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pantpisser9000 · 5 months

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Combined together, Chapter 6: Is it a fish? A vegtable? A person? No it's a-

Shellington had begged the Captain that he would let him out during the nighttime to do some research–he just wanted to see the people during the night, not just during the day! It allowed for more through research, in his own words. The Captain was unsure at first, partially because Shellington couldn’t really drive a GUP, (and ESPECIALLY not without supervision!) but Shellington insisted–he just wouldn’t drive one. He knew how to be safe!

The Captain was (understandably) nervous with the whole shark incident that had happened a week prior, but after a whole lot of pestering and maybe a little help with the persuasion from the Professor, he was permitted to go. He got all set up with the oxygen tanks, sealed up his helmet, and dove into the water. It was comforting to be surrounded by it again, and he swam out through the Octo Hatch. He wouldn’t be out long, like he had promised the Captain. Of course, he looked at many things, took notes on his water-proof notebook and pen, (it worked surprisingly well! He was ecstatic at that) and it was intriguing how things acted differently when the darkness encompassed the already deep and dark ocean.

And, after a little bit of research, he headed back to the Octopod, (he practically had to tear himself away–he did really want to continue) as his oxygen was running low. Not dangerously, of course, (but, in all honesty, he’d totally forget completely and accidentally drown because he got distracted by some creature or something) and as he swam back, he saw something odd.

On the ‘legs’ of the Octopod, he saw circular things, and so he, slightly confused, swam over. Putting his magnifying glass to his eye, and peered inside of the circular things. They were eggs, as far as he could tell. Looking back, he saw a few shark hybrids circling the ship, and he took it upon himself to take them. Plus, even if those people didn’t eat the (slightly larger than usual) eggs, they would likely fall off as soon as the ship launched, anyways.

He swam inside, eggs clustered together in his arms. Tweak looked over to him from her games, an eyebrow raised. “...what are those?” she asked, the southern accent as prominent as ever. “Not quite sure,” Shellington said, looking down at the presumed eggs. “They were latched onto the side of the Octopod,” he said. “I didn’t want them to get eaten. Or shaken off when we launch.” he said, and Tweak shrugged. “Fair enough, I ‘pose.” she replied, before returning to her game.

Shellington headed up, eggs in his arms, and placed them on the table. Given how they were more than likely fish eggs, (even if he wasn’t sure exactly what type) he was sure they’d be okay in open air for a minute while he tugged out the incubator, filling it with the same temperature of water that the sea water had been, (he had obviously taken the temperature during his research) and he placed them all carefully inside. And then, he watched, and eventually, he fell asleep, to his own lament later that day.

He had been shaken awake that next morning, “five more minutes, mom,” he mumbled sleepily, moving his head to the side sleepily. “Wake up, Shellington,” someone said, shaking him a little more, before Shellington sleepily raised his head. It was the Captain, unsurprisingly. “Oh, hello, Captain. Apologies. Found..” he groggily motioned over to the incubator, “these eggs. They’re really quite..” he yawned, “Fascinating.”

“I see–where did you find them?” the Captain asked, helping Shellington up. He yawned once more, “On the side of the Octopod. I couldn’t just leave them there!” The Captain nodded as they walked out of the lab and walking over to the chute. “Do you know what type of fish they are?” the Captain questioned.

“I’m not entirely sure. Couldn’t properly examine them, but they’re bigger than any other eggs I've ever seen or heard of–ever.” he told him, and the Captain nodded, “That’s very interesting, Shellington. Let’s get breakfast though, alright? Then you can figure it out.”

Shellington agreed at the time, though he couldn’t help himself, every night he just ended up studying and studying these eggs!

It had gotten to the point where the crew was a tad concerned about him. He was sure these eggs belonged to regular fish hybrids at first, but they were huge! Biggest eggs he’s ever seen or even heard of, and they didn’t quite look like any of the eggs Shellington had seen in any textbooks. Very brightly colored, too. That seemed like a survival flaw, though, because if theyw ere bright they might attract predators more easily!

But he supposed they could be poisonous, (like Poison dart frogs) and if a predator were to sink their nasty teeth into the soft eggs that they could get sick. That was his main guess, at least. He couldn’t really test it. They weren’t poisonous to the touch, he knew that, (given how he’d picked them up with no problem whatsoever, although it was risky. He wasn’t really thinking it through) and he couldn’t really test if they were poisonous to the bite without harming them in some way or another.

So, instead, he waited, eager to see what would hatch out. The Professor hadn’t known either. It was probably a new species!

And, maybe he was slightly neglecting his own health. Just a little. Maybe he’d fallen asleep at his desk, so Tweak’s contraption couldn’t really launch him out of the bed he wasn’t in, and he’d missed Breakfast. For some reason, no one came to wake him up, but they did bring down some breakfast. He was unsure who, but his running theory was it was either the Professor, the Captain, or Dashi.

As he awoke once more, dark circles under his eyes, the smell of breakfast greeted him once more. He looked over to the incubator. Nothing, yet. He quietly picked up his food, shoveling it into his mouth as he watched the incubator. Once he was done, it was back to research and notes–he had a stack of books and studies and all of that jazz messily strewn on his desk, and he sifted through it once more. The eggs were so strange–big, round, colorful, some having some minor characteristics of some other fish but clearly not being those eggs because of the colors and size. He hoped that the incubator’s water was at the right temperature, still.

Research, research, and more research and he simply couldn’t find any answers! So, he stayed in his lab the whole day, skipping lunch because he felt he was on the cusp of an answer, but he wasn’t. This absolutely, positively, was a new species. Inkling brought down dinner, (and it was a larger portion because Shellington had refused lunch–”I’ve almost got it, Professor! Can’t stop now!”-- and he needed nutrients) and Shellington hastily ate it like a rabid dog.

He researched late into the night, and eventually, his eyes got droopy and his hands weak and his head rested in his arms.

Suddenly, as if he was dreaming, was that singing? He thought, blinking his eyes open, and slowly raising his head.

(this is a REALLY old drawing, (and plus, low quality!) apologies, but i wanted to chuck it in here anyways for funsies. might start putting art in these chapters more but we'll see).

He looked over to the Incubator, large eggs inside, and plucked one out, holding it to his ear. Yes, it’s certainly coming from the eggs, he thought, fascinated. Suddenly, the egg popped open, and inside…

A small person, with a plant growing from their head and a fishlike tail. It was still singing as it had popped out, and Shellington’s surprise didn’t dwindle as heard a pop, pop, pop, pop and a few more emerged! They were quite small, and Shellington held them all in his arms, and he was so happy because this was a new creature! It looked like they were hybridized with both vegetable and animal, so, “Vegimals. That’s your species!” he said, carrying them over to a tank. “ Jumping Jellyfish! Oh, I’m so excited–this is fascinating. So fascinating!” he cried, and he watched as they all swam around. He grabbed a new notepad, (which he would later slap a piece of tape on and title “Vegimals”) and scrawled down a few things.

Able to swim straight from hatching–seem to be able to breath underwater

Seem to speak a foreign language from birth

Seem to have plants growing from their head

All of them have different hair colors!

He put a hand to his chin-names. It looked like they were all different species, and different vegetables, ( which he would later realize was extremely odd-this wasn’t natural, at all ) so he decided–what if, like he had done with the species name, he combined the names of both the fish and the vegetable?

That yellow one, the first one to hatch, seemed to be part Tuna, part turnip. “You’re Tunip,” Shellington said, pointing to him. The newly named Tunip went up to the glass, part hand-part flipper to his chest proudly, “Chiba Chiba!” and Shellington wondered if it was baby-blabber or actual words. He’d figure it all out eventually.

The tiniest one, (to the point where he was a little concerned,) though he realized it was so tiny because he was part minnow! And part Tomato, of course, on account of the red and the shape of the greenery growing from his head. Shellington wasn’t the best at fruits and vegetables, but he could tell that!

In the complete opposite, there was one with purple hair that looked like a ginger plant and a grouper fish! “Purple, your name is… Grouber!” he said, and Grouber did a little circle in the water, before popping back out. “Chiba!” but it was so deep and gravely that it took Shellington by surprise. “I would assume you’re the oldest, but technically Tunip is..” he said, laughing a little. The last two were pink and orange.

The orange one was obviously a carrot, and what looked like a bass. “Hm, I think.. Barrot, for you!” Shellington said, booping the little guy on the nose. He giggled, kicking back and doing a roll backward before swimming around a little.

And, last but not least, the pink one. “You look like a coy and.. A- a radish, I think. So,” Shellington thought for a moment, “Codish!” he said. Suddenly, he realized he needed to tell the rest of the crew about this utterly exciting news! Immediately, he rushed over to the glowing orange button, and pressed it. Suddenly, that WOOP, WOOP, sound rang throughout the Octopod, and he said into the small mic, “Everyone, to the Vegibortary! Eer- um, the Laboratory!” he said, and he ran back over to his vegimals.

“That wasn’t scary, right?” he asked, and while Tomminow looked a little frightened, and the rest surprised, they were all alright. “...chiba.” Tunip said, and suddenly, the Captain came through the door. “Shellington, what’s going on?” he asked, and Shellington grinned. “Look! The eggs hatched!” he said, stepping to the side to allow a clear view. The Captain, adjusting his hat, looked at them, walking over and peering down.

Tomminow hid behind Tunip, and the Captain stepped back, not wanting to scare them. The rest of the Octonauts filed in after that–Kwazii was next, darting in and frantically asking what happened, and when Shellington explained he looked… disappointed? Did he want something to happen? But Shellington didn’t really dwell on it, as Peso stumbled his way in, medical bag in his hand.Then, Tweak, sleepily walking in, and Dashi, earbuds looped around her neck, and finally the Professor, sitting contently on his hover-chair. “My, I’ve never seen anything like them!” he exclaimed, and Shellington nodded. “I’ve dubbed them the vegimals! ” Shellington excitedly told them, and pointed to each one. “This is Tunip, he’s a tuna and turnip, and he’s the eldest, since he was the first to hatch,” Shellington said, pointing to him. He waved, trilling happily.

“This tomminow, since he’s a tomato and a minnow, this is grouber, as he’s a ginger plant and a grouper fish, they’re by far the smallest and largest,” he said, tominnow hiding behind grouber briefly as he trilled, “Chiba!” incredulously deeply, and he pointed to the pink and orange ones “and finally, Barrot and Codish!”

The Captain nodded, “This is very interesting, of course, but…” slight concern washed over the Captain’s face. “You need some sleep, Shellington.” he remarked. “What? But Captain-” the Captain shook his head. “No buts,” he put his hand on the sea otter’s shoulder, leading him over to bed. “B-but the Vegimals, Captain-” and before the Captain himself could interject or Shellington could continue, the Professor did. “I’ll take care of them, Shellington. Perhaps I can start to teach them how to read,” he said, putting a hand to his chin.

Shellington thought for a beat, and then, “Well, alright. Just.. be careful with them? They’re newly hatched.” he said, and the Professor saluted, “Why of course, Shellington. Now, gather round,” he said, tentacles coming out of his back, scooping up all of the vegimals. “I have a tank in the library, don’t fret,” he assured Shellington, who nodded. “Everybody off to bed, then!” the Captain declared, and everyone went their separate ways once more.

“Let’s get you to bed,” the Captain vocalized, and Shellington, lips pursed, grumbly sat on his bed. The Captain gave him a look. “What is it?” Shellington lamented. “ In bed, Shellington.” the Captain said, handing him his nightcap. “I know otherwise you’ll just go back to researching.” Shellington stayed silent. He couldn’t really dispute that–the Captain had read him like a book. It was 100% true. He would.

So, Shellington clamored under the covers, and the Captain walked off, flicking the light off. And, it felt nice. Truly.

That next morning, he was launched out of bed, straight into his chair, as always. He rubbed his eyes, shifting his wonderful green nightcap off his head and trading it for his Octo-cap, slid off his slippers in exchange for his bright blue boots. He grabbed his satchel from off his chair, and immediately headed to the library–he wanted to check on the vegimals, of course!

He noticed the vegimals, all adorable of course, sleeping on the floor. He wondered what they should sleep in? Obviously, they could all sleep in his bed, but he wasn’t sure how that’d work with the launching thing. They were part plant, clearly, so maybe just like…. In the dirt? He was sure he’d figure it out. Either way, he scooped them all up, shaking the Professor awake. “Oh, hello, Shellington!” he said, adjusting his monocle and sitting up straight.

“Hello, Professor. Just figured I’d wake you, given it’s morning now.” he said. The Professor nodded, hopping out of his comfy armchair. The hoverchair couldn’t be transported from the hq very easily, so instead he just had sitting places everywhere else and he’d have to walk for brief periods.

The two Octonauts and the five still slumbering vegimals made their way to the kitchen, and the dining room. Since Inkling hadn’t cooked this morning, they were eating previously cooked food. Leftovers, practically. Everyone still seemed to enjoy it. Shellington woke his vegimals up.

He gave each of them, (still in his arms–they likely were able to get tlegs, but currently, as babies, they only had mermaid-like tails) a fish biscuit. Tomminow only ate half of his, and Grouber demanded three more, and then he seemed satisfied.

The Captain coughed into his fist. “Shellington,” “Aye, Captain?” he responded. “I don’t mean to be rude, but… What exactly will they do ? We can’t really have them, ahem, what’s the word,” Kwazii immediately butted in, “Freeload!” and the Captain nodded, “ Freeload. Of course, I don’t expect anything from them yet, as they are pretty young, clearly, but it wasn’t planned to have five kids on the ship.” he said.

Shellington felt that was a little rude–though, to be fair, it wasn’t unfounded. More mouths to feed could make things difficult. “Well, I think.. Maybe they could just, help around, you know? With the cooking, gardening, most things.” he offered. The Captain nodded.

***

The vegimals only really listened to Shellington. It seemed they could understand English perfectly fine, they just had difficulty learning it themselves. Like most fish hybrids, they were fast learners. Shellington was sure that if they were in the wild, they’d have to fend for themselves completely without mothers so they’d have to learn everything on their own. Therefore, if he was teaching them–they had a guide, that meant that they could learn even faster!

And the fact that they had a language of their own straight from birth was fascinating as well. A series of chirps, trills, and just what would be considered gibberish to most. Not to Dr. Shellington, though! He was already starting to get what they meant, despite the fact that he’d only had them a few days. (He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he’d kill for these guys despite only getting them recently)

Today, a cooking lesson was in order–mainly directed by Professor Inkling. It was good they were learning these things, they could possibly take over completely one day. Once they’re trained, of course. The Professor was rather old, so it was a bit rude to make him cook everything, anyways (even if he had insisted on it–he just said the others could help at times).

“How about you two mix this?” Inkling said, handing Codish and Barrot a bowl of unmixed ingredients. Immediately, Codish attempted to dip his face in, but Shellington stopped him. “Nono, not like that. Here, like this ” Shellington said, taking the bowl in his hands and (attempting) stirring the batter, some splashing on his face. He wiped it off with his pointer finger, licking it. “Mmm, tasty. Now, you give it a try.” he requested, handing the bowl back to Codish.

Codish nodded sharply, stirring it super super faster, and Shellington stopped him again. “Not that fast, Codish… let’s have Barrot give it a try.” he said, handing the bowl to Barrot, who more calmly mixed it. “See? Like that.” Shellington praised. “I’m sure you’ll get it, Codish.” he said, turning back to the others. Grouber was currently trying to lick the spilled batter off the floor, and Shellington scooped him up. “Don’t do that!” he said, placing him on the counter and looking around. He opened the fridge, taking out a fish biscuit. “Here, have that.” he said. Grouber gobbled it up.

Shellington ruffled his hair. Tunip was now intently listening to Inkling on what to pour in, (they were making multiple batches) and was mimicking him excellently. Shellington figured that he’d probably end up being the most responsible of the five vegimals. Tomminow looked confused, so Shellington picked him up, asking what was wrong. He was met with unintelligible gibberish. “Hm… I think-” Shellington looked over and Grouber was trying to tip the batter bowl to drink it up, hands inside the bowl while Codish and Barrot were incapable of stopping him. “GROUBER!” Shellington scolded, and Grouber nervously got his previously batter-covered hand out of his mouth. Shellington didn’t notice, but Tunip seemed to take note of that. He watched intently as his dad poured the batter, and shaped it into fishy shapes. He tried after him. It was a little wonky, to Tunip’s chagrin, but it was a biscuit. Shellington praised him nonetheless.

Tomminow’s effort, (after he was put down on the counter by Shellington) was worse, and yet Shellington still told him he did good. They were doing a lot better than he was expecting–they really did learn quite fast!

The others had similar results to Tomminows, (Grouber was banned, at least temporarily from doing it–as the one time he tried he instead just ate it) where it vaguely resembled the fishy shapes, but wasn’t as good as Tunip’s or certainly not the Professor’s. Professor Inkling ended up… assisting with that after all of them had done it. Inkling put the biscuits in the oven, (Shellington said the Vegimals weren’t ready for that yet. That could actually be, you know, dangerous ).

Once the biscuits were done, the Vegimals excited came with Shellington has he brought around a fourth of them to the hq. The 3/4ths would be saved for a later meal. Of course, all of the other crewmates said they were delicious, (Shellington had no idea how, but they were somehow perfectly tasty in every way) which brightened all five vegimal’s moods immediately. Afterwards, Shellington decided to do a little… studying.

The whole hybridization thing was never very… conclusive. Everyone responded to it differently. For some people, they were just always completely human, no matter what. For most, they usually stayed primarily or entirely human the entire time, (for example, most of the crew–besides Kwazii, who always had feline ears and a tail, catty eyes, occasionally the nose and whiskers) and it just activated whenever something happened. For example, Peso’s arms had turned into flippers and ears became covered by feathers when he either got nervous/anxious enough or when he was escaping from that tiger shark–flippers were easier to swim with, after all. For Shellington, his hands and feet usually became webbed (or just fully turned into paws), otterish ears out of his head, and the tail to complete whenever he got in water. Same thing for his sister, Pearl, but she was primarily in water at most (if not all) times, anyways.

It was different for marine life, though. For example, with sharks (and practically all whales) they were basically mermaids, just usually with oddly tinted skin. That tiger shark that had attacked Peso and Kwazii had gray striped skin, after all. That was because the more human they were, the less energy it took up. For smaller creatures, though (and this applies to practically any insect or bug, as well) it takes up a lot less power to be fully animalistic, so they often are either fully animals or almost completely animals.

Depends on the person, in a lot of cases, though. Just… less so with the majority of sea life. That was what Shellington knew. But the vegimals seemed and were, different.

For starters, they were combined not only with fish, but also various vegetables! Shellington had never even heard of a non-sentient combo before, let alone three things together. So, therefore–the vegimals were a mysterious, wonderful, anomaly. They didn’t seem dangerous, of course, not what he was getting at, but he had a feeling they were the product of a much more recent experiment. Of course, the whole hybridization thing had been a result from a experience a long time ago, but this? Much different.

He needed to figure out one thing. At least to learn more about them;

Were they created by someone on purpose/someone in a lab?

Or were they just (affectionately, of course. Shellington adored the little guys) freaks of nature?

He’d never seen anything like this before, so he was leaning more towards the first option. If that was the case though, who was doing these experiments? Maybe they had left branding of some sort on the vegimals? It wasn’t uncommon for scientists to do so, so he checked all over all five of the vegimal’s bodies, but alas, nothing. Even when putting them in the water, ‘activating’ their fish tails, nothing.

Shellington was at a loss. There were no clear leads, anywhere. He would ask the vegimals, though for one, he still couldn’t completely understand their language (he couldn’t learn quite as fast as all of them) , and two, he found them as eggs. They wouldn’t remember any of that stuff–they hadn’t hatched yet!

He closed his newly-titled notebook, ( The Vegimals by Dr. Shellington SeaOtter, as he’d called it. Maybe it’d become an actual book one day–with a little bit of revising and editing, of course. His thoughts were pretty scattered most of the time, and his handwriting wasn’t usually legible to anyone besides him. He lived up to the ‘ Dr ’ in his name) and he looked at the vegimals, who had all fallen asleep on his desk.

Smiling, he picked all five up, and put them in their tank. He wondered if they needed sunlight like regular plants or if they just ate food? Maybe a mix of both? Grouber certainly had taken a liking to people-food, but maybe sunlight (or at least the artificial version of it that they used in the garden already) would help fill them all up faster? Maybe that was why he was so hungry all the time–he was by far the largest, and not because of his liking for food. He needed sunlight, too. Shellington decided he’d test it in the morning, as he didn’t want to wake them. It’d be rude, he thought. Either way, he took off his work boots and cap (placing down his satchel on the back of his chair) trading them for his nightcap and slippers as he crawled in his bed.

That next morning, he woke up, dazed after being launched out. He held his head–he still needed to get used to that bit. It was a bit dizzying, still. Even after a little on the Octopod,, he wasn’t completely adapted yet. He got up, and noticed the Vegimals tank was empty. “Vegimals?” he asked, looking around, and he was sent into a panic, and his breathing sped up and he held his chest, and he gripped onto his own wrists, and he found himself scared as all hell, and he looked everywhere, frantically. He might’ve been freaking out, shockingly. Pacing around, head in his hands as he thought, he considered the places they might be;

The library

The kitchen

The garden

None of those were impossible, running out, frantically looking left and right out the door, and he ran into the library. Empty besides the Professor’s massive collection of books surrounding him, and he considered maybe they were hiding behind the books, but that was silly, obviously.

Breath in, breath out Shellington, he thought to himself, but he might’ve muttered it. He met his own command, certainly didn’t help though. Where was he going next? Oh, right–the kitchen. He ran down the hallway, jumping in the chute and heading to the chute, and there he was in the hq, and he just needed to take one more to get to the the the – what was it again? The kitchen, oh he hoped the poor vegimals were alright, he prayed to no god that they were okay and in the kitchen with the Professor, and he jumping in, despite the odd look from Dashi, (she checked the weather and everything before heading to breakfast) and he frantically glanced around in the Garden pod, and no, they weren’t there. He was panicking now, his fingers clenching and unclenching and his shoulders up and he buried his fingernails in his palms, and he slid down the ladder into the kitchen, and he sighed of relief. The vegimals (and the Professor) were there, and they were completely fine. He was freaking out over nothing.

It had been a while since that had happened. A long while. He was often logical, and didn’t freak out often, and if he did, he usually reassured himself quickly. It was perhaps because the vegimals were new, a completely unprecedented (and unpredictable) thing that had happened upon him and now he cared for them deeply.

He walked over, and he noticed Inkling barely needed to supervise at this point. He was just watching. Shellington glanced over to the Professor, who just shrugged. “I was sleeping comfortably on my armchair, and they woke me up, chittering on about something and led me to the kitchen.” he explained. Shellington nodded. It was great that they’d practically gotten cooks, (and maybe eventually gardeners and just general assistants, given their want to help. They were more than eager to help with Shellington’s research when he mentioned the word) and now everyone could focus on their actual, technical jobs. Even if the Professor didn’t technically have a specific job–he was just the founder, and practically a librarian with his massive collection of books, it’d be nice for him to not worry about that, anyways. Especially given his age. He was, by far, the oldest one on the Octopod. Shellington knew all of their ages because of course he did.

He was 29, Peso was 27, Nobody (not even Kwazii himself) knew Kwazii’s age, but they guessed he was around 28 or 29, Captain Barnacles was 34, Dashi and Tweak both 28, and the Professor was another unsure one, but around 60-70.

Either way, he beat out the second oldest, (the Captain) by at least 26 years, (though honestly probably more) and he needed more rest then the rest of them. He wasn’t going on any missions, anyways, but the Professor seemed content with that.

At the very least, the Professor wouldn’t have to worry about cooking anymore.

The vegimals continued on with their cooking, then, all dashing around the kitchen. There was a flour spill or two, but it ended up being alright, and the vegimals had finished by the time everyone was up, sitting at the table for breakfast. Shellington wondered if there’d ever be a time where he wouldn't watch them cook. Maybe. He didn’t know yet. Either way, he walked over with the vegimals and their newly prepared breakfast, and everyone sat down to eat. It was really quite nice in all honesty.

Either way, Shellington ate up the food, as did everyone else as they all chattered. Apparently, from what he could gather from going to the table mid-conversation, Peso, Kwazii, and Barnacles were going to do another brief check-up mission. Since it was still so early, they weren’t doing anything too serious yet. Shellington knew that would change about a month in, though, unless something big happened that they felt they needed to help with.

And, it was real nice, and Shellington was just happy about the vegimals. Really.

***

Tweak and Kwazii had some fights. They enjoyed ‘em, an easy way to get energy out. Both of them were often too energetic for their own good before bed, so, they had come up with a.. Routine of sorts. They had come up with it after that first time, they had a little chat, (“Rematch, matey?” “I think you’ll need more than one rematch, Kwaz,” “...Every other day?” “Let’s shake on it, pardner,”) and it had been invented. Both of them knew better than to actually seriously harm each other, at worst Tweak was left with a scratch or two on her arms and legs, Kwazii with a few bruises.

They were already pretty close–even if Tweak got annoyed at Kwazii, and Kwazii occasionally was a bit more than slightly rude back. Siblings, practically. And they’d known each other for what, a couple weeks or months at best? It was really nice, in all honesty. Kwazii liked having someone to get out his energy with, and Tweak liked getting out her anger (even if she actually wasn’t a super angry person–just got annoyed at times).

And today was one of those days. Kwazii had flung himself down the ladder, landing on both feet perfectly, (likely on account of being a cat–they always land on their feet, after all) and Tweak was waiting, popping the rest of her carrot in her mouth. “So?” she asked. Kwazii grinned, and ran towards her,arms outstretched as he tackled her. Now, he was on top of her, and she smiled back, wrestling him so he was on his back and her on top of her, now.

Kwazii grabbed her shoulders, slamming her on the side onto the ground, quickly jumping up, about to declare himself the winner, (he was a cocky guy) Tweak grabbed his ankle and pulled his leg out from under him, and his shoulder hit the rim of the pool in the launch back, and her groaned. “Yeow..” he muttered, and his eyes fluttered shut. “Ye win, matey…” he grumbled, and Tweak grinned. “You’re never ganna beat me,” she said, but when she wasn’t met with a rebuttal, she grew a little worried.

“Kwazii?”

“....eh?”

“You alright?”

Kwazii tried to get up, but ended up flopping back down. “Yeow–uh, yup, matey,” he said, lying.

Tweak picked him up from under his armpits, and he mewled, tail still. Huh. That’s… probably not good she thought, and she carried him over to her room, placing him on the edge of it. “....we probably have to tell Peso about this, right?” she said. “Naw, naw, argh, I be fine.” he lied again. “Kwazii.”

“Yea, matey?” “Don’t lie.” “....mmmmmmkay, maybe it hurts a little or maybe it hurts a lot, but–” “Naw. I don’t think Peso’ll mind. He mentioned at lunch he was ganna stay up tonight, anyways,” she said, and Kwazii groaned, getting up. “I can walk, matey,” he said, standing up straight, hands on his hips, and he groaned again. “...just can’t use me shoulder…” he groaned, and the two of them went up, (using the octo-chute, given how Kwazii couldn’t use the ladder) and Peso was in the infirmary. Both of them, (silently, of course. They wouldn’t admit it outloud.) were glad they weren’t waking Peso up, and he jumped as they entered the room. “Aa!” before blinking, squinting, and widening his eyes again. “Oh, Tweak and Kwazii– um, uh.. What’re…?” he muttered, confused and somewhat tired. “Kwazii, uh, fell.” Tweak said. Peso, in his tiredness, didn’t detect her lie, and Kwazii didn’t correct it. Neither of them wanted a lecturing from the Captain (he hadn’t done anything like that yet, besides when Kwazii ate a few too many cakes and threw up) so it was probably better for them to lie about that, anyways.

Peso’s eyes widened, though. “Fell? On what?” he asked, rushing over to Kwazii, adjusting his tilted cap. “Me shoulder,” Kwazii said, and Peso led him over to the examination bench. Tweak just stood awkwardly. She felt it’d be rude to leave, given how it was kinda her fault and all.

Peso looked to him for permission. “Can you remove your shirt?” and Kwazii went as pale as a ghost. Tweak noticed his silence. “I can leave th’ room if–” she started, and Kwazii shook his head. “Tis not that.” he said, and he, –facing away from Tweak– pulled off his shirt, and Tweak saw Peso’s mouth gape wide open. She raised an eyebrow. What was so shocking? She walked over and suddenly, she knew why.

Across Kwazii’s chest, under and over where breasts would’ve been, were four large arching scars, and some smaller scars around, and it looked like he had gotten stitched up, and Kwazii looked a little nervous. “Shark attack.” he said, and Tweak and Peso looked at eachother, and Peso faced back towards him. “...Kwazii, I’m a medic. I know that’s not from a shark attack.” he said. Tweak (obviously) wasn’t a medic either, but even she knew it wasn’t from that too.

“Okay, okay, I… well, I had these real annoyin’ lumps of flesh growin on me chest, and they made me feel…. Gross…. and so some people in me pirate crew at the time… chopped ‘em off.” he said, and Peso stared blankly as Tweak’s jaw gaped open. “....that’s what you meant. On the form.” Peso said. Tweak blinked. “I- well, I think I’ll have to check those as well, plus your bruise from falling, just to check that they're not infected. How long ago did that get done?” he asked, and Kwazii shrugged, then winced. “I think… it be about a few years?” he guessed. “We didn’t be good timekeepers on that old ship.” he clarified.

“Hm. It should be okay, then, if it hasn’t been yet.” he said. “We used th’ saltwater an the rum t’ make sure, I think,” Kwazii said and Peso looked horrified. Like his whole family had just gotten murdered in front of him. “....Please tell me you were unconscious..” Peso muttered, head in his hands.

“THAT BE A OPTION!?” Kwazii asked, but in a yell. “Shh– we don’t wanna wake the others up,” Peso said, and Kwazii nodded. “Oh. Right.” Kwazii said, and Peso quickly wrapped up the bruise with some bandages. “Unfortunately, that’s all I can do for now. We’ll need to tell the Captain about this in the morning,” he said, stepping away. Tweak and Kwazii looked at each other nervously. “..aye, matey,” Kwazii agreed, and Tweak guided him back to his room after Peso instructed him to sleep on his other non-bruised side.

Tweak headed back down, playing some games for a while before heading off to bed herself.

When Captain Barnacles went to breakfast that morning, he wasn’t expecting to hear that his crewmate, Kwazii, had bruised up his shoulder falling (Though, honestly? He was sure there was more to the story then Kwazii just quote on quote, “slipping” ).

“Yes, he needs a little to recover. Fortunately, he didn’t b-break anything or anything like that. Unfortunately, the only prescription I can give him is rest…. And some pain medication, if he wants it.” Peso had told him in the hq, right before breakfast. “Hm. How long do you think it’ll take for him to heal?” he asked. “Usually I’d say a couple days, maybe a week at worst, but with h-him ? Wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow got it, um, worse and had to wait longer. I have a feeling he’s not the patient type.”

Barnacles nodded, and the two of them headed to breakfast together. Peso seemed to want to tell him something more, but Barnacles wasn’t going to push him to. Could be another thing with Kwazii that Kwazii didn’t want to share, (and Peso couldn’t or at least shouldn’t with doctor-patient confidentiality) could be something unrelated entirely. He simply couldn’t know.

So, he ate his breakfast, (which was wonderful on account of the vegimals and the Professor) and he adjusted his helmet’s collar. Nothing of value or anything had actually…. Happened, yet. And, Kwazii was hurt anyway, so he couldn’t do any missions (Even the more ‘chill’ ones, as illustrated by the Tiger shark incident, in case it all went wrong). Barnacles knew they were stopping by a reef soon though, and he had a feeling some of them (namely Dashi and Shellington) would want to stop by. For Dashi, to snap a few pictures (her being a photographer was part of the reason she was hired in the first place!) and for Shellington?

He’d obviously want to study the reef. Maybe bring the vegimals out too, let them.. Breath in? –Barnacles wasn’t entirely sure how those guys functioned– The nice, warm salty sea and look at all the pretty things and creatures. That was all. Barnacles was curious about exactly when they’d get there, so he stood behind Dashi, “Dashi,” he said. She continued looking at the screen, “Yes Captain?” she asked back, hands intertwined in her lap and looking back at him. “When will we reach the coral reef?” he asked. Dashi turned to her screen once more, tapping on some things. “At our current pace, as long as nothing goes wrong, we should be there in… about 17 hours.” she said, and Barnacles nodded sharply, saying, “Wonderful, Dashi.” he walked away then.

He honestly wasn’t sure what to do till then, but, miraculously, Kwazii approached him. “Pingpong?” he asked. Barnacles looked to his shoulder. “You sure you can-” “I be fine, matey!” Kwazii said, grabbing Barnacle’s wrist. He let him tug him along, and they went to the game pod. Kwazii picked up his paddle, both his hands clenched around it.

Barnacles picked his up as well on the other side of the table, tossing it between his hands for a moment before settling on his right. I didn’t know Kwazii was left-handed. He thought, briefly. Kwazii bounced the ball, before sending it soaring across the table. Barnacles reflected it back without a second thought.

This went on for a little while, Barnacles doing it (somewhat–Kwazii was shockingly good) effortlessly while Kwazii was clearly working up a sweat; even if he denied it, (“you be goin’ too easy on me,” and he panted, “matey”) and eventually, even Kwazii’s cat reflexes acted up, and the ball just barely grazed over the top of the paddle, and it bounced against the wooden floors of the game pod. Kwazii glanced back. And then back to Barnacles, who was grinning. “...It-” he started, then stopped. “...” Barnacles placed his paddle down, “NOPE– re-” he breathed in, “Rematch, matey!” and Barnacles shrugged, “Alright, Kwazii.” and picked up his paddle once more. And they played another game.

And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another.

Kwazii was just good at persuasion, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. And, today was a designated “travel day”, so he had nothing to do. Except it was getting late. He checked his octo-compass – 9pm. How did time pass so quickly? “Kwazii, we must head off to bed, it’s very late.” Kwazii glanced around, noticing the darkened water. Did he really not notice that? “Aw, how about one more game, matey?” he asked, pleading with puppy dog eyes (or kitty cat?) but Barnacles just shook his head.

“No, Kwazii.” he said, walking off, and he looked back, Kwazii wasn’t following. “Kwazii,” he said, “I expect you to follow” he continued. “Naw,” Kwazii said, and Barnacles sighed. He walked over back to Kwazii, throwing Kwazii over his shoulder like a hunted deer. “Hey-” he protested, and the Captain didn’t listen for a second as he kicked at him, pounding on his back.

He made it to the area between their rooms, opening up Kwaziis, and placing the disgruntled Kwazii on the bed. He picked off his hat, placing it to the side. “Fine..” Kwazii grumbled. Barnacles nodded. “Excellent.” and he headed off into his own room, putting on his pajamas and tucking himself under the covers. He’d more than likely be tired that next morning–he usually headed to bed a lot earlier….and with more food in his stomach.

And, eventually, Captain Barnacles was able to fall asleep, and soon wake up bright and early once more.

Dashi was excited to stop at the coral reef, she was going to take so many pictures of all of the different creatures and structures and just everything. Shellington had told her that it would be the vegimal’s first time seeing a coral reef, so they were excited too, with his explanations. Of course, he had said it all scientifically, so they didn’t understand much of it; but, they were hyped nonetheless.

As the Octopod landed, Dashi stood up from her swivel-seat. She stretched, reaching her hands high in the air, bending her elbow and putting the other one through straight, and then swapped. She turned, the vegimal’s little faces plastered against the Octopod’s glass. And, of course ;Shellington was right there with him. He turned back to Dashi. “I’ve never been able to explore a coral reef like this before! Scuba’d a few times, but, nothing like this!” he exclaimed excitedly, and he immediately rounded up all the vegimals, as they followed him.

They looked like they were trying to go in single file, though they were all wonky and mismatched. It was cute, at the very least. “I think everyone else is waiting in the launch bay,” Dashi said. Shellington nodded, gathering up all the vegimals as they all hopped in after him, and Dashi picked up her camera from the table. She’d grabbed it that night, and she swiftly followed after Shellington and his 17 (5) children.

Dashi was right–everyone was in the launch bay. “We’ve landed,” she said, and Barnacles nodded. “Alright, Octonauts, head into whichever–” he started, and Kwazii immediately jumped in the GUP B before he could finish. “ Kwazii. ” “Yeah?” “Your shoulder is still hurt.” he said, crossing his arms. Peso, (nervously) made a quick nod. “H-he’s right, Kwazii. You shouldn’t d-drive, um, yet..” and he gulped after he finished.

Is he still scared of him? I assumed they had become friends after Peso helped him with that injury. Dashi thought to herself. Though, it seemed like Peso was scared of just about everything, so it was entirely possible this was just how he acted around anyone even mildly intimidating. (Even if Dashi herself certainly didn’t find Kwazii like that in the slightest– he, (with no ill intent) just seemed… kinda stupid, honestly. Not scary.)

Despite Peso’s clearly anxiety-filled reaction, Kwazii groaned, front-flipping out of the GUP. He stood next to the Captain. “Cap, I think y’ should try the GUP D.” Tweak said, pointing to the yellow one–Dashi remembered painting that one. It was bright yellow, and resembled a crab, (but kinda reminded her of a stingray, a little) and the Captain looked slightly confused.

“Why is that?” Tweak walked over, patting the side of the GUP. “It’s probably one of th’ more… difficult ones to pilot. I figured that I shouldn’t be the only t’ know how t’ drive it,” she said, and the Captain nodded. “I see. I’ll… do that, then.” he responded. He climbed into the GUP D, adjusting his long legs in the flatish GUP, before flashing a grin and a thumbs-up.

Tweak thumbs-upped back. “Hmm…” she put a hand to her chin. “Dashi and Shellington, are you two good in the GUP E?” she asked. Dashi looked over to Shellington, Perfect! He’s one of the only ones I actually know, and she was going to do that thing where they looked to each other and nodded, but Shellington didn’t get the cue. “Sounds wonderful, Tweak,” Dashi said instead. “Okay, one of the vegimals can come with you guys too.”

“That leaves myself, Kwazii and Peso in the GUP A, plus the rest of the vegimals, of course” Tweak said, and the rest of the five jumped into the GUPS. Dashi lowered both her and Shellington, (who had his notepad at the ready) + the yellow vegimal, (she didn’t know any of their names yet) in the GUP E into deep in the bay. The Octohatch opened, and the Captain (though a little wobbly) piloted the GUP D outside without issue. Tweak, Kwazii, and Peso piloted out easily as well. Then, it was Dashi’s turn. She did it with ease, and Shellington seemed at least a little impressed. Once they actually made it out to the reef though? He practically lit up, hands on his cheeks in excitement. He faced Dashi. “Fascinating, isn’t it? Oh, I’m so excited to examine everything!” he said, and almost jumped out, but Dashi grabbed the collar of his shirt, “Helmet” she simply stated. Shellington blinked in realization. “Ah. Right. Oops.” he said, pressing on his collar, making the bubble-like helmet go up over his entire head.

He then jumped into the water once more, his veggie children following in after them. Dashi clicked her helmet as well, and she took a deep breath, grabbed her camera, and submerged herself into the deep ocean.

It was warmer than she was expecting, but still took a little bit of getting used to. She hadn’t swam in a while. Sure, she surfed all the time, though that was all. She swam over, and her eyes widened–it was beautiful. She raised her camera, and click! She lowered it, swimming closer. Shellington was examining some coral, vegimals circling him. “Fascinating..” he mumbled, and Dashi snapped a picture. He frantically looked around before his eyes landed on Dashi.

“Oh! Dashi, hello!” he greeted, giving her a quick wave, and all five vegimals mimicked it. “Hi, Shellington,” she said back. “You see, this coral-” he started, beginning to ramble. Dashi thought it was sweet how he liked to talk on and on about this stuff–you could really tell how passionate he was.

Soon enough, the others were there too, Tweak and Peso coming up to Dashi and Shellington. “Hello, Peso,” Shellington said. “We should check around to see if any of the coral is sick,” Shellington stated. Peso seemed a little surprised at the suddenness, but nodded nonetheless. The two swam off together, (along with all of the still amazed vegimals) and now it was just the girls. “I hope y’ don’t mind if I stay with you,” Tweak said, rubbing the back of her neck; and Dashi flashed a thumbs up and a smile. “I don’t mind,” she told her, “I’ll just be taking a lot of photos, speaking of-” she snapped a picture of a surprised Tweak. “Hey! What was that for?” Tweak asked, not actually angry of course. Dashi giggled. “I need some pictures of everyone!” she said, and she heard a whooshing behind her, and she faced back, and she saw a fish hybrid quickly swimming past. “Wonder why that one’s in such a hurry,” she questioned, and then Tweak pointed, bunny ears sprouting from her head in fear, “PROBABLY BECAUSE OF HER–” Dashi spun around, and her eyes widened, and she raised her camera, snapping a picture as Tweak pulled her by her shoulders into a small hole (almost like a mini cave) in the coral.

Cramped up against each other, the shark hybrid, (Dashi was unsure of the type) looked at them through the hole. She flashed a toothy grin, before quickly swimming off and chasing some other snack. Dashi didn’t notice how her and Tweak’s hands were interlocked.

“Ah.. well,” Dashi started, fingers pressed against her helmet. Her bracelets moving a little in the water. “I think we should wait a moment.” Tweak said, and Dashi nodded. “Agreed. That shark girl could be faking us out,” she said, and Tweak agreed. They were silent for a moment, before, “...I have somethin’ I want t’ discuss with ya, anyways,” Tweak said. Dashi turned her attention to the rabbit hybrid. (whose ears were pressed against the ceiling)

“Yes, Tweak?” she asked. “Well, I think–I think we should work on a project together, you know?” she suggested. Dashi’s eyes widened. “I’m no engineer, though.” “I know, but y’ obviously know a thing or two about cameras–and computers in general.” Tweak said. Dashi nodded. “That’s true.”

“You see, I.. I like to take inspiration from nature, you know?” Tweak started. Dashi slowly nodded, unsure of where this was going. “And I’d like t’ study termite mounds. From the inside. Thing is, can’t quite do that given how big i am,” she said. Dashi confusedly nodded once more. “I was wondering if you could help me build a small camera to attach to a lil’ termite bot. Then I could look more easily.” Tweak finished.

Dashi would’ve put a hand to her chin, but the glass of the helmet prevented that, so she didn’t. She clapped. “I would love to.” She agreed, and Tweak grinned. “Now, let’s get outta here,” Tweak said, and they both clamored out of the coral.

The rest of the day was spent with them discussing ideas for the little termite-cam, and Dashi snapping picture after picture, and when they headed back, Tweak and Dashi had decided to get to work as soon as they could.

Soon.

#octonauts #fanfic #captain barnacles #octonauts dashi #octonauts peso #octonauts tweak #octonauts kwazii #octonauts shellington #okay quick note i actually have chapter 8 close to done but not chapter 7 #reasoning being is that i started writing what was og. chapter 7 and forgot that chap 6 was mainly dashi + shelly focused.#and i wrote another one of those #and i NEED to seperate those #so therefore; what was originally chapter 7 is being turned into chapter 8. sorries #and chapter 7 will take longer #anyways injury update: i'm good now mainly

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detransraichu · 19 days

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damn son I'm literally a transandrophobia poster and I routinely rail against TIRFism and even I think your takes are wack. "AMAB privilege" GTFO with that man. we can lift up transmasc voices and promote trans unity and talk about radfem ingression into trans spaces without making this another AMAB/AFAB oppression olympics thing - that was the whole problem, we should be doing the opposite. stop taking words like TIRF and pretending to be against radfems when you're eating their talking points for breakfast

tirf means trans inclusive radfem, so tirfs actually are radfems! i am one myself. terfs aren't actually a thing - there are definitely transphobic radfems, but radfeminism includes ALL afab people, transmascs included. i'm still veryyy critical of how many handle trans issues. i reblog as much material as i can for my book, which very often includes not-so-kind terms/phrasing, but i do try to use language as respectful as i can in my own posts so i can have actual conversations with trans folks and trans activists, including saying amab/afab and agab instead of male/female.

i do believe that transfem people face unique oppression on the complicated axis of what ppl call transmisogyny. which imo is mostly a mix of sexism and homophobia if someone knows that person's sex/agab, mixed with conditional misogyny if they pass and live their life as afab. if they're outed as amab, they're seen as a gnc man again and with all the violent sexism that comes with that. it's a very complex form of oppression. i know they go through a lot of unique trauma, i'm not denying it.

but i also believe that afab people are uniquely oppressed as well.

if not, then what do you call this if not unique oppression? forced impregnation, abortion/pregnancy issues, period tax, lack of menstruation/uterus research & resources, afab bodies being under-represented in medicine which causes horrific things to happen, afab babies being aborted or killed at birth for being born with a vagina (afab) bc they're seen as lesser, afab upbringing coming with very unique experiences that amab ppl for better or worse will never understand (it is NOT a fucking privilege fuck you), being born with a body type that is very obviously vulnerable against people with penises sexually due to people with bio dicks feeling genital pleasure when they stick it in something, and god knows they will not give a shit about the person below them (look at fucking nature documentaries!!!). they will take off the condom. they will pressure ppl to do anal or give painful blowjobs. they will be creeps or jerks about pregnancy. they will generally put penises above vaginas and amab rights over afab rights, and this shit is DEEPLY ingrained in society. transfems being able to transition is very new, meaning that although they had many struggles before, they were not treated as female and had that (perhaps painful) privilege for MOST of human history. this meant being allowed to open a bank, go places without a husband, not being forced to be impregnated like cattle, not being forced to be a mother stuck in a kitchen, and having SOOO much more generational wealth at their disposal. afab ppl reading abt historical afab oppression is upsetting in a way that transfems will never fully be able to relate to. afab people have a deep, rich, unique culture and faced trauma for thousands of years and us being afab is not a privilege!! we have the privilege of not understanding transfem issues, sure, like a woman not being a lesbian won't face lesbophobia. but then again male-attracted women face violence from men in a unique way!! it's complex af when you're already marginalized

most ppl have an agab-based sexuality too, cis men included, meaning afab ppl are the ONLY *INTENDED* target of cis men's lust and sexual violence and whatever misogynistic bs they say about women, since most cis men are heterosexual. amab ppl face it, and it fucking sucks for them too, but they also only face it conditionally - the very second the cis guy realizes the person is amab, the usual trope is them throwing up thinking back on how they kissed and wanting to punch the "crossdressing pervert" EVEN if the transfem had every surgery possible and looked totally afab. they lose attraction, usually anyway, and physical violence linked to homophobia and gncphobia is the danger transfems then risk. which ofc is absolutely horrible, it can be life-ruining. but not an afabmisogyny experience. they aren't unconditionally sexualized. they are mistaken for afab due to all the surgeries and hormones they took. it's misdirected afabmisogyny due to ppl assuming they were born with a vagina and went thru afab puberty. and then harming them bc they see afab ppl as sex objects and dumb bitches, they see us being born and raised afab as a weakness. they hate us and want us for our sex/agab. most misogyny is about specifically afab people! and yes transmisogyny sucks, it should be called out too for sure. but when fem transmascs pass as transfem post-transition they always are open about experiencing misdirected transmisogyny and talking abt transfem rights etc etc. why can't transfems do the same with cis women and transmascs?? why can't they talk abt how transmisogyny & misogyny against cis women are both bad in different ways? it's always them being victims vs those evil privileged bitches!!

and not just quickly mention it but ACTUALLY speak up about it, uplift afab voices, and be genuinely good afab allies? where are the posts from transfems calling out transfems' afabmisogyny? why can't transmascs or cis women write posts abt it without being met by death threats and terf accusations? i know you think you can only further transandrophobia discussions by tiptoing around the existence of afab-exclusive misogyny. i know talking abt transmasc-unique issues already leads to insane amounts of bullying from afab & transfem folks. but i'm tired of transfems getting away with shitty behavior. i'm tired of cis women being only seen as oppressors against transfems. something needs to change. i truly believe that radfeminism isn't a lost cause, and in fact there are more and more transmasc radfems, and even transfems who are strong radfem allies. people are finally waking up to the realities of afab oppression!! they're finally embracing nuance!

misogynistic behavior from transfems gets brushed under the rug and them being amab is seen as completely irrelevant, anyone bringing it up is a bigot, while afab folks are more than open to their agab being a factor in conflict... it's unfair. as you've shown, transfems and the ppl speaking for them refuse to have nuanced talks abt afab oppression, they view it as "omg we're all oppressed!! shut the fuck up theyfab go bootlick those privileged cis cunts! no one wants to hear about your issues for longer than a minute, only listen to MINE!! being afab is a PRIVILEGE i didn't get to grow up afab stop rubbing it in my face!!!" what sucks is that transfems and transfem allies used to be soooo much more respectful of cis women and transmasc people's rights too. literally NO ONE used to say that being afab genuinely meant you got benefits in society. no one. like holy fucking shit. the past 20 years has been a fever dream!!!

i'm 100% for transfems living their best lives, transition included, and i've heard many horror stories of transfem-specific experiences i'll never truly understand. but it's not a strict oppressor/oppressed dynamic all the time. just because you're not oppressed on every axis of oppression ever doesn't mean you have no struggles. it's fucking insane that i keep needing to explain that to people, like oh my god do y'all not understand that someone can be both privileged and disprivileged in society in different ways, and might need to both have their voices boosted sometimes and ALSO need to take a back seat other times??? this ain't us cis radfems OR transandrophobia activists just playing oppression olympics. this is an oppressed group talking abt their unique struggles and being mocked to hell and back. and it's sad that it's seen as catty and selfish and bitchy. but as an afab woman i'm not surprised lmao.

and yeah you might speak on transmasc issues, but do you speak on afab rights? do you call out misogynistic bullshit that transfems say about cis women too? do you speak on cis women's oppression as well, about how they're oppressed by amab people too and are oppressed in a different way than transmasc or transfem folks, for being afab and ALSO identifying as women? do you mention how afab people are a uniquely oppressed class of people, or are you too scared of stepping on transfem toes bc they're seen as the top of the oppression pyramid and will harass you off the site?? why is saying that amab people as a class have privilege over afab folks on an oppression axis controversial? what about that feels like an attack?

if you're transfem or otherwise are amab and live perceived as afab, and you aren't afraid to recognize that afab oppression is its own thing and deserves its own voice and its own movement, ily bestie. i see you. i see more and more of you lately and it warms my heart. we aren't enemies, we can learn from eachother. thank you for working thru that initial knee-jerk reaction and learning to be a good ally to afab folks. i wish you the best <3 and if you're transmasc you DESERVE to have your voice heard too. you deserve to speak on afab rights and for transfems to want to be good allies to you too!! ALL afab people have unique voices that need to be heard for once!

#asks #this was long af sorry i went off lol #i understand your pov anon bc i had it even just a few years ago i was overprotective of transfems #i acted like afab ppl had talked enough and should stfu like they were the lowest bar of oppressed in society #that transfems had it worse by default and any talk of afab rights would make them dysphoric esp if transfems weren't centered #but EVEN THEN even when transfems are mentioned in afab-specific issues they STILL get mad #it isn't an amab/afab oppression olympics thing #and it's so childish of you to draw that conclusion #but it makes sense bc it's the current sentiment in trans spaces. any talk of afab-only issues makes ppl uncomfortable #any talk of transfems not only being the oppressed but also the oppressor class on a different axis makes ppl foam at the mouth #meanwhile afab ppl in general are more than happy to recognize they're privileged on another axis of oppression generally #why is that?#i'm tempted to say amab upbringing (and afab upbringing making ppl want to shield others at all costs esp amab ppl)#but i know now that i said it ppl will be even MORE pissed off #idk. i'm so glad i started recognizing my own afab oppression as mattering too. that thing where women are seen as talking so much more #than men even though if they talked the same amount? yeah. that still impacts things like this lol. identity doesn't change that #idk. respect one another and give equal space to all marginalized folks. simple easy and free!! and yet!!!#lay text #my words #radblr

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