. He patted the other's mask a few more times to drive the point home. "Don't. I don' wanna think 'bout any of that righ' now. F'rev'r, p'ss'bly."

The silence between them unanimously agreed with his sentiment.

Netum found them cuddled up together and speaking hushedly in their strange whirring dialect when xe came back with Parca to deliver the news.

She coughed gently to divert their attention onto her.

Their brilliant eyes spooked the obstetrician slightly when they sat on her, but she pushed through her momentary discomfort with a wobbly smile: "Ehm! I, er, I'm glad to say that, well, from what we could parse - you know, different species and all - five of the sextuplets are perfectly fine and healthy."

The way they tilted their heads in unison was also a little eerie.

"The what?" Onewa croaked, honestly confused.

"The... The sextuplets. Your six little ones."

He seemed to process her words slowly: "As in, six indipendent beings?" he asked.

She nodded, now also confused.

If metal could have paled, the five surrounding the bed would probably have been see-through by now. The red one looked about to faint, too. Must have been the father.

(Although she had the sneaking suspicion, mentally comparing the colors of the six little creatures she'd just helped meet the light of day for the first time to those of the metal and flesh humanoids before her, that this had been a joint effort and he was just the most fragile link of whatever one could call the thing these six had going on with each other, because polycule didn't really seem to be the correct term in this case.)

The Stone Turaga gave a wheeze.

"No wonder that was so hard," he noted as he sank a little into the cot much more calmly than she would have expected considering he hadn't even been aware of the fact he'd been carrying in the first place, "Six whole beings... I thought it was just the pieces of one!"

Parca thought she was undergoing a stroke of sorts.

What.

What did that mean?

What the hell did that mean?

Netum had the kindness of pulling her aside and whispering helpfully in her ear: "Usually they're made in an assembly line."

"Oh," she whispered back.

Well. Sure, yes, that did explain it. Didn't make it any less insane, but at least the context showed there was some sort of logic to the madness now.

"Er, one of them is a little, ehm, a little different from their siblings," she continued, picking up from where her previous line of thought had stopped, "But we can't exactly tell if something is wrong, you know, medically, or if they're simply... Ahem... Built like that, and there is nothing to worry about. So, uh, would you..."

"What?"

"Would you like to see them?"

"Of course I do!" the Turaga waved, seeming annoyed, as though he had much to do and her needless talking was wasting precious minutes: "I went through the pains of Karzhani to get them out, I sure hope I can at least have a look at what all that pushing was for..."

"They're six?" the green one repeated faintly at that point - evidently having needed a little more time to process that bombshell of an information.

The black one piped up excitedly as though he hadn't been on the verge of keeling over himself seconds ago: "That's fairly common!" he said cheerfully, "Several species of Rahi tend to have litters in order to prevent exti-"

At least five hands piled over his mouth to shut him up, and Netum took that as xer cue to drag Parca away from that bucket of insanity for a minute or two.

They returned to a semblance of calm and a mostly disgruntled Whenua - the other Turaga weren't giving him looks of any sort, but from his demure behaviour one could assume they had chewed him out or at least managed to convince him to hold his excitement for another day. His pale eyes perked up still like those of his destiny-assigned siblings when the nurses approached to start carefully handing out the little ones.

They had expected... Well, it was hard to say. Had the six of them been Agori or Glatorian, Parca would have imagined a certain degree of awe, of starstruck wonder, gentle hands reaching out to catch their children in a careful embrace, or perhaps the strange apathetic curiosity that often struck alongside the beginnings of postpartum depression; Netum, having spent too much amidst the Skrall for xer liking due to xer Stone heritage, had learned to add to xer expectations a cold analysis, a check for any deformities that would make for anything less than a warrior - and in the case they were not found, then a thorough and thought through planning in preparation for marshal training.

The Turaga did none of that: they simply observed, captivated, dumbfounded, barely daring to lay a single finger on the little creatures slowly placed on Onewa's lap.

They were curled up on themselves like Mahi goats trying to keep warm on cold desert nights despite not showing any discomfort towards the current lukewarm temperature, with their heads swaying every now and then left or right, eyes shut, fists balled up tight just below their chests, not uttering a single peep or cry or babble. The muscles peeking from their tiny frames were a cold pinkish color, not yet the worn copper of a Toa or the much more common dull purplish tint their species knew, while their crystal-like brains had yet to paint themselves in any way. They wriggled their spines in a clumsy manner as though they were attempting to crawl on the thin armor of their backs - armor covered in faint hues reminiscent of watercolors, with plates much more flexible that those of a Turaga or Matoran. Above their little hands their chests rose and fell quickly against their pulsing lungs, and their heartlights flickered gently if a little fast, only ever becoming dim but never turning off completely; their identical faces lacked the deep dents in which masks were meant to slot, but the shallower lines digging into the protodermis of their skulls seemed to imply that the time for a Kanohi to be bestowed to them would simply come later, and for now they were in no danger of falling comatose.

Nuju reached out at last, as carefully as possible.

The light pressure of his digit against one of the little one's head made them squirm and stretch towards his hand in an attempt at nestling into it.

"Is that all?" Nokama asked, baffled.

"There's one more," Parca replied, "They'll be brought here in a moment."

"No, no, I meant..."

"I deepthink she was trying to asksay, are they whole?" Matau explained: "Are they... Complete? They're not losemissing any parts?"

The obstetrician blinked twice: "Er - yes? Yes, they're... Whole."

"But they are so small," Vakama muttered, gently poking a closed fist that quickly caught his finger. He sounded almost distraught.

"Babies tend to be," Netum chimed in. "Otherwise birth would be even harder than it already is."

Onewa said nothing, only looking at the five beings on the cot.

He hovered his hand above them without touching them, as though they'd been made of glass. He settled eventually on the leg of one of them with a feather-light touch, causing them to kick briefly at nothing before calming as they decided the feeling was not unpleasant after all.

How utterly strange.

The sound of creaking cries distracted the Turaga from their contemplation: Parca had reappeared - when had she even left? - with a little squirming thing struggling to escape her solid embrace.

"And here's the problem child," she announced quietly, handing them over directly to the Turaga of Stone as she did not trust the little one not to smack one of their siblings in the head in their agitated indignation at being carried around like some sort of dreadfully unfashionable purse.

It really wasn't hard to understand what she'd meant about this one being different. The infant being immediately came off as scrawnier, with thinner limbs and hands waving messily like little claws trying to play with yarn; the legs seemed a little arched and the neck very flexible, maybe too much. The face followed the shape of their siblings', that it did, but something in the way it moved felt off - as did the perfectly calm heartlight despite their erratic movement. They were chatty as well, squeaking and squealing angrily much like Nuju would under his breath, and their brain seemed much more opaque than it should have been; their armor as well seemed to resemble more matte hues than any brilliant ones, appearing to be a much darker grey than that of even their Earth sibling.

They thrashed and rolled in Onewa's arms for a little in a daring escape attempt that ended up going nowhere. With a frustrated huff they opened up their eyes: wide irises of an oily black stared up at the Turaga's blue ones, and the sight seemed to awe them so much that at last they settled down.

Then their eyes turned blue.

It was a murky imitation of the color, but it was so surprising that all present couldn't help but jolt a little upon seeing that. And they kept watching intently as an uncoordinated shiver struck the little thing and began blooming patches of tan and brown upon their body as it adjusted its proportions in tow, in a clumsy imperfect mirror of the Turaga's own colors and build.

Netum quickly glanced at the other five.

Upon determining that no, none of them seemed able to do that, xe muttered: "Huh. That's not normal."

Parca did not add onto that because she was busy running checks on herself to see if she was experiencing an ictus.

The only one who visibly lit up at the incomprehensible sight before them was, of course, Whenua: "Oh no, it is normal! That's a krahka," he reassured his stunned audience as he moved a little closer to tickle the little being, who turned and gave his digit a mellow bite as their teeth would grow out only in a few minutes: "It was heavily speculated that juvenile specimens would have a harder time shapeshifting at first, since they would have yet to establish proper control over their own abilities! Evidently they're a slightly parasitic species too, able to reproduce with other Rahi and adapt to the carrier's own appearance during gestation - clumsily of course, but still! It's not that surprising, thinking about it now, but it does showcase the extent of Roodaka's terrible power considering that she managed to make sure they're all but extinct even despite them not needing to mate with one another to ensure the survival of their species, which in theory should greatly reduce the problem..."

He shook his fingers, lightly bapping the little one's nose: they hung their little maws open to bite down again, but their slow reflexes were eluded by the quick movements.

The words floated giddily across the room for about half a minute.

They then fell into their heads like a ton of lead.

"Wait," Whenua realized softly, "That's a krahka."

Five pairs of eyes shifted onto the only Komau present: Onewa had already hidden it away behind his palm.

Deciding this was beyond what they were paid to do, Parca forcibly removed herself and Netum from whatever brand new paternity drama had been unlocked.

Nuju's voice, croaked from disuse and ages spent speaking only the language of birds, reached out in a dangerously indescribable tone: "Onewa--"

"SHUT."

Not a word followed.

The little beast squeaked loudly a few times, changing colors and shape as they took in the rest of their step-parents and sniffing their still perfectly peaceful half-siblings curiously.

At last, the Turaga of Stone lowered his palm to his mouth, treating the wall across him to a murderous glare.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class?" Nokama carefully nudged him.

"I'm going to kill Pouks," he just growled.

-

The shrieks had already caused a few concerned members of medical personel and even patients to attempt entering the room in order to remove the raving bloodthirsty swan clearly carrying out a massacre from within it, but thankfully none succeeded in opening even just slightly the door, which remained blocked off thanks to Bomonga's body - turned as enormous as possible without collapsing the building in order to give Kualus somewhere high enough to climb to in order to escape from Nuju's undying rage. This meant that the Toa Hagah of Earth was left at the mercy of the squawking Turaga's ice pick, and considering his increasingly pained expression and the deepening dents on his armor he was probably going to succumb sooner than either he or his Ice brother would have liked.

That being said, he was having it easier than the rest of his siblings.

Gaaki shrunk in her shoulders, desperately trying to hide behind her Stone brother as she babbled: "We couldn't have know this would have happened-"

"The problem is not that you couldn't know, it's that you let it happen!" Vakama interrupted her rightfully angry: "We were vulnerable and unstable! You were the ones who decided to keep an eye on us so we wouldn't lose ourselves for that exact same reason! And then when we engaged in whatever tomfoolery the Hordika venom wanted you just watched us go at it!"

"We did NOT watch!" Iruini was quick to shriek as he peeked from behind his sister. He even raised a horrified finger to the sky as if to swear on the Great Beings. "We very much did not stick around to get a good look at your snuggle pile! The noise was disgusting enough!"

Matau reached out a hand to Whenua, who readily handed him his staff: "You still didn't stop us!!" he hollered, and threw the weapon directly at his Le-brother's forehead.

The impact produced a sonorous 'bonk' and a strangled yelp.

Before the Air Turaga could be supplied with more sticks to throw at their heads or, worse, turn to the medical tools in the room for ammunition, Norik raised his hands either in surrender or in an attempt at soothing the six beings like they were large lizards.

"I - please, listen," he begged them, a tinge of genuine fear in his voice: "Your unity was dwindling, it was getting harder and harder to convince you to stick together despite our best attempts - and, well, we knew from our years observing Rahi that such a, ah, unorthodox activity could significantly help easing stress and deepening the bonds within a community, so we sort of figured it would have been much more beneficial to let you ride it out on your own than to intervene to stop you..."

Nokama's shrill voice made him activate his Pehkui by reflex and shrink to the size of a cricket: "It didn't strike you for one second that perhaps Onewa might have minded being the bonding activity?!"

Speaking of him, the Turaga of Stone had been eerily quiet during the whole argument. He had sat virtually immoble on the cot while his little ones tentatively crawled a little closer to him to escape the annoying yelling, not even bothering to open their eyes or vocalize at all as he picked them up to place them under the worn blanket draped over both his middle and his long legs so that the fabric could muffle the voice; his blue eyes had been sternly fixed on the Po-Toa, who was starting to get massively creeped out by the unblinking stare never leaving him for a second.

When the others' yelling subsided - so, when Nuju interrupted his onslaught of avian injuries to catch his breath - all he did was merely lift a hand in front of himself.

Wrapped around it, the anomaly of the litter watched the Hagah curiously and chirped a croak at them while trying to shift into them.

The Toa briefly forgot their shame to stare at it.

"Is that a krahka," Bomonga finally spoke, too baffled to keep silent.

Ah, Pouks thought: He is going to kill me.

"This is your fault," Onewa grimly sentenced.

Yeah.

He was dead.

Kualus turned to his Po-brother with eyes the size of a knowledge tower: "What?" he yelped, though it came out more like a caw. "What?? Pouks?? What?!"

"Look--"

"What does that mean??"

"Brother, did you-"

"How does that even work, a Rahaga and--?"

"Alright, this is too weird-"

"How the--"

The thunderous clap of Pouks' hands hushed his slowly increasingly horrified siblings' chatter enough for him to recollect his thoughts.

He took a big, deep breath, trying not to let the Turaga's vitriolic gaze pierce through him and make him crumble to dust, and exhaled gently before starting to speak - in a very slow, almost stilted manner, as though convinced that if he could keep the intrigue of his explanation going he would not be immediately beheaded: "She is. A critically endangered species. And - since she was our ally... And! You seemed to get along. AND. You might have been. Compatible. Seeing as you were... Exhibiting specific behaviours. Towards your peers. As well as her. I thought. Well. It wouldn't be too bad - to try a... Uhm..."

He swallowed silently.

"Go on."

The sound of Onewa's voice made his entire body want to crumple into itself and implode, and it took a considerable amount of willpower not to do that and instead complete his sentence in a strangled voice: "A conservation effort."

"Mata fucking Nui, brother," Iruini sputtered out a little too loudly before he could stop himself.

"That's a fair reason, actually," Whenua mused.

An ice pick to the knee later and he was splayed as flat as a corpse on the floor while Nuju shrieked at him something that sounded a lot like No It Is NOT, You MAHI-BRAINED Mole Of An ARCHIVIST.

Onewa did not lose his poise.

"Little one," he called; the krahka in his hand turned to him with an air of great focus, and followed his finger as it pointed straight at Pouks: "Kill!"

Not even the time to react: the tiny beast promptly jumped off of his palm in a fluid motion, bounced on the floor like a rubber ball, scared Norik into scrambling right up Bomonga's arm and into the safety of Kualus's hands before he was run over by their clumsy charge, snapped open their little maws and clamped them down right on an exposed tendon of Pouks' leg.

Had hit slapstick cartoon 'Tom and Jerry' existed in this universe, the Toa's scream would have been indiscernible from the fictional cat's.

"TEETH," he wailed out in genuine anguish, keeling over and falling onto the floor to writhe in agony as the little bastard found his torment funnier than anything and resorted to biting him even harder, "OOOH SHARP LITTLE TEETH. OH MATA NUI PRESERVE ME IT HURTS. OH HOW IT HURTS."

The Turaga turned to the rest of the Hagah: "You're next."

"They've been alive for minutes and you've conditioned them to enact violence in your stead already?!" Gaaki shrieked.

"Yes. Little one, kill!"

Her scream turned wobbly as she hastily threw herself onto her Earth brother to scale him, Iruini following suit when the bloodthirsty dangerously ankle-height beast turned their attention to him since their designated prey had already escaped to higher grounds; eyes widening in terror as the creature began to now bounce in his direction, no doubt planning on mauling one of his own easily targetable enlarged muscles, Bomonga shrank back to his regular size and slid away from the pile of his siblings that crashed gracelessly only floor, sacrificing them in favor of the integrity of his flesh - a betrayal that ended up not even being worth the attempt as the krahka had already jumped far too high and far, thus managing to find the perfect trajectory to chomp at his wrist in mid-air.

With a strangled cry he fell right back into the heap of limbs that were the Toa Hagah. And at that point all Karzhani broke lose, because the little one, overwhelmed by the noise and adrenaline and fun and with no other instruction other than 'kill', grew a few more mouth in various disjointed parts of their body and began biting the shit out of anything they laid eyes on, which unfortunately happened to be the previously mentioned Toa.

The Turaga watched the bloodshed unfold halfway between enraptured and horrified, as though they were looking at a car crash in real time.

Some kind of garbled yell in Kualus's voice begged for mercy.

"In a moment," Matau replied while lazily scratching at the little Le-one trying to wriggle out of the blanket in response to the noise, not showing any intention of moving a muscle beyond that. "I deepthink Whenua would first like to downwrite some knowledgenotes on the everinteresting foodmanners of the krahka."

His Earth brother did not agree with his statement only because he was already scribbling away.

Norik squawked a horrid sound as he tried to hurriedly unshrink himself before he got chewed up into crumpled paper that sounded very much like PLEASE THIS HURTS WORSE THAN HORDIKA POISON, though there was room for debate.

Nuju chirped back something along the lines of Get Fucked.

More anguished yelling ensued.

It would have continued for a long while, frankly, or at least until one of the healers or nurses waltzed in and forcibly pried the little carnivorous pest off of the agonizing clump of metal and fllesh, had the Turaga not been startled by a very loud excited gasp coming out of absolutely nowhere.

Suddenly standing in the room as though having materialized in it was now a confusing being, a mismatched mess of Toa and Rahi and Agori parts clearly put together without having dedicated much thought into the whole assembly, clasping her hands to her chest and grinning an enormous almost ghastly smile as she beamed at the terrible tiny beast with nothing but pure unadultered pride.

"A natural hunter!" she cried out delighted.

Onewa pointed at her immediately: "LITTLE ONE!" he shrieked, "KILL! KILL! KILL!"

The krahka's head whipped to attention in the span of a second. With an impressive bounce considering its minuscule size they leaped onto their new victim - and much to the dismay of their father ended up right on her chest as she faked falling prey to their assault, maw opened to whine breathily about her coming end and make the little one grumble out a few hyena-like cackles as the two of them played Who-Will-Bite-Whose-Face-First.

With an angered tsk, the Stone Turaga sank back into his cot and crossed his arms.

Their new guest laughed at his annoyance.

"Oh, you shut it!" he growled back at her: "The least you could do is let them maul you properly! You have no idea what I've been through to get that menace out here."

A long slithering sound accompanied the now snake-like Rahi as she snuck onto the cot and behind the disgruntled Turaga, sustaining his neck and back with a sweetness that purposefully didn't mask a certain mocking quality to the caring motion: "I don't," Krahka agreed in a gloating tone as she nuzzled his mask, "And thanks to you I never will have to!"

She giggled louder as her face was shoved away, little one wrapped around her neck giggling with her: "Well, you could have warned me this could have happened!"

"I thought you knew."

"How was I supposed to know?! I didn't even know what I was doing!"

"That's not what you said that time."

"I'm fairly certain I was beyond speech in that moment."

The Rahi hushed for a few seconds, during which her spawn fell back onto the cot and trotted again to Onewa's lap: "Yeah, you weren't exactly capable of verbal communication," she recalled at last, "But your body--"

"Please keep that to yourself," Kualus croaked from the floor, promptly getting yelled at by Nuju to shut up.

Krahka treated him to a weird look: "I meant scents and posture," she explained: "Those are other ways for Rahi to communicate. Like this little one here, you can almost smell how much they like you."

Onewa shifted his gaze to find oily blueish eyes looking very attentively at his face, the tiny spawn of Karzhani wiggling where they sat with barely contained enthusiasm. A creaking chirp rattled up their throat as they kneaded at his leg with their clumsily shifting hands resembling now hooves, now paws, now proper palms; unable to fight back, the Turaga cradled them in his palm and watched them all but melt into it.

"Aren't you terrible, little one," he muttered, trying not to sound too fond and failing completely.

They'd have to find a name for them too, wouldn't they? Ah, so much trouble they were... And besides, the creature had already gotten used to being 'little one', so what was the point.

He muttered the words to himself: little one.

Lil' one.

Lil' wan.

Lil' wa.

Lilwa.

Lilua.

Liluah.

Hm.

Liluah wasn't so bad.

Krahka's satisfied purr of agreement was so potent that not only did it rattle his entire frame, but its vibrations managed to spread out to the cot as well, finally stirring her offspring's half-siblings from their torpor and causing them to somewhat angrily peek through the blanket they'd been swarmed beneath to complain wordlessly at her in the hopes she'd keep it down.

They would also need names, he mused to himself. Those would have to be decided by the six of them together - there was no way he could come up with five more on the spot, and Nokama would probably be at least a little upset if they didn't have some kind of specific meaning, or maybe she would have like to pick some from old legends. There was no way they were accepting anything from Matau, though. Sure, any suggestion from Nuju would have to be translated from bird, Vakama probably wasn't going to be of much help, and Whenua was bound to somehow fit in some tie or other to Rahi (which, in truth, would be fairly fitting), but all of that was preferrable to ending up with a clutter of little beings walking around named after music instruments or perhaps even worse, extremely volatile vehicles.

A good Po-Matoran doesn't believe too hard in the superstition that names shape a being into their true self much like molds, preferring to leave that up to the choices and actions one makes in their lifetime; but considering their brother's fancy for fast things usually very easy to crash into walls, it didn't hurt to be cautious.

He realized he'd neglected to mention their existence to Krahka only when he looked back to the Rahi to find her staring at the five beasties with an inexplicable expression, eyes wide enough to fall out of her head, stunned beyond words.

She leaned her snout closer to one of them, sniffing them intensely and nudging the plates of the spent red armor with her nose as though trying to tickle it off.

"Those are not yours!" Vakama shouted suddenly, as if overwhelmed by a burst of protectiveness, scaring her off of the tiny creature. "They aren't krahka, they're - they're..." he sunk a little in his shoulders, resolve wavering, but it was too late already; so he coughed embarrassedly once on behalf of the other Turaga as well, and concluded with a peep: "Ours."

Krahka blinked.

She gazed at the rest of the former Toa Metru.

What came out of her throat could have been called a whimper.

It didn't take long for her to shake off her melancholy, though: "Well!" she simply chirped, "Since I've infiltrated your litter and none of you have any experience or instinct to deal with small beings such as these, I shall make it my duty to help you raise them."

"... So that they're technically also yours?" Nokama translated.

The other grinned at her like a stone rat who got into the pantry and needed not say a word.

Oh, who cared - they were definitely going to need the help, and Mata Nui knew they had no clue whatsoever what to do with... with... With whatever these could be called.

(They had a discussion on what word to use for them later on, propositions ranging from cubs to pups to fletchlings to just plain Matoran - which felt incomprehensibly wrong - until Onewa had put his foot down on calling them 'kids'. Matau and Nuju had both objected on referring to these clearly anthropomorphic beings in the same way as juvenile goats, but he'd insisted: he was the one who'd gotten them out into the world, the word didn't immediately evoke some kind of Rahi, and even then he liked Mahi goats.)

(To say he was smug when the Agori confirmed 'kid' was another way they had to refer to babies would have been an understatement.)

Better not to look a gift Ussal crab in the mouth.

"How did they happen, anyhow?" Krahka inquired. "I thought Onewa was the exception among you."

Said supposed exception swatted at her nose.

Six pairs of eyes then turned to the heap of metal that was tentatively pulling its various limbs apart and back into the shape of a team of six Toa, who instantly froze in place under the still vengeful gazes of the Turaga.

Being used to reading body language meant that the Rahi instantly got the message - a very amusing one, truth be told, considering the immense fear emanating from the Hagah.

"Liluah!" she called.

Her offspring tore their attention away from their half-siblings and moved their focus towards her.

"Kill!"

The sound of several seven-foot-tall warriors scrambling desperately to escape a creature barely larger than half of their hands was music to her and her friends' ears. Less so for the healers that had to wrangle Liluah off of the screaming Toa before they managed to chew through the protodermis, but she supposed some sacrifices had to be made for the sake of her comedic enjoyment.

[dolls-self-ships]

Dr Fry: but what if... what if you found just the right person who worshiped and adored you? Who- who would do everything for you who would be your devoted slave... then what would you do?

Melisha: I'd pity him

[bethanyactually]

if you are a person who rambles in the tags of posts you reblog

Thank you very much *・ﾟ✧

[puppygirlgirldick]

for the purposes of reading porn, i am now considering myself a trans girl who somehow has a cervix and a womb. if people can't be arsed to write smut without referencing wombs and cervixes and making specific note of somebody having both a vagina and an asshole or write shit like "all three holes" then i am just gonna get high enough to forget that i ain't got that kinda equipment.

[yuukimiyas]

nov. 13th 2023

₊˚ෆ 350 words / not beta read! / in no way, shape or form formatted correctly! / many punctuation mistakes! / i swear ik how to format normally!!

ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ a/n: hello all!! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა this came to me while i was talkin to my psychiatrist the other wk & it just wouldn't leave my mind!! ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა this is v self indulgent & v personal & i was originally gonna keep it to myself but i thought that maybe someone out there could resonate, even if it's a lil bit <33 so here's a lil poetry/prose moment :3

i am kind to the world because the world has not always been kind to me.

for i have begged for places at tables only to learn i never had solace there to begin with — assuming that my worth was equivalent to the scraps that litter the floor. i have foolishly taken the hand of societies predisposed values — blindly agreeing that being rigid is the only means of protection. i have been preached about taking my time then chastised for not keeping up — choking on the fabricated realization that the only place i’ll ever meet the requirements for is the last one. i have been told to appreciate the wonders of the world we live in — then swiftly reminded to only admire the beauty from afar for it’s fleeting and i’ve yet to prove my worth

i have been conditioned to believe i am a lot of things. but, i am not the masses.

i am so much more.

i am so sickeningly sweet that i give cavities a run for their money, i am so brilliantly luminous that even the sun itself seeps envy, i am so abundant with love and adoration that my body can’t help but burst at the seams to share it all.

and with that,

i will always leave an open seat at my table — a warm meal and good conversation at the ready for all who need to rest. i will always extend my hand with only the purest of intent — displaying proudly that soft and strong do not have to be autonomous to live in harmony with one another. i will always take time while it’s still ripe for the taking — it’s monetary value far outweighing that of a solid gold medal. i will continue to gaze at the world with fondness — the blinding beauty of it all synonymous with the delicate flame that burns deep within and glows outward.

but most important of all, out of everything i am, i was, and will eventually blossom to be.

i am kind to the world because the world has not always been kind

to me.

- c

๋࣭ ⭑ yuukimiyas © '23 / please do not copy/repost/translate anywhere! / all dividers by @benkeibear