#and how they were kept in the dark about children that were 'adopted out' in recent decades (they were actually being sold to the crows)

[ghostwise]

During my weeks with covid I wasn't getting much done, but I'm finally feeling well enough to catch up on these :) Tagged for wip-whenever by @scionshtola @lavampira and @creaking-skull!

Thanks friends 💖💖

I'll tag @sunshinemage @s1ithers @ruushes if you're up for it 💖 I am not sure who is or isn't tagged so if you have something to share please consider this a tag!

I'm feeling more comfortable with the decision to add the Adelmar visit to QDT (now titled Matacuervos). It's giving me a chance to delve more into that subplot, and in doing so it's tying more closely to the overall plot. Here's a little peek at some very raw writing from it.

-

The sounds of the brothel floated in through the open door, and Zevran sat in his chair, impassive. He raised a brow, but otherwise did not react to her gesture. Truth be told, he had no idea what to say. He hadn’t expected to be met with so much resistance, and his intuition was telling him there was some reason why Amilcar was desperate to get him gone. But the thought was interrupted as a familiar voice floated through the door.

“Husband?”

Hamal had evidently grown tired of waiting out on the street. With a smile, he sidled in through the door, amidst a background chorus of delighted exclamations from the patrons and employees nearby.

“Husband!?” Amilcar repeated, scandalized.

Hamal simply smiled at her. “Very little Antivan, sorry,” he said awkwardly. “Everything good?”

“I was simply,” Sra. Amilcar said, her voice terse and jumping from syllable to syllable, “Telling your husband that, unfortunately, we cannot accommodate his request.”

Zevran, still seated in the same spot, glanced between Hamal and Sra. Amilcar. Part of him was mortified at the tone the woman was taking with Hamal. Part of him was desperately curious to see how Hamal would handle it, though, so he remained silent, making himself at home in the discomfort.

“Ohh,” Hamal said, and then repeated, “Sorry! Very little Antivan, very bad.”

With that, he stepped close enough to wrap an arm around Zevran with a grin.

“We are married! On honeymoon. I will pay everything. Is good. We are honeymoon! A gift!”

He pressed a kiss to Zevran’s cheek. By now, the discussion had drawn the attention of others, who erupted into cheers at the declaration. Zevran could no longer hold it back; he burst out laughing, under Hamal’s confidence and attention, and the way the prostitutes shouted encouragement and praise. What a doting husband! What a thoughtful gesture! Were they open to adding a third?

Sra. Amilcar had grown quite pale. Swaying a bit on her feet, she seemed to steel herself before taking a deep breath and shouting, “I will call the city guard if you do not leave, NOW!”

[battymommastuff]

The Fire-Eater

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

*cough*

"Jesus Christ, you'd think they would dust up here once in a while." Jason rasps as he waves his hand in the air to clear the cloud of dust. Dick just rolled his eyes and lifted another box out of the way, causing another cloud of dust to poof into the air, "Where is this damn blanket anyway?" He asked, ripping open an old box to look for the blanket in question. Why? You, their adopted mother, is currently carrying their youngest sibling. The first, and only pregnancy of yours. Seeing that you aren't as young as you used to be, the pregnancy is a high risk. As per doctor's orders, you were to remain on bed rest now that you were close to your due date.

Before that, you'd been working on the nursery. Everything was perfect, but you were missing one thing. Bruce's baby blanket. A blanket you'd only ever seen in pictures, but knew that you wanted it for your future child. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be possible. All of your children were far too old for the blanket when they were adopted. Now you had your baby on the way, and you wanted that blanket. To prevent you from climbing up there yourself, your two oldest sons decided to.

"Some of the boxes are older than me." Dick joked as he held up a box of old photo albums. The date on the box was ten years before he was born. He set the box down, and kept shifting through the boxes. They were looking for a box with Bruce's birth year on it. All of his baby items were stored there. He moved another box then frowned when he saw one tucked in a far corner. It was opened, and he saw a black outfit lined with red sequins, an outfit he swore he's seen before...a circus outfit. What caught his eye next was a rolled up poster, "Hey, Jason." He called out while picking up the poster. Dick unrolled it slowly, then felt his heart sink to his stomach.

A poster for Haly's Circus. The Circus he was apart of before his biological parents died. He still remembered that day as if it just happened. On the poster was a woman eating fire. Her outfit, a black leotard with red sequins lining it. (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin. Unless Bruce had a certain type, there was no way it couldn't be you. How? How was this possible? He remembered meeting you that night. You were dressed as if you just walked out of business meeting, and you were with Bruce. The date on the poster dated years before you ever met Bruce.

Dick set the poster down right as Jason approached him, still grumbling about all of the dust. He picked up a small book next. Opening it, he found pictures. Old pictures of you, and other members of the circus. You and Haly...you and his parents. You knew his parents? One picture was of you, his dad, his mom, and him as a newborn. You knew who he was before you ever met him? How come he never knew this? Why did you leave the circus? How did you end up marrying Bruce Wayne of all people?

"Holy shit, Mom never told us this." Jason said while holding up the torches and an old bottle of alcohol. What they saw in the bottom of the box made both of their spines tingle. A mask...a Court of the Owls mask. Dick knew the story, and he knew his lineage. He knew his potential fate, had he never been adopted. Why did you have a mask? All of these questions in his head, and he knew the one person who could answer them.

He shoved all the items back into the box, and stormed out of the attic with it. Dick wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He carried the box through the manor with Jason on his heels, while holding back his tears. He felt lied to? Betrayed? He didn't know, but he needed to know. He felt like you were an entirely new person now. Dick opened the door to your bedroom. You were watching as Stephanie painted your toenails, and Damian was lecturing you on your health.

"Oh! Did you-..." You cut off when you saw the box he was carrying. It'd been years, and you forgot about that box. Honestly, you thought you threw it out, "Dick..." Your oldest son walked over and slammed the box on the bed, causing your two other sons and Stephanie to glare at him.

"Start talking, Mom...right now."

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Most iconic Xie Lian moments according to me

Contains spoilers!!!

"Xie Lian didn't know whether to laugh or cry"

Keeping every memento of his worst time ever as a reminder of why being kind and forgiving is worth it

When he runs off after he gives Hua Cheng CPR that one time pretending he's looking for his hat

When he keeps roasting Xiao Ying's looks even as she's dying

When he was a prince and he was told his future looked dark and he said that can't be cause he only wears white

Eating food off the ground

Building his own temple, we love a girl boss

When he pet E'Ming like a little puppy after being explicitly told not to ever touch it under any circumstances

Putting Banyue in a pickle jar

When Wuming said he would follow Xie Lian to the death and Xie Lian went "youre already dead"

Breaking rocks on his chest for money

Being trampled to death as general Hua, doormat core

The whole Fangxin Guoshi arc, whew 🥵

Carrying around a big ass bag of scraps everywhere

When he became jealous of Hua Cheng's special someone not realizing the very obvious fact that he was Hua Cheng's special someone actually

Slapping tf out of Qi Rong for making fun of Hua Cheng being blind in one eye

Pretending he had no idea who Nan Feng and Fu Yao were

When Mu Qing and Feng Xin were freaking about how creepy the Ten Thousands Gods Cave was whilst he found it incredibly romantic

Being a bit too into pretending to be Hua Cheng's puppet on Mount Tonglu

Feeding into E'Ming's praise kink

When he disguised himself as a pregnant lady to be possessed by the evil fetus spirit and it worked

When he disguised himself as a woman so badly he looked hideous and needed help to not look like that

When he spent the entirety of the Xuan Ji capturing business in his wedding dress disguise, including meeting Pei Xiu like that

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts-

When his response to the sex pollen was to kill himself

"I do not worship god, i am god!"

Every single sweet and tender interaction with Hua Cheng's butterflies that everyone else is terrified of

When everyone ignored him in the communication array because he was cringe

Getting drunk on a tombstone with little ghost fire Hua Cueng after his life fell apart

Controversial but i think his calamity era was also iconic and very sexy

When Heaven's Eye said his lips are exuding evil energy and he turned bright red

And then later when Heaven's Eye said the evil energy is inside him and he immediately changed the subject

Recognizing literally everyone despite their disguises but keeping quiet about it not to embarrass them.

Calling Yin Yu boring and forgettable looking to his face

Defending Hua Cheng, evil ghost king, in front of the whole entire Heavenly Emperor

When he was working in the rice field with Hua Cheng and he kept staring

Being poor

Having ridiculously bad luck

Ascending three times

Big daddy issues even with his dad still alive

When his life had just fallen apart and he didnt know how much a lantern could cost because he had been ridiculously rich all his life

Holding up a massive temple from falling apart???

Kissing Hua Cheng for spiritual energy in front of literally everyone more than once

When he could hear rats talking???

Adopting children

Not iconic Xie Lian behaviors

His abhorrent cooking

Trying to kill himself???

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 08

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

Tw: dead animal and copious amounts of blood

…

“Welcome to The Umbrella Academy, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero, get up.”

“Go to your room Number Zero.”

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero! Come here.”

“Stop crying Number Zero.”

“You aren’t a baby Number Zero.”

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

Phrases I've heard Reginald say time and time again. I hated that girl Number Zero, whoever she was.

My name is Y/n L/n, and Reginald Hargreeves knew that. But I hated him too because he made me like this. A freak of nature and it was clear he hated me too.

Not once would you ever hear praise and the words ‘Number Zero’ in the same sentence.

So I never understood why he adopted me if he couldn’t stand the sight of me. But deep down I knew why, it was the same reason why he adopted all of us children he needed our powers not us.

He would make me do whatever he wanted without concern or consequence. And nobody would dare tell him no, cause he did the same thing to everyone else around him.

I slept on the cold table for what felt like years, as my mind drifted to days I'd like to forget.

..

17 YEARS AGO

I stood alone in the middle of an unfamiliar room anxious for what was to come. There was no furniture or even windows except for a small wooden desk, and the only glow in said room came from the desk lamp.

Today was my first day of training, Reginald explained to me. And I was a scared twelve-year-old who’d just arrived at the Academy.

He stood in front of me, stopwatch in his bony hand. But he wasn't the only person in the room. There was another man I did not know, and all I can remember about him was how tall he was.

“Begin.”

My stance was shaky as a withering tree when Reginald uttered those words. I didn't know what to do, I just kept standing there. But the man didn't.

He inched closer and closer so I moved back, extremely terrified when it clicked in my head what the man was about to do.

“Do it.”

The man’s steps wavered, but he followed instructions. He raised the gun in his right hand and he shot me.

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun made the room shake and my screaming body instantly hit the cold wooden floor.

Then I heard the stopwatch start.

The bullet hit me directly in the heart. The man must've been some type of trained killer because of the way he would hit me with great accuracy each time. As expected I was still conscious but too scared to move, so I sat there paralyzed and cried. I cried because It hurt. I cried for my mother. I cried because that was all I could do.

Nobody in the room moved; they were waiting for the thing to happen.

And they didn't have to wait that long. At first, it felt like gears were turning in my head. But from the perspective of Reginald the somewhat dark room was illuminated by the swirls of bright light coming from my chest. Then I could move my feet and fingers and I could blink.

I sat upwards from my uncomfortable position as the bullet that had just been in me popped back out. And the spilled blood surrounding my body reversed back into my chest as well as my old bullet wound was completely healed.

I was as good as new.

“Again.”

..

“Number Zero, get up.”

Every day felt like a constant battle. I was beaten, mangled and killed every single day in new sick ways that he came up with.

“We have a lot to work on, Number Zero. You have missed years of training already. You cannot play anymore.”

I went to bed everyday yearning for it to be over but I kept coming back each day for more. I learned to fight from getting my ass kicked. He tested my durability and timed me, by telling me to break my bones and rip off body parts, just to see how long it would take for them to heal.

“You need to be better, Number Zero.”

“I'm trying!” I screamed but it fell on deaf ears. I'd never fought anyone before, he expected everything to be engraved in my head by day five. And when it wasn't he started taking things away.

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

..

I was angry. I threw tantrums, destroyed my room and hurt myself. Which never mattered to him.

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

By thirteen I did what I had to but I tuned the world out. My thought process was whatever happened to me just happens and I'll always be okay.

He turned me into a shell of my past self. Who could kill whoever he needed and get back up whenever pushed down. And I don’t think anybody knew the extent my private lessons were going and I wasn't going to tell them either way.

..

“Number Zero! Come here.”

It wasn't only myself I had to heal, he tried to have me heal others too.

I'd found myself again in the same room where I was first trained. This time accompanied by a dog, I don’t remember what breed he was but he was cute and fluffy and I wished I could keep him.

The same man from before with the same gun stood against the wall.

“Begin.”

The dog was let off his leash and ran towards me. He licked my face, he wanted to play, he was a nice dog.

My happiness didn't last for long, because the man got off the wall and headed towards us. I hugged the small dog hoping that if I held him hard enough he wouldn't do what he was assigned. But that man always followed instructions.

“Do it.”

The fluffy dog was taken out of my arms. He barked in protest and tried to run back over to me but he never made it. He was shot right in his stomach. I burst into tears, trying to run out of the room.

“Stop crying Number Zero. You aren’t a baby.”

Reginald grabbed me and made me face the dying dog. He threw me towards him yelling a command.

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

I tried, I honestly did, but I couldn’t do it. No one told me how he just expected me to know how to heal the dog. I've only healed my mother and I wasn't even sure how I did that.

My hands were covered in the dog's blood as I sobbed. I thought if I just thought about it hard it would happen, and yes my hands did flicker but the dog still laid there dead.

“I can’t,” I whispered

I wanted to save that dog. I looked up at the disappointed Reginald, not knowing what to do.

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

The dog's life force was officially gone. He was the first thing I let die.

I screamed and kicked trying to get my hands back on the dog but I was dragged out of the room.

“Mission one failed,” Reginald said out loud while writing in his book.

..

PRESENT DAY

“Miss Y/n, are you listening?” The ape snapped his fingers in front of my dazed face. I was still on the table in the operations room, and judging by Pogo’s restlessness I'd been here for a while.

I gasped while grabbing onto my head, which still felt partially bashed in. “How long have I been here for?” I asked him.

Pogo’s hairy hands went into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a tiny pocket watch. “Well, Master Diego dropped you off here around Nine pm yesterday and now it’s about a quarter till Nine am. Almost Ten hours Miss Y/n.”

“Ten hours and my head hasn’t healed yet?” My clasped hands moved from my head to my hair as I tugged and worried. “What’s going on with me, a—are my powers not working??” I started to hyperventilate. Without these powers, I'm sure that I’ll succumb to my injuries and die.

The ape shook his head. “Your powers are working just fine, don’t worry my dear. I've been here ever since Master Diego found me and told me of the situation. Your head is healing, yes, but very slowly.”

I didn’t want this to be the end, there was still so much I could do, but then again I've never actually put any thought into how it would go.

Being bludgeoned by a man with a kid’s mask on is not how I'm leaving this world.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves just as Vanya taught me a while back. Oh shit. “Where’s Vanya?”

Pogo looks away from me. “After the attack on the academy yesterday, your other siblings minus Master Luther deemed it was too risky for her to stay. Because she cannot protect herself like the rest of you..”

“They kicked her out?” I begrudgingly stood up from my seat. “Why do they always do that? I saved her. It's okay now, and she would’ve never gotten hurt if she wasn't looking for me.”

“Miss Y/n please, I don't advise you to leave you aren’t healed. Please sit back down, you can find her later.” He was right, even just standing up took the wind out of me.

Maybe my age was finally catching up with me and this is how my life will continue. I took a seat back down as I finally registered what I was wearing by looking down, I no longer had my jacket. Just jeans and my black shirt.

“Oh! I think Master Diego hung up your jacket back in your bedroom.” Pogo said, sensing my confusion. “It’s a miracle that thing had no blood on it or tears, I know how much that jacket means to you.”

“That’s very nice of him? I didn't know he had it in him.”

“Of course my dear, everyone worries for you. You always took beating after beating with no repercussions. It always amazed me. That being said, you need to be careful.” He explains.

I scratch at my freezing skin. “What?”

“Because you need to take it easy, yes you are formidable but that doesn’t mean you can go around just injuring yourself.” The monkey's accent enunciated every word.

I laugh. “Reginald used to think so.” Pogo stops mid-thought at the mention of him. He looks at me with sorrow in his big eyes. “Never mind that.” He says boldly.

“You took lots of hits yesterday even before getting your head caved in. Other areas of your body heal faster but the brain is such a febrile thing. You need your brain to be able to connect with your powers, being shot once is one thing. But being hit with such intenseness, you're glad your brain was still able to do it. Other times in the future you won't be as lucky, my girl.”

Thank God I stayed awake. No literally thank God, whatever grass field I woke up in felt like death.

“Stay here for maybe five more hours and it should be healed.”

My tense body shivers as I speak up. “Pogo I can’t wait that long, who knows what I missed I need to get back out there.”

“No, I’m prescribing you to stay here and heal your injury.” The short man said.

“Vanya has been kicked out, people just attacked our house, I haven’t seen Klaus and Five forever and who knows what the idiot patrol is going to do next!” I ramble while on my fingers everything that's been going on recently.

He looks up at my disgruntled figure.

“Pogo, please.”

He sighs. “There is a slight alternative, however, it's never been tested and is probably quite painful.” Pogo turns from me to rummage in a few shelves.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I'm afraid you're not going to be happy when you figure out what it is, Miss Y/n.” He yelled from the other side of the room. “I'm sure I've heard worse, Pogo.”

The man returns with an old wooden box covered in small detailed vines. “Your father was always worried that any moment could be your last. For example, If you were too weak to activate your powers or didn’t on purpose.”

“Once you were around fourteen, he started to work on your blood by gathering samples. He did things to alter the samples to create the perfect healing serum or just a boost for your powers.”

I told Pogo I'd be ready for any news but this had been terrifying. “When did he have time to even do that?”

“All of your checkups here in the operations room.” Pogo tilts his head down. “That’s when he would take samples.”

“That is so fucked.” I yell. “How could I have never suspected something was happening when I would be in here almost every day?”

“None of this is your fault, your father just wanted to make sure you're safe. Even if his measures were a bit forward.”

I shake my head at him. “Pogo, this wasn't out of love at all, don't you realize he only did this because he needed me for his purpose? So that I couldn’t get free of this. He only needed me alive for my powers, not because he cared.”

“I assure you your father meant well, somewhere in his heart. But now is the time to use it to speed up the process of your head healing.” Pogo lifts open the top of the box revealing a velvet inside. And rows and rows of tiny indents in the velvet that held little vials of liquid. This liquid looked exactly like my powers, even though it was made out of my normal-colored blood.

It makes me shudder thinking about what he did to it, and me. But I know I had to get it done if I wanted to get out of here. “Okay, so we just inject it into my arm? And I walk out of here after?”

“Not exactly..” says Pogo. “We don't know what could happen, it’s never been tested on anyone. But my best guess is to inject it right into the injury so it will spread there.”

“You mean you're going to stick a needle into my head?” I look at him in horror.

“Why yes, unless you want to take my instructions to wait here for five hours.”

“Grab the needle.”

..

After a bunch of hesitance and worrying Pogo had me lay down on the table fully. He walked up to my indented head with the syringe and without warning stuck it in my head. “Pogo!” I cry out.

The ape didn't respond, instead, he put the box back on the shelf where he got it. “How do you feel?” He asked.

At this point I didn't feel anything different from the splitting headache my broken head was giving me. “I feel the same-“

Then it started to hit me. It felt like a mix of adrenaline and crack all at once.

My powers shined around my head, the healing felt like it was moving faster than I could compute it. It made my body feel like it was on fire, and I signaled that to the ape by screaming out in pain. But it didn't last long because like I said, my powers were moving fast. I blinked and my head felt as good as new.

Pogo stared at me in shock at the display he just watched. “It’s a miracle!” He grins. “How did it feel?”

My eyes darted across the room trying to put into words, outside of my head, how the sensation felt.

“Well I wouldn't recommend it, but it got the job done. Hopefully, I never have to take that again. But thank you Pogo” I reply standing up while my wobbly legs try to position themselves correctly.

“I need to do something that's going to contribute. Either find Five or Vanya or talk to everyone else.” I mutter under my breath.

He stuttered wanting to say more and try to convince me any way he could but my path to the door was clear.

“Thanks again, Pogo!” I shouted over my shoulder. I wasn't even sure how the rest of the mansion would look after the attack, I just wished everyone was okay.

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[kywaslost]

Good day! Could you make a Ciel x reader where the Ciel has a crush on the reader who is Lizzy’s sister (for the sake lest say Lizzy and Ciel ended to engagement) the thing is the reader is the only one in the Midford family to have dark hair (from a grandparent) and she gets very insecure about it, feeling like a black sheep in her family. Lizzy and everyone is very kind to her it’s just she constantly feels left out because she has a very different personality compared to her sister and brother. She feels very out of place during photo’s with her family. And especially during parties when people talk about her either being adopted or the cause of her mother being unfaithful. She just is naturally much more moody, and she doesn’t have as many friends unlike Lizzy because she just brings the mood down.

Sorry if it’s a lot, have a good day!

Odd One Out - Ciel Phantomhive

A/N: I decided to post this one a day early! I only have one class today and have a lot of free time at the moment. So sorry this took so long!

Not gonna lie, I had to do some research for this one. I’m a sucker for genetics, and so I got super excited for this one. Blonde hair is an autosomal recessive trait, meaning both parents have to be blond. Since both Midford parents are blonde, all of their children have to be blonde, that’s how I learned it. But I did some research to see if there’s mutations or something that can cause dark hair in children born from two blondes. I’ll try my best to simplify what I’ve found. 

Melanin is a polymer, and it is most often known as the polymer that gives skin, hair, and eyes its color. By what I can understand, there are two types of melanin: eumelanin and pheomelanin. Lots of eumelanin produces black or brown hair, whereas pheomelanin produces red hair. Blonde hair is produced by very little eumelanin. Melanocortin 1 Receptor (MC1R) is responsible for determining hair color. Mutations in the MC1R gene can cause red or auburn hair. 

For the sake of this fanfic, let’s just say there’s a mutation in the reader’s production of eumelanin cause I can’t find any way for two blonds to produce a dark-haired kiddo. And yes, I know this is a fanfic but listen people my love for science is strong so fiction or not I’m gonna make my details as accurate as possible. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and here are my sources <3

You were the black sheep of the family in every way possible. Literal or not, others found great joy in pointing out every difference between you and your siblings, especially when it comes to your appearance. It’s difficult to explain to others why you bear little resemblance to your family. Sure, you had your mother’s build and your father’s eyes, but that was as far as it went. You didn’t have the same hair color as your parents and siblings.

It’s common knowledge that two blonde parents bear a blonde child, yet you had dark auburn hair. After years and years of torment and rumors of your mother being unfaithful, or that you were adopted, you began researching why you were the way you were. There wasn’t much out there, but you did discover that you had some type of genetic mutation dealing with hair color. That’s why it was so difficult to explain to others why your hair was so different from your family’s, they didn’t have the same extent of knowledge as you did. 

It didn’t help that you were also extremely different personality wise. Your sister Lizzy was very outgoing and extroverted, never hesitating to host parties or to meet new people. Your brother Edward, on the other hand, was very stoic and serious. He didn’t tolerate much of anything, and was very protective over you and your sister. But you weren’t much like your siblings. You often kept to yourself, only spoke when spoken to, and were generally just very independent. Growing up, the only real friends you had were your siblings, and your twin cousins.

Now that you’re older, you are even more independent. You spent less and less time with your family, often opting to stay in your room or going off on your own into the city. Your family constantly tried to get you to go to events with them, such as going to balls, parties, and even things as simple as family outings, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place. People constantly stared at you, and you couldn’t help but notice their hushed whispers as you walked by with your family. 

You were grateful that your family didn’t see you the same way the rest of the world did. Your parents treated you no differently than your sister and brother. If anything, they tried their hardest with you to try and make you feel more comfortable and confident in yourself. Lizzy constantly wanted to be with you, doing your hair and makeup to spend some quality time with you. She took you dress shopping, and tried to cheer you up in that sort of way. 

Because of your discomfort around your family, you often spent a lot of time with your cousin Ciel. His servants never treated you any differently than they did the rest of your family, and the boy’s Estate overall felt like a safe place for you. Ciel was always willing to let you vent to him, whether it be about how people had been treating you or how you were thinking of yourself, he always had advice to offer. 

What he never would confess, however, was his feelings for you. His engagement with Lizzy ended just over a year ago, and it was all because he realized he had feelings for you instead. Watching you change throughout the years broke his heart, how you became more independent and less willing to socialize and go out. 

You were staying a few nights at the manor to spend some time with Ciel. You had been having a particularly hard time, and you thought it best to spend some time with the boy. He greeted you with open arms, and immediately ordered Sebastian to prepare your favorite meal for dinner. You fell into your cousin’s arms, tearing up as he held you tightly. 

“May I ask what brings you here?” CIel asks calmly as he hugs you. He can feel your tears soaking into his shirt and he becomes even more worried. 

You sniffed as you pulled away from Ciel, wiping at your eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a really long week.”

Ciel frowned, gently taking your arm and leading you inside. “Come, tell me about it.” You were led inside the Estate and to the sofa beside the fireplace. Ciel draped a light blanket over your shoulders as he sat beside you. Taking your hand in his, his blue eye met your E/C ones. “What happened?”

You began to cry harder as you recalled the events of the past week. Ciel listened as you told him about the hushed whispers and not-so-hidden stares followed your every move at a ball you attended with your family. Then how you stepped out of your comfort zone to speak to girls your own age at said ball, and how they giggled to each other as they ignored you and walked away.

Ciel wrapped you tightly in a hug, pulling you so your legs are draped over his lap and your face is buried in his shoulder. “Look at this,” you sniffle, reaching for your bag at the end of the couch. Ciel released you from his arms as you dug through your bag, pulling out a photo. You replaced yourself on CIel’s lap, handing him the photo. His warm hands brushed against your own as he took the image.

“This is a lovely photo,” he smiled softly. It was a printed image of the most recent family photo taken three days ago. Your father held your mother’s waist, Edward on his other side and Lizzy standing beside your mom. You were beside your sister. Ciel was right, it was a lovely photo. But the longer he looked at it, he noticed everyone’s bright smiles, and then you. It looked as if you were near tears, barely able to hold your smile long enough to take the photo.

“Honey,” Ciel coos quietly. This was very uncharacteristic of the Earl. He never showed this much empathy and emotion towards someone before.

“I hate this photo,” you cried as you rested your head on his shoulder once again.

“Why?”

“I look so out of place!” You pointed to yourself in the picture. “I hate that I was born this way! Why did I have to have this mutation?”

Ciel set the picture aside, wrapping you in his arms again and running a hand down your back. “I think you’re beautiful,” his voice was soft as he whispered in your ear. “Genetic mutation or not, I love the way you look, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.” CIel continued to hold you until you fell asleep in his arms. As he carried you to your designated room, he whispered to you. 

“I don’t understand why others treat you this way, and I wish they would stop just as much as you do. But I love you, Y/N, and I would give everything to have you in my life. Genetic mutation or not, you are beautiful just the way you are.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {1}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: You ease yourself into Max's life for a job but find it harder to leave than planned. Warnings: criminal activities WC: 2.6k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two

Formula one wasn’t just an expensive sport to race in but it was first and foremost a lucrative business. With hundreds of millions of dollars being invested each year it was no surprise that your services were sought. 

The hooded figure slid a file across the table, the crumbs and sticky residue of beer catching on the cover. “This is the target,” he whispered over the noise of the drunkards left in the bar at this late hour. “Everything we have on him is in there, use it to get close and get into their factory.”

“Why waste time with a relationship?” you questioned as you opened the file and saw the headshot of your target. Not someone you would call classically handsome but there was an appeal to him nonetheless. “Why don’t I just apply for an entry level job and this will be done in a week?”

“For my employer, this isn’t just about their technology, they want his spirit broken too.” He jabbed an angry finger at the portrait.

“Ah,” you chuckled as you closed the file and slipped it into your handbag before rising from the dark booth, “psychological warfare, that I can understand.”

“How do we reach you again?” the stranger asked as he made to follow but you held your hand out for him to stop.

“You don’t, our contact ends here. You know my fee, and you will know when the job is complete.”

“How?”

You rolled your eyes at the stupid the question. “Front page headline, of course.”

There was no denying Monaco was beautiful, but you missed your high rise apartment in New York. The birds eye view of Central Park had become home and it was where you spent most of your time. Corporate espionage was always in demand on Wall Street so it was convenient to live close by despite owning properties all over the world. 

You had spent a week researching your target, reading every article and watching every interview. You knew his mannerisms and his values, what features his ex-girlfriends all shared and why they broke up. You knew his entire history, all so you could manipulate his future. 

Once you had learned everything there was to know about him you had tracked him down to Monaco where he was spending a large portion of the winter season off. That was where the real work began.

Any wig was irritating, no matter how expensive it was, and this was no different as you suppressed the urge to touch the dried glue along the hairline. Up ahead, the target kept pausing on his walk to sign a few autographs and let children have a photo taken with him. 

Unbeknownst to him, all the posters and adverts along the street had been subtly changed so the models held small semblances to you. He wouldn’t actively notice them, but his subconscious would. Over the next week, his brain would recognise your features selling products he was familiar with and trusted, something you were going to use to your advantage when you finally decided to cross paths with him. 

As midnight passed you took a little stroll through the streets lined with mansions and pulled out a tin of cat food. The crinkling of the foil tearing open broke the relatively quiet night in the exclusive community and a few curious cats appeared through the perfectly trimmed hedges. You softly called two Bengals closer, nudging the others aside, before giving them a scratch behind their ears as you put the tin on the ground and earned their trust too. 

“I have a little friend for you,” you whispered as they finished the food and rubbed against your leg, purring happily. You reached into the pouch of your oversized hoodie and carefully woke the kitten you had adopted. He released a small mew at being disturbed but when he noticed the company around him he started to nuzzle around them. “That’s it, get nice and acquainted.”

The lady at the animal shelter had promised that the little guy had come from a big litter and was very friendly around other cats so you were glad she was right as you picked up the rubbish and tossed it in a nearby bin. Giving the trio one last scratch, you lingered on the tabby with a whisper, “I’ll see you soon, Achilles.”

You left the neighbourhood after slotting a missing cat poster with your phone number into the mailboxes along the street and as the three animals disappeared into the hedge together you hoped it wouldn’t be too long before your phone rang. “Bye Sassy, bye Jimmy.”

You were going out of your mind as you lounged around the house waiting. You checked your phone a handful of times per minute, even testing it was working with your burner phone once an hour. It was only as the sun began to set on the second day that the ringtone sang out over the news channel relaying the latest stock market figures. 

You took a deep breath, falling into the character of your alias as you saw the unknown number on the caller ID. “Hello?” You had to hide your grin as you perfected the balance of worry and hope in your voice.

“Uh, hi, is this Madilyn?” a man asked, the Dutch accent one you were familiar with after all the videos you had watched of him. “Your kitten is missing?”

“That’s me, please tell me you have some good news,” you begged softly, pitifully. 

He laughed quietly and you could hear purring close to the phone. “I think he found his way into my home somehow. He is very friendly.”

“I’m so sorry,” you grabbed your keys and helmet off the kitchen side, slamming the door loudly as you left. “We just moved here and I must have left a window open. Where are you so I can come and pick him up?”

He gave you his address and you rushed to thank him before ending the call and throwing your leg over the motorbike you had recently brought, all added to the bill of your latest employer. The roar of the engine drew the attention of the pedestrians out for an evening walk as you raced through the narrow streets and you arrived in his neighbourhood in under a minute.

The wrought iron gate was closed when you pulled up but the front curtain inside the mansion swayed as a dark figure peeked out before it started to swing open. 

By the time you pulled your helmet off and hung it on the handlebars he had already opened the door and you skipped up the steps excited by the sight of Achilles tucked in the crook of his arm. Lights from inside the home spilled out onto the front porch as Jimmy and Sassy padded their way out, brushing up against your shins.

“He looks so cosy,” you said sheepishly as you went to reach for the sleeping Achilles only to pause and pull back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” 

“Max.” He offered his hand instead and you shook it weakly before crouching down to pet his cats. “They like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you said with a smile as you looked up at him and found him staring back intently. “Do I have helmet hair?”

You rushed to your feet, brushing down the strands that might have been messed up and windblown but he shook his head with a small smile. “You look familiar, have we met?”

You stepped closer with a small shake of your head and ran your fingers through Achilles fur, your arm brushing against Max innocently. His eyes followed your touch and you could see him taking the bait like a starving fish, not knowing how close he was to the hook.

“I would definitely remember meeting you,” you said as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away only for them to land on your motorbike. “Is that a Softail?”

“He has a good eye,” you praised as he recognised the same model Harley Davidson as the one he owned. “Do you ride?”

“Not as much as I would like. Unfortunately my one is back home in the Netherlands.”

“I owe you for finding Achilles.” You pulled the key from your leather jacket and dangled it in front of him with a grin, the silver keyring twinkling and catching his attention. He eyed up the figurine of the Trojian Horse, an inside joke you liked to use when on mission because the meaning always went over their heads. “Wanna take her for a spin?”

His hesitancy lasted only a split second since the conditioning of trust that had been instilled subconsciously all week quickly told him there was nothing to worry about. 

He looked down at his casual shirt and shorts he wore, clothes definitely not suitable for riding a motorcycle, before stepping back inside. “Would you like to come in?”

Max didn’t know the mistake he just made or the real reason you smiled the way you did as you stepped over the threshold, your body brushing close to his.

He was already gone: hook, line and sinker, he was yours.

Four Months Later The coffee pot was almost empty and your eyes were bleary as you sat on the sofa watching the live feed on your laptop for the fourth straight hour. The video footage was being recorded as it played and you already had sent a thumb drive full of similar files with the parts and manufacturing plans you had stolen on your last visit with Max to the Red Bull factory in England. This next one should be ready to send in the morning.

It hadn’t been difficult to organise a ‘work’ trip to London during the time Max was going to test some new features they were working on and he practically begged you to visit him since it wasn’t far to Milton Keynes where they were based. You wanted to hate him for making it too easy, for being too trusting and too kind. 

You wanted to hate him for making you feel guilty.

You lived for this job, playing mastermind and dancing the moral lines, and you were very good at it. The world was your stage while you got to write the play, direct the show and be whatever character you wanted to be. But more often than not you found yourself forgetting to be ‘Madilyn’ when you were with Max and realised at some point you were able to be yourself. 

It was a problem, and one you didn’t know how to solve.

That was a lie. You could take the thumb drive down to the post shop and send it before disappearing into the night. Job done, problem solved.

But that would mean never seeing Max again and the truth was you weren’t ready for that.

Achilles padded into the living room and jumped onto your lap, purring as he nudged your hand for a pat. “Don’t get too comfortable, this is just a temporary arrangement,” you said as you scratched his neck. “You wouldn’t like New York anyway. The air smells, the people are rude and there’s no Sassy or Jimmy to play with.”

You were going to miss Monaco when it came time to leave. Everyone had been so friendly and welcoming to this stranger, if only they knew the havoc you had come to wreak on their city.

Your doorbell suddenly rang and you swiped your phone off the coffee table to open the app and saw Max on your front step. You had specifically told him that you were feeling sick so he didn’t come around. He had a race this week and shouldn’t have been taking the risk of going near anyone sick but there he was, a bag of takeaways in his hands.

You cursed to yourself as you closed your laptop and went to open the door just a crack. “Max? What are you doing here?” you asked with a rasping voice. 

He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, aiming to kiss you but you turned your head away so his lips landed on your cheek. 

“I’m sick, you shouldn’t be here. You could catch it too.”

“I don’t care.” He placed the bag on the hall table so his hands were free to cup your face, holding you still as he greeted you with a proper kiss. It was impossible to resist him and your lips parted as you grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer.

He was far too responsible as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt, though he didn’t seem too pleased about stopping you from taking things further. “Eat first,” he ordered, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other grabbing the food. 

Max’s season had been off to a terrible start with a third place podium the best he had been able to achieve behind the Ferrari’s who had come back strongly from last year's poor result. The journalists called it a miracle - that the Italian team were able to produce a car to rival Red Bull’s - but really it wasn’t quite that unexplainable. They had inside information thanks to you. 

Despite the stress in his life and the pressure he was feeling from his father to push harder, he still found time for you and a part of you resented him for that, for making it harder to complete the job.

Your laptop on the coffee table kept drawing your attention as you sat down with the chicken noodle soup Max had brought. It was like a ticking time bomb that you couldn’t ignore and everytime Max’s hand passed over it to get a napkin or the remote you felt your heartbeat in your throat. If he opened the lid he would see something you couldn’t explain away so you needed to get him away from it for your own sanity.

“I’m really tired, babe,” you lied as you faked a yawn and Max checked his watch with a frown when he saw how early it was. 

“Maybe we should see a doctor,” he suggested as he pressed his hand to your forehead and mistook the clammy heat as a fever, but it was purely from the stress you were under watching him reach over your laptop yet again for his can of Red Bull.

“A bit of rest is all I need. You don’t need to worry about me, you should be worrying about your race.” You shifted on the couch to face him and saw how relaxed he was with his arm draped across the back of your cushion and Achilles curled up on his lap. “How are you planning on beating Ferrari?”

He shrugged and focused on scratching the tabby between the shoulder blades. “I’ll get the most I can out of the car and it will either be enough to win or it won’t. I can only try my best and avoid making mistakes.”

You curled into his side, hiding your guilty face in his neck as his arm closed around you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered your confession.

“Why?” he laughed softly, “it’s not your fault.”

If only he knew. 

But he could never know.

Click here for part two.

[weirdfangirly]

—No Pure Blood

(Part 1)

Dark-Fiction Central ©️

Dark!Dad!Joel / Dark!Uncle!Tommy x Reader

Summery: You don’t want your dad to find out, so you let your uncle fuck you from behind.

⚠️ : Age-Gap (Joel is 53, Tommy 45, Reader 20), Rape, Dub-con, blackmailing, Dark!Joel, father/daughter relationship dynamics (everyone knows Reader to be Joel’s “adoptive daughter”), Reader calls Joel dad, confused Reader (Stockholm-Syndrom), father-figure Joel but messed up, manhandling, Daddy-issues, overprotective/obsessive Joel, manipulation, degradation-kink, throat-fuck/face-fuck, blow-jobs, breeding-kink, cum-eating, misogynistic-views/behaviour, name-calling, Uncle!Tommy (yes, it’s a warning from now on)

A/n: I had trouble giving Joel a title for this fic since he’s readers father-figure, kidnapper, rapist, pseudo-boyfriend—so I decided to just call him dad!joel and move on.

There will definitely be a part 2 because I’m not satisfied with the ending. Please like and reblog and leave me a comment—it will definitely motivate me to ACTUALLY write part 2 down instead of just thinking about it…

————

Joel needed you today.

He needed your juicy little mouth that was always so eager to do and say whatever he wanted.

His heavy balls were resting on your chin, his throbbing cock was sticking out over your face. The mascara ran down your cheeks along with tears, sweat and spit.

Just five seconds ago you were suffocating on his cock, not daring to pull away. Not daring to fight back.

He might as well have killed you then and there, and you still wouldn't have objected.

You respected him too much…or maybe you were confusing respect with fear? After all, he still wore the face of the murderer of your father. Your real father. But that felt like a lifetime ago…

Whenever you tired to think about your beloved father, his face morphed into Joel’s.

“Good girl.”, he praised you for your obedience and you couldn’t help yourself but find comfort in his words.

Joel couldn't decide whether to cum on your pretty face or make you swallow his load. He liked to know you full of his cum.

One day he would get you pregnant, just to see you round and full of him. He wanted to watch you raise his children. After all, your place was right next to him—and a life in Jackson wouldn’t change that. He would make sure of that.

This damn place was full of soft little boys who all grew up in the comfort of a thick fence that kept danger far away from them. They wouldn’t know how to protect you. They were trying to get your attention, running after you like a bunch of dogs. Joel was sick of witnessing it and not being able to do anything about it but to play “overprotective-father”.

He was sick of pretending that you weren’t his bitch.

He would knock you up soon enough. He would make a little mommy out of you and ruin your pretty body for every men out there. He would tell Tommy and the others that a random boy got you pregnant, so that nobody would get suspicious of it.

Poor girl got herself pregnant and dumbed by a random boy at a party while drunk—sounded believable enough. Joel couldn’t let anyone find out that he was fucking his “adoptive daughter“—that would be a fucking scandal.

His brother’s bitch would definitely try to kick his ass out of Jackson and this time she would actually have a good reason to do so...

He tapped your flushed cheek, signalling you to open up for him. You did. You opened your mouth widely, bracing yourself on his thick hairy thighs. He put his cock back in your mouth, it belonged there. You closed your plump lips around him.

“Ya‘gonna take what I give you, alright?”, he mumbled and grabbed a fistful of your hair. You closed your eyes and nodded, knowing what that would mean; its going to be rough and unforgiving.

He pushed his cock deeper and deeper in your mouth, before hitting the barrier of your throat.

You felt so good to him. He let his head fall back, relishing the moment.

You gagged, your eyes sprung open. You looked up at the tall man with big painted eyes that only made him want to fuck you even harder.

He wore nothing but a white undershirt. His broad shoulders and strong arms looked even more intimidating from this perspective. He was so handsome.

You wanted to make him proud.

So you braved yourself mentally, dedicated to not give him a hard time. He started to fuck your throat like it was your cunt, picking up on speed and force. Pushing himself down your throat making you gag and spasm under his hold.

All you could focus on was to not bite him even though every cell in your body was screaming at you to do exactly that. You couldn’t though. Your punishment would be way, way worse than getting used by him like this and he would most certainly not let you go to your friends birthday party tonight…

“Such a pretty fucking slut.”, he hissed, searching after his release that was seemingly hidden somewhere deep down your throat. Thankfully, it didn’t took him a lot of digging to find what he was looking for…

He exploded inside you mouth in such an absurd intensity that his cum leaked down from your nostrils, making you cough and choke around him. He was holding you in place tightly, watching your struggles intensely. Breathing heavy, strong chest falling up and down.

For what felt like minutes to you, there was absolutely no way for you to get fresh air into your system. His cum was blocking your airwaves. This had never happened before.

You were panicking. He wasn’t letting you go.

You just looked too pretty like this.

Eventually though, he let go of you with an animalistic growl, pushing you away from him. Your head hit the wall and you started to cry from what just had happened. Totally overwhelmed.

Like so often, you felt like a used napkin. Trash.

You crawled over to his legs and hugged him, trying to comfort yourself. “I-I c-couldn’t b-breathe.”, you hiccuped and looked up at him.

He was still trying to come down from his high.

„Walking around all day long in that skimpy little skirt, what did you expect would happen?“, he panted. “Told you many times not to dress like a whore.”

“M’sorry.”, you sniffed and whipped your tears away.

He made you let go of him and you immediately felt lost. „M’gonna take a shower now, girl. Wanna join?”

You wished. Joel wasn’t a softy, little things like asking you if you want to take a shower with him were the most he could do.

You shook your head. „I can’t…I’ll be running late to Anna’s birthday party.“

Joel was about to walk upstairs but stopped in his tracks. „Birthday party.“, he repeated like it was a curse-word.

„I-I told you last week.“, you reminded him. „You said yes, dad.“

How many fucking friends do you fucking have? Being invited to some kind of party every other night…

Joel was sick of it. Sick of Jackson. Your place was wherever he was and not at some random parties, or hangouts.

„Did I?“

„Yes.“, you said, truthfully.

„Mh.“, he looked over at you. You were still sitting on the floor in your tight little skirt. Spit and cum drooling down your face. Mascara running down your cheeks and half of your cherry lipstick—that he had gotten for you on his last hunt for supplies—smeared on his cock.

You did good—and good girls get rewards. His own rule. That was their system. That was how Joel got you where you were; confused, obedient and submissive.

He couldn’t let a life in Jackson ruin that. But you did a good job today and therefore you deserved a reward.

Good girls get rewards. Bad girls get punished.

„You remember the rules, girl?, he asked sternly.

„I’ll be home at 9. No entertaining boys. No drugs.“, you repeated like a mantra.

„Which one of them sluts was Anna again?“, he frowned. He could never put a face to the names of your friends, even though a lot of them would spend a lot of time over at their house throwing heart eyes at Joel.

„The one with the black hair and nose piercing.“, you said. “She’s not a slut, dad.”

“Mh.”, he just made and started to walk up the stairs. “If ya ass ain’t home at 9, me and my gun are coming to pick you up.”

“I won’t be late.”, you said, smiling. “Big promise.”

————

You whipped your face clean from Joel’s mess and tried your best to make yourself look presentable again. This was a special night after all…

You changed into a new shirt and applied another cover of lipgloss onto your lips.

You wanted to look your best for him…

It was a dangerous game you were playing—a deadly game even—but it was all too exciting.

Dean Winchester liked you. Really liked you.

He liked you so much that he wasn’t afraid to secretly meet up with Joel fucking Millers girl, risking to be caught. Risking to basically die.

Joel had a reputation in Jackson. Everyone knew about him and what he was capable of.

You had told Dean many times that if he wants to see you, it has to be discreet. Nobody could know about him and you, ever. You had told him that their relationship—no matter what kind of relationship—would mean danger.

For both of you.

Joel would kill Dean in a heartbeat, not even give it a second thought. However the things he would do to you would be much worse, because you had to deal with his outrage and anger for the rest of your life. He would probably start to tie you up again—he used to do that at the beginning, where he couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t try to run away from him.

You didn’t want to go back to that stage of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t want to be tied up to trees, heaters or posts again. You didn’t want him to walk you around on a tight leash again.

“I don’t know if we should see each other again, Dean...”, you whispered.

You weren’t sure if Dean was worth the risk. You didn’t even like Dean that much…You just liked to have the attention that Joel didn’t give you.

It wouldn’t be fair for Dean to get killed just because you were bored…

“Your old man won’t find out, babe.”, Dean said, knowing what you where getting at. He kept on kissing your neck and kneading your tit from under your shirt.

You were at the stables. It was your little hideout. Nobody would be able to find you here.

“But what if he does?”, you asked, voice full of worry. “What then?”

You already knew the answer.

Dean sighed and let go of you.

“He’s not the only one who had to survive out there for a long period of time.”, Dean said, now sounding annoyed. “He thinks of himself as tough, but guess what? So am I. I was part of a Raider-gang. Clickers and runners were the least of my problems. I had to showcase strength and dominance every day in order to not get fucked with. It was like living in a cage full of starving dogs. I know people like Joel and I know how to deal with them-“

Dean saw your big fearful eyes, hanging onto every word that left his mouth. He decided to better shut the fuck up before drying you out too much.

“Babe, don’t worry.”, he softened his voice again. “You are too pretty for that.”

He started to stroke your bare leg, making your skin prickle.

“C’mon let me make you feel real good, ya?”, he whispered in your ear before placing kisses all over your neck. He let his hand vanish under your top again, playing with your nipples. He was a good kisser and as you found out, you really liked being kissed on the neck. He made your eyes roll back.

Joel never kissed you like this. He never kissed you ever.

Dean’s lips eventually found yours, his tongue immediately entering your mouth, dominating your tongue. His hand wandered downside, finding his way between your legs. You jumped a little at the contact.

“You are not wearing panties.”, he realised and couldn’t believe his luck. He smirked into your mouth.

You blushed. Joel always liked it more when you didn’t wear any underwear around the house, so you figured Dean would like it, too. You could find a lot of similarities between them actually. Dean wasn’t like the other boys in Jackson, he was older and more experienced. Maybe you picked him because he was so much like Joel?

Dean was good with guns, good in killing clickers and a survivor. That’s why he got a position as a hunter—just like Joel.

“God, you are such a little tease, babe.”, he said and carefully slipped his finger inside you. You were wet since Joel had face-fucked you and you got nothing in return. Maybe Dean would give you the sweet-release you so desperately wanted. His hands were as skilled has his tongue. He fingered you in such a manner that you were surprised to actually feel your orgasm forming.

“Can you…can you keep kissing my neck, dean?”, you managed to get out without sounding too pathetic. It just felt soo good and it would help you cum.

He liked his name on your tongue like that.

“‘Course, babe.”, he whispered and started to kiss your neck again.

“And-and can you…can you call me…a slut?”, you whispered.

He stopped doing what he was doing.

Was that weird to ask?

You didn’t know. It was certainly normal for Joel to call you that.

You opened your eyes and blushed.

“What?”, he asked, confusion written all over his face.

“Never mind.”, you murmured in shame. You closed your legs and straightened your skirt.

You felt dumb.

“Wait, wait, wait.“ Dean said, not liking what you were doing. “You want me to call you…a slut?”

You nodded, face turning red. There was no point in denying it. Although you thought about acting like that was not what you said.

“That’s whatcha like to hear? You like being degraded like that?”

Joel always called you mean names like that when he was fucking you. At the beginning you didn’t really like it. It was hurtful to be called such nasty names all the time when you already felt bad about what was going on. It made you cry and you asked him to not call you that. You didn’t know what shifted inside you, but at one point you started to like it. It felt like a compliment to you. The only kind of compliments Joel was willing to dish out to you. You liked to be Joel’s slut and you wanted to be Deans too.

“Yes, it’s…it’s hot.”, you simply said.

Dean smiled at you in awe. “Damn, you really are a bombshell trough and through...”

Of course he would call you a slut. Dean was holding back anyways. This whole „boyfriend-act“ was knew to him too. He figured that the rules in Jackson were different than what he was used to outside. The only rule he knew was „take what you want, or someone else will“

However he was not with the raiders anymore. He couldn’t just take you from your father. He needed to make you fall in love with him first and soon he would’ve a cunt to warm his cock again. Dean liked a challenge anyways.

And you definitely were the biggest challenge in town.

“You should work on your compliments, son.”, a voice suddenly appeared from behind.

You jumped up from your spot and turned around. All colour left your face when you came face to face with…

“Uncle Tommy…”, you gulped, nearly choking on your own words. “What-what are you doing here?”

Tommy was standing there, hands casually tucked inside his jacket. A cigarette hanging from his lips.

How long was he standing there?

How much of your conversation did he witnessed?

Oh how embarrassing.

“Hi, sweetheart.”, he said to you and smiled, cigarette dangling between his lips. “Oh, well you know, I like to watch the horses while I smoke.”

He pointed at the stables behind him with his thump.

Oh this was the beginning of the end of your life.

Dean who was still casually sitting on the bench, one foot dangling over his leg and arms outstretched, looked over his shoulder to Tommy and greeted: “Mr Miller. Nice to meet you.”

Judging Deans very relaxed body language and the lack of horror in his face, you couldn’t tell if he realised how bad the situation was for him—and you.

“Nice to see’ya too.”, Tommy replied.

There was a tension building pause between all of you. Tommy was the one breaking the silence.

“You should go home now, son. I put’ya on patrol together with Joel tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the protocols.”, Dean nodded and rose up from the bench to his full height.

“You will definitely need to be well-rested, is what I’m sayin.“, the threat in Tommys sentence was hidden but there.

Dean nodded, in amusement and understanding.

Your worried eyes wandered back and forth between the men. You were close to hyperventilating.

“Yes, it’s late.”, you awkwardly said in hopes to debunk the situation. “I’m tired too.”

Another heavy pause placed itself onto everyone. You looked up at Dean, non-verbally telling him to please play along and just go home. That it wasn’t worth it. He looked down at you and winked, before tuning his attention back to Tommy.

“Good night, babe.”, he said while looking at the older man, provocatively.

Tommy kept his cool. He wasn’t impressed by Dean at all and he most certainly wouldn’t let him ruin this promising night.

“Mr Miller.”, he eventually said and walked away, leaving you alone with Tommy.

Tommy watched Dean wander away. He scoffed and shook his head in amusement. He took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. “What a charmer.”, he murmured more to himself than to you.

He walked around the bench and took a seat, grunting. “If it was up to me,”, he started, “I wouldn’t let that prick anywhere near a gun, but you know, Joel was quite pleased with the way the boy handled himself out there. Skilled. The kid has experience, many people in Jackson don’t.”

You didn’t hear a thing Tommy just said. You heart was beating too loud and too fast, you feared to suffer a heart attack.

“Uncle Tommy, I-I’m…please don’t tell Joel.”, you begged. There was nothing but worry in your eyes.

“Sweetheart, relax.”, he laughed. “I was young once too. You don’t even wanna know what bullshit I pulled behind my parents backs…”

You cracked a little smile at that.

“And, believe me, ya don’t want me to tell you about Joel’s business when he was your age…”

That made you giggle. You couldn’t even picture Joel as a young man.

“Ah, you’re smiling again.”, Tommy pointed at your face proudly. “I like to see that. C’mon sit down next to me.”

“I should go home, uncle Tommy. I have to be home at 9 or else…”

He looked at his wristwatch. “Got planty of time then.”

He was right. You still got half an hour. You nodded and placed yourself next to Tommy.

You met Tommy for the first time here in Jackson. Joel had told you a lot about him during your journey. You warmed up to Tommy almost immediately. At first you were a little sceptical about the man, he looked a lot like Joel. However he was nothing like him—Well, maybe only a tiny-little bit. According to Joel’s many stories, Tommy was pretty badass too. „We used to be a duo“, Joel had told you.

Tommy was definitely more charismatic though. Everyone in Jackson liked him. He was warm and welcoming towards you, immediately accepting you as part of their family.

“You will not tell Joel?”, you asked again, just to make sure.

“Nah.”, Tommy shook his head. “M’sorry for ruining your little date, sweetheart.”

You smiled. “It’s ok, uncle Tommy. I’m not mad at you.”

He smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”

He paused for a second before speaking again:

“As your uncle though…I feel like I have to give you the speech.”

“The speech?”, you repeated, not knowing what ‘the speech’ was.

“Yea, the speech.”, Tommy sighed. “He’s your first boyfriend, right?”

You looked at Tommy, unsure what to answer. Dean wasn’t your boyfriend yet—and he probably never would be. Joel was. Was he? No he was your dad.

“Guys like Dean…they mean trouble for girls like you. Gonna take a bite out of your heart before spitting it back out. Ya understand?”

“I…I don’t think so, uncle Tommy…”, you truthfully said.

Tommy leaned back and looked up at the night-sky, thinking of the right words. He turned his attention back at you. “M’tryin to say is, you are a pretty girl. That’s all guys like Dean care about. You give him a bit of yourself and he will expect more and more, until you’re left with nothin more to give. That’s when he gets bored of you and leaves.”

Your eyes widened at Tommys cryptic message. What he was trying to say is “if you let him fuck you, he will not be interested in you any more”—but that would be to harsh for you to hear.

You couldn’t help yourself but think…Will Joel get bored of me too?

You kept quiet, biting your lip. Not sure what to say.

“Maybe I should tell my brother about this, about Dean...”, he suddenly said and making every alarm bell inside your head ring. “That Dean kid is bad blood. Joel should scare him a little, make him understand that he shouldn’t break ya heart.”

You grabbed his arm and frantically shook your head. “No, no, no! Uncle Tommy, please don’t! Joel will kill him.”

“Sounds just about right to me .”, he chuckled.

“No, you don’t understand. He will also punish me. I’m not allowed to see boys. He thinks I’m at Anna’s birthday party. He will be very, very angry with me. I don’t want him to be angry with me. Please you don’t understand, uncle Tommy.”

Tommy was studying your reaction closely. Oh he did understand.

“You really don’t want me to tell him?”, he asked, playing dumb.

“Yes, please don’t. I’ll do anything.”, you nodded. “I’ll bake you the carrot cake you like so much!”

“What if I want something else?”, he asked voice suddenly lower, his eyes darker.

He sounded much more like Joel now.

You frowned, not understanding. “You want me to bake you another cake?”

“Close. I do want something sweet from you.”

“Something sweet?”, you repeated still confused about what exactly he wanted “Like…chocolate?”

“Ya can’t be this dumb, sweetheart...”, Tommy chuckled.

You opened your mouth, but closed it immediately.

Dumb?

Tommy never called you dumb before.

“…Or should I say ‘slut’?”

That answered the question you had earlier; he did indeed heard everything you said to Dean…

You wished to drop dead on the spot, feeling utterly embarrassed.

You seriously didn’t know what to say. You just looked down and swallowed the wave of emotions down that were otherwise going to burst out of you in form of a mental breakdown.

“I’ll go home now.”, you whispered, when you found your strength to speak again. You stayed seated though, not making the move to stand up and go, as if you were waiting for Tommys permission—Something told you that he wouldn’t let you off the hook this easy.

He nodded and made a clicking sound with his tongue.

“I’ll bring you home…after you’ve convinced me not to tell Joel about the fact that his girl begs strange guys to treat her like a common whore. Wonder how he will take that...”

Tommys soft tone didn’t fit his vile words.

You could feel yourself shutting down—this happened a lot at the early stages of being with Joel, after he had brutally killed your father in front of your eyes and forced you to be with him, to act like everything was totally fine. You stared into the void, not willing to acknowledge the level of betrayal you were experiencing right now. He was blackmailing you.

You liked Tommy.

He was one of the good guys.

Tommy looked at you intensely, analysing your soft features. There was a war going on inside your confused little head, he could see.

He had always wondered how you still look this stunning during the end of times while everyone else’s looked like they been through the gutter. Even on the day you and Joel arrived at Jackson for the first time after a year of living in the wilderness that was now the whole country—you still looked like an angel. Joel did a good job of taking care of you, Tommy had to admit.

Tommy admired your devotion towards his older brother. The way you would look up at him, as if he was your god. Always searching for his approval, his affection, his permission. Joel was a cold bastard, leaving you empty and starved.

Or maybe he was just smart really, since you couldn’t get enough of him no matter what.

And when Joel introduced you to him that day, your pretty eyes lit up with excitement. Uncle Tommy, you called him, even though you were not the same blood. You called him that out of respect for Joel.

Tommy wasn’t stupid. He could see right through Joel’s facade of protective-father. Tommy was his brother after all. He could tell that Joel’s liking in you wasn’t of…innocent nature. Quite the opposite. It was much, much darker. He always knew. Your dynamics always seemed a little off to him. Joel hadn’t even looked at another women since he was in Jackson—he had no need to. He had you.

Tommys suspicion was confirmed when one day he saw Joel touching your ass. It was a few month ago at Christmas dinner. You were standing in front of the sink—washing dishes like the little slave you were for Joel—when suddenly he walked up to you, seemingly to bring you more plates to wash, when his hand grabbed a fistful of your soft ass, so tight his knuckles turned white—and you didn’t objected.

At first Tommy was angry. Disgusted even. Joel was like your fucking father. You called him “dad”, for fucks sake. It was disgusting, vile and wrong.

But then Tommy felt stupid for not putting one and one together much earlier. Why else would a guy like Joel take care of a girl that wasn’t even his own blood? What did he get out from feeding another mouth? What was his merit? What could a girl like you possibly give to a man like him that he wasn’t able to get for himself?

The answer was so obvious.

Tommy heaved himself up from the bench and let his eyes wander over the era, looking out for potential witnesses…

“Ya’got two options, sweetheart.”, he started. “First option; we go home and I tell my brother what just happened between you and Mr Bombshell. The kid will die most likely tomorrow on patrol and Joel will not let you out if his eyesight for the rest of your life. Second option…”

He looked down at your bare legs and licked his lips.

“You stand up, turn around and bend over…”

He paused for a second. “S’up to you.”

„Second.“, you whispered, you didn’t even need time to think about your answer—not that you where thinking anything at all right now. Your mind was blank.

There was nothing that Tommy could do to you, that Joel hadn’t already done. You feared Joel more. The answer was easy. Second option.

You hadn’t even realised that you got up, turned around and bend over. Holding onto the back of the bench tightly.

It was only when you felt Tommy lift your skirt up and your bottom was exposed to the cold night and Tommys hungry stare that you realised that there was no turning back.

You couldn’t see what Tommy was doing behind you, and a part of you was thankful for that; at least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

Tommy pulled his cock out. He was hard the second he heard you beg Dean to call you a slut. He gave himself a few pumps and then lined his cock up with your entrance. He wasted no time, immediately ramming all of him inside your juicy cunt.

Dean had worked you up good for him.

The invasion was sudden and forceful. You whined and your knees buckled. You clenched your teeth together.

Tommy started to fuck you the second he was in, leaving your body no time to adjust to his length. He was fucking your hard and fast. He was holding onto your petite shoulders tightly, hurting your flesh and bringing your body down to his in a forceful manner.

The sound of clapping skin was loud and sinful. It sounded so wrong in your ears. And it only got worse when Tommy started to grunt like an animal.

„Shit, girl. Never fucked a cunt as tight as yours.“, he hissed. „Fuck.“

You started to cry. Not because you were in pain, but because you were about to cum…

„Stop please.“, you cried. You didn’t want to cum. Not for Tommy. You didn’t want him to think you enjoyed his assault.

“Your body is betraying you. You like it.”, you remember Joel say to you the first time he took you against your will.

This isn’t normal. I’m not normal. I’m sick. I’m a sick girl.

You started to cry even harder, or were you moaning?It was a mixture of both and it was pathetic. Your were so close. You cunt got even tighter around Tommy. He could feel it.

“You wanna cum little slut?”, he laughed, a nasty dirty laugh. He gave your ass a hard slap.

“No!”, you cried out. “Please stop!”

It wasn’t your fault. You were wet since Joel had fucked your throat earlier today and left you on the ground sexually frustrated. Then there was Dean who had spend minutes fingering you while kissing your neck. It wasn’t because of Tommy.

It’s not because of Tommy.

It’s not because of Tommy.

It’s not because of Tommy.

The more you tried to work against it, the pressure inside you only intensified. You couldn’t hold it out any longer.

You came.

You came around his cock.

First your legs started to shake—it was like a wave—then your whole body. Your thoughts were completely flushed away. Your were biting your lip so hard that you could taste blood on your tongue.

“That’s my girl.”, Tommy praised and kept fucking you hard. “God, you are so hot, sweetheart. I see why Joel keeps you around.”

After you came down from your orgasm you were basically jelly. Without Tommy holding you in place you would be panting on the ground by now. He kept ramming his cock inside you a few more times before pulling out.

He turned you around and manhandled you on your knees.

“Hold your palms out, bitch. C’mon.”, he barked and grabbed your wrist and yanked them up.

You put your palms together and held them up.

He frantically stroked his cock while grunting and growling like a wolf before finally releasing himself inside your hands.

A poodle of your uncles warm, sticky, hot cum could now be found inside your shaking hands. You didn’t dare to drop it. You didn’t move, holding your palms up as if his cum was holy.

The tears had dried on your face. You looked up at Tommy, waiting for him to finally end your suffering.

You wanted to run home.

He put his cock back inside his jeans and pulled out a cigarette. Exhausted.

“Eat it.”, he said and pointed his cigarette at his cum.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you. He wanted to know how well his brother had trained you.

“C’mon, eat it up.”, he repeated when he saw your confused face.

You hesitantly brought your shaking hands closer to your lips. If you had anything in your stomach right now, you would’ve puked it all out. You carefully took a small lick from his cum and cringed a little. It was salty. But soon you found the taste to be familiar. It tasted like Joel’s.

“Be careful not to drop anythin. We don’t want Joel to find cum on you, do we? He might think it belongs to Dean…”

You shook your head and carefully licked your palms clean. Eating your uncles cum.

Tommy watched you intensely. You looked like a little kitten drinking her milk. He was already hard again. He would definitely think about this image of you when he would fuck his wife later tonight.

“Good job, sweetheart.”, he praised you. “Now C’mon. Let’s get’ya home. And you better thing about an excuse why you look like someone had fucked you silly…we don’t want Joel to get suspicious.”

He pointed at you puffy red eyes and ran down mascara.

He helped you up from the ground and you silently followed him home.

————

[darkstarofchaos]

More spoilers for EarthSpark.

Okay. Let's talk about the Chaos Terrans.

The Good

Spitfire was the only one of the two I'd seen before watching the new episodes, so I was really worried that all of the Chaos Terrains would just be Dark Versions of the existing cast. It was a relief to meet Aftermath pretty much immediately and realize not all of them are recolors.

Nice of them to explain why the Chaos Terrans were different from the regular ones.

Honestly, the bodyswapping episode might be my favorite of the batch. Which is a bit like choosing the best of the worst, but I honestly kind of like the trope, and I appreciate that it wasn't played for comedy at all. I also really appreciate that they kept the VAs matched with the bodies instead of the characters, because one of my least favorite things about bodyswap stories is when characters keep their own voices. The VAs also did a really good job of playing each other's characters, even if the dialogue itself was painful at times.

Aftermath immediately adopting Spitfire as his sister was cute.

I liked Spitfire initially. She was a bit young to be so apathetic (girl, you've been alive for five minutes, where's your joie de vivre?), but compared to Aftermath just wanting to destroy stuff, it was a relief that not all of the Chaos Terrans were going to be like that.

The Bad

The moment Twitch got chosen to go on a mission, I knew Spitfire was going to be jealous and that was going to define her character from then on. And then she started going on about being superior to Twitch, and yup. Just a standard Dark Version with a superiority complex. Again, you have been alive for five minutes, you shouldn't even have a frame of reference to understand superlatives yet.

On that note, love how the Chaos Terrans just pop into existence and know things instantly. And can scan an altmode and transform within seconds of coming online, while the regular Terrans took days, weeks, or months to even figure out what they wanted to be. Glad we're chucking the worldbuilding in the trash along with the characterization.

Seriously, though, what is it about the Chaos Terrans that makes them just understand everything the moment they come alive? I can accept it from shows like G1 where new bots were built and programmed, but the Terrans are birthed spontaneously and have no knowledge whatsoever. I could kind of overlook how quickly the triplets went from zero to sixty because the plot needed them to catch on fast, but these kids just start at sixty. I hate it when characters with literally two seconds' worth of experience are just instantly able to hold conversations about things they've never even heard of.

Why, exactly, did Spitfire have to scan the drone? Even if she was too heavy for Twitch to carry, Twitch could have just caught her and slowed their fall enough to land safely. They had plenty of time. This entire "I'm you but better" thing was completely avoidable (unless Spitfire chose to scan the drone afterward, but at least then Twitch wouldn't have brought the misery on herself).

How did the cast manage to go a year collecting shards before a Chaos Terran happened? If high velocity and water are all it takes, how did none of the shards land in bodies of water immediately after the Emberstone was originally shattered? How did most of them not end up in the ocean? These things should have done like Lilo and Stitch and spawned aliens everywhere.

The Ugly

Wow. We're really doing the Evil From Birth thing, aren't we. Really doing the "they can't be redeemed because they were born bad" thing, huh. Congratulations, that might be the single most irresponsible message you can put in children's media. Nothing says "some people are born different and that's not okay" like making a pair of literal children irredeemable because of the circumstances of their birth.

I hate the fact that I knew Aftermath was going to die almost as soon as he was born. I mean, the shard was in his spark, there was no way anyone was fixing the Emberstone without removing it somehow. Same with Spitfire. Yeah, let's not only make them evil from birth, let's kill them because of the thing that made them different. Let's doom them from birth to have their organs harvested. Forget the mutated creatures, psychological violations, and all the other horrors going on in EarthSpark, this might be the darkest thing that's happened in this series. Y'know, that and the pair of them being slaughtered onscreen.

What was the point in them even existing. What lasting impact did they leave on the series, apart from being Starscream's moral event horizon. Unless the writing gets way better in the next batch of episodes, no one is going to miss them. No one came away meaningfully changed from having known them. And of course, the Emberstone is dust now, so their deaths didn't even matter ten minutes later. They died for nothing, and I would be surprised if they even come up again outside of condemning Starscream for his actions.

I didn't even like the Chaos Terrans as characters, and I feel so bad for them.

[crazylittlejester]

HI HI HI

You should yell about the blorbo. I'd love to hear about some warriors HC's you have.

I also have a HC and I'd love to hear what you think about it.

I've always HC'ed Warriors as having an adoptive son/daughter. And I low-key see him as a princess dad. The man is totally dressing up for his daughter's tea parties in the castle with her best friend the queen.

Please yell about your blorbo, I want to hear about him. :DDDD

HI HI HI IVE BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO YELL AND YAP I SHALL!!!!

First of all: Yes absolutely. I headcanon Wars as on the ace spectrum, I don’t think that man is having biological children. I kinda see him as someone who would decide to NOT have children, because he doesn’t think it’d be fair of him to raise a child because he thinks he’s too mentally messed up for that (despite the fact that Time and Wind both turned out FINE), but one day he just ✨Acquires✨ a child and that’s just the end of it he’s a father now.

The specific headcanon I have for him regarding having kids is after the war, he does his best to help the areas of Hyrule that were just DESTROYED, and so many civilians lost their lives and orphanages were just overflowing, and he does his best to put money into those places to help out and he visits and tells the kids stories and makes sure they’re actually being treated well and helps them get families, and one day he just comes across this little girl who’s not counted for at any of the orphanages and her parents are gone, and he tries to get her set up in one but she’s just too attached to him and he’s got such a soft spot for kids he just adopts her because she was just so miserable there and kept begging the people at the orphanage to make him come back. And that’s his little girl now, she’s his princess he’d fight the entire war again in a heartbeat just for her. He absolutely dresses up for tea parties with her, he lets her do his hair and makeup, he’ll walk down the halls holding her hand while she skips and Zelda has never in her LIFE seen him so genuinely happy. He’s an absolutely WONDERFUL father, despite his own doubts in himself, and that little girl grows up with “Aunt Zel” and “Aunt Impa” teaching her how to kick ASS (plus Aunt Linkle, who’s her actual aunt being Link’s brother and all, and Linkle helps her befriend the cuckoos)

Other Wars headcanons I have!!:

- He has a significant amount of gray hair but you can’t see it because he bleaches and dyes his hair (I HC it’s naturally a very dark brown and also curly, but he straightens it)

- Writes his journals in his first language because it’s not a common one in Castle Town and it makes him feel better to know that if anyone DID get their hands on it, they’d at least be slowed down because they’d have to translate it

- His left hand shakes sometimes because of old injuries and overuse, and it’s not as strong as his right. Sometimes it’s hard for him to use his sword and shield because of it, so he’ll either use his sword with two hands for support or just use his fire rod

- He has quite a few scars on his face but he can either cover them COMPLETELY with makeup or make them look light enough to not be super jarring (depending on how deep the scars are)

- I HC he doesn’t like things up against his neck, so he’ll wear only tunics/shirts that are very low cut in the front and his scarf is pinned so securely in place that it is IMPOSSIBLE for him to be strangled with it unless the end was grabbed and THEN wrapped around his neck

- Not the world’s best cook. He can make comfort dishes from home his mom used to make for him, but not a whole lot of other things. He has memorized recipes and hasn’t tried too much with experimenting and making new ones

- High spice tolerance, but mentally he can’t handle it because it makes his tongue buzz and he’ll freak out and panic because he can’t tell if it’s spice or poison

- Autistic with lower support needs. He masks incredibly well but that doesn’t make him any less autistic and that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t struggle

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi! Can I ask for a teen!reader who recently got “adopted” by the ror family but doesn’t necessarily accept it at first?

Like they refuse to listen to rules, doesn’t refer to them as family,sneaks out of the house, etc. Mostly reactions from Loki, Adam, Eve, Shiva, Buddha, Hermes, Jack + anybody else(if you want)

-You had been through several foster homes, each one worse than the last, after you kept running away from them, finding them just as abusive as your family, reporting them to your case worker.

-You did well in keeping others out of situations like that, and in turn made the screening process much more difficult for families to foster, as many were only doing it for the added money, not caring at all for the children they were welcoming into their homes.

-When your caseworker told you that you had been adopted, you were stunned, as nobody in their right mind would adopt a teenager without fostering first, at least anything that you had seen in your life.

-This new family was massive, over twenty members easily, warriors, gods, and valkyries, all of them very powerful looking, but all seemed to welcome you warmly to your new home.

-You kept your guard up, keeping to yourself, waiting for the moment any of them show any signs of abuse or neglect, then you were running straight to your case worker. You’ve dealt with it enough; you were never going to let anyone hurt you ever again.

-They could all tell you didn’t trust them, but they had all been made aware of your track record, about your previous homes and how they treated you, so anyone in their right mind would be guarded and scared.

-Loki, Raiden, and Ares compared you to a feral kitten, bristly and angry, but Eve and Parvati were easily able to tell that you had a kind heart inside of you, one that you were safeguarding.

-You tested the waters, acting out a bit, not abiding by the rules, like going out after dark, sneaking out, and when someone would tell you that as your family, they were worried about you, you would always bite back with, “You’re not my family!”

-It was hard for everyone, as they knew you were testing them, making sure that you were really safe, and you felt guilty for making some of them upset, like Eve when she brought you some fruit while you were studying, patting your head gently while praising you, but when she touched you, you flinched, telling her not to touch you, your voice cold.

-Adam wanted to scold you, until he saw that your hands were shaking, as you were trying not to cry, you had been startled when she touched you, as the last person to touch you didn’t have a gentle touch like she did.

-You were scared of opening up, despite this being the first and only place you felt safe at, you felt like you belonged, as any of your family members would try to include you on activities, like going out, even if it was just to the grocery store, or if you wanted to pick vegetables in the garden, they made you feel welcome.

-The thought of losing this place, this home, scared you, and many of the older warriors and gods could see you slowly softening up, testing the waters with opening up a bit more.

-You still flinched when they would touch you, like patting your head, which angered them, furious that someone as young as you had dealt with the abuse you had gone through, but you were willing to sit with others now, watching movies, playing board games, and even helping out with chores.

-They knew, going into this, that this wasn’t going to be easy, and it hasn’t been, not for anyone, but with baby steps, you stopped acting out and breaking rules, but you were still hesitant about calling any of them family.

-Adam and Eve- Were proud of your growth and seeing you open up around them showed them that you were actually a very bright and loving person, always willing to have fun but headstrong at times. The day they took you out, just for coffee, you thanked them, “Thanks…mama…papa.” They were both stunned before Eve lit up, hugging you tightly while Adam looked ready to keel over, clutching at his chest, overwhelmed with happiness. You pouted, trying to act tough, “Don’t-don’t make such a big deal out of it!” which they thought was cute.

-Loki- Threw you off initially, as he was the one helping you sneak out, encouraging you to act out, as he knew what you were doing, and at first you thought it was a trick, like he was helping you just to get you into trouble. You learned that wasn’t the case, as he was a gremlin and liked causing trouble and was happy to help you cause trouble. Would always ask if you wanted to get in on pranks and normally you refused, but the day you agreed he grinned so brightly before he got yelled at for tainting you.

-Buddha- Was laid back with you, he made you feel at ease, and you were the only person he shared all of his snacks with, even his favorite cola flavored chups, which was unheard of, and Loki pouted so much that it made you laugh for the first time when you teased him. Buddha hid his anger well, furious about what had happened to you, but he was one of the ones who was the gentlest with you, letting you come to him, and he watched you go from a feral kitten to a slightly grumpy kitten, but it was a work in progress.

-Shiva- Was one of the ones who had the most trouble dealing with you, as he wanted you to get to know him and his wives along with the other members of the family, only to be greeted with hostility. He had a rough time keeping his temper in check but the one time he yelled at you after you snuck out, because he was worried about you, he hugged you so tightly, seeing the fear in your eyes. He didn’t want you to be afraid of him. He did back off a bit, accepting your daily refusals when he would ask if you wanted to go and do something, either just with him or with his wives and Ganesha. The day you agreed to help him and his wives in the garden, to collect veggies and pull weeds, he was celebrating on the inside, it was a small but meaningful win.

-Hermes- Took your actions and reactions to certain things seriously, he knew you were damaged and hurting, and he didn’t want to scare or hurt you. Could see how you carried yourself, scared and guarded while you were acting out, he was one of the first ones to realize that you were acting out on purpose, testing them, and Hermes took it in stride, not giving in and always keeping a level head. He was one that you warmed up to more quickly than others, mainly because he was always calm and wasn’t loud. He was easy to get along with as he didn’t pressure you into doing anything, Hermes was the one to ask you if he could go get coffee with you and the first one you said yes to.

-Jack- Knew what you were feeling from the moment he first laid eyes on you, your colors were a disgusting blend of fear and anger, colors that didn’t belong on a child. As you spent more time with them, he saw your colors morphing into hesitance, curiosity, sadness, guilt, but the day he saw happiness slowly peeking in, after you agreed to have afternoon tea with him at his favorite café, complete with tea cakes, was a day he knew that you were slowly healing. He never pressured you into anything, except talking about your feelings from time to time, it was pointless hiding it from him, as he could see the truth, but he allowed you to come to him, which you appreciated.

-Odin- Was fully ready to raze the earth and go after those who hurt you, and several more were on board with his plans and to be honest, you were actually pretty curious if they were going to do it, then pouted lightly when they didn’t, something Odin noticed. Was definitely one of the ‘family members’ you were more hesitant around, due to his side and that he always seemed to be glaring, until Loki told you that it was because Odin only had one eye and can’t see for shit out the other. You watched Odin chase Loki around the neighborhood for what felt like hours, you did think it was rather funny; when Odin came back inside he ruffled your hair gently and told you to go get Loki out of the tree he was hiding in.

[pantpisser9000]

Octonauts; Combined Together: The last Chapter

Brief TW/CW for panic attacks/mental breakdowns 

Shellington clasped his lab coat as he lay on the cool floor of his beloved lab. It was cold, in a sort of comforting way. Tail wrapped around his body and furred hands gripping onto his knees. He was breathing heavily, somewhat trying to calm himself. He’d been awake for too long, researching. He just wanted to know more about the vegimals, that was all. It sent him down a rabbit hole, and he’d gotten a tad distracted. And now, here he was, having a little bit of a breakdown. 

He wasn’t sure if what he was hearing was real or not. He heard the Octopod’s ‘mouth’ opening, (which, even if it was, he shouldn’t have been able to hear from up in his lab) and way too much creaking. He was scared somebody was going to take the vegimals–his practically adopted children–away. Kidnap them, if you will. To experiment on the children he’d basically raised. And he knew he would be able to do nothing to stop it, like how he was now. Just. Curled up on the floor–unable to do literally anything.

He didn’t know why he was so frozen or why he was hearing those things or just anything. He was unsure. He knew so damn much and yet so damn little. Just then, light covered the entire room, spreading across each surface like rushing water. Shellington kept his focus on the ground, still finding himself unable to move. He could, and yet he couldn’t. He heard someone–Dashi–talking. “Shellington?” she asked, confusion lacing her voice. Shelington just kinda… whimpered. Involuntarily. He could see the shadows changing as Dashi walked around, before she made a little ‘huh?!’ sound, likely at seeing Shellington. 

With the light clink of a plate on his desk, he was pretty sure Dashi crouched down. “...are you asleep?” she asked. Shellington just lightly shook his head, finding himself unable to speak. She walked around to the front of Shellington so she could look at his tear-stained face. Shellington could see she was concerned–obviously she was. She was a good friend, and even better at deciphering exactly what others were feeling (even if that skill wasn’t quite necessary in the moment, given Shellington was literally laying on the floor with a tear-soaked mug) and so seeing her close friend being so… depressed, for lack of a better term, would make her concerned. Would make anyone concerned. I’m just yapping though, so let’s continue with the story. 

Dashi just sat there, and she asked a few yes/no questions, all which gave her just a tad more information. 

“Can you talk?” a little shake of his head. 

“Can you move at all, besides shaking your head or nodding?” another shake of Shellington’s head.

“Have you been laying there for more than a hour?” no response. Dashi figured he simply did not know the answer. 

“Are you able to sleep?” another no response. She figured he didn’t know the answer to that one, either. 

“Can I bring you to bed?” a little nod from the part sea-otter. 

Dashi shimmeyed her hands, adorned with her various bracelets, (she changed them everyday; but she always kept two specific ones on: one with three beads that had “sis” spelled out letter by letter on each one that was a dark magenta on the first s, a purple on the i, and dark blue on the other s and a plastic one that consisted of light blue, light pink, white, light pink once more, and then light blue again as well) underneath Shellington’s body, and with great effort, scooped him up. She wasn’t very strong, though Shellington was really light. Too light in her opinion. That fact made the worry pool even more in her stomach then it already had. She brought him over to his bed, tucking him underneath the covers and switching his work-cap for his night time one. 

She asked one more question. “Do you want me to stay here?” a little nod that wasn’t quite noticeable from Shellington. Dashi took a quick breath before sitting at the edge of the bed, and pulling out her camera. Might as well look at the photos she’d taken, she supposed. 

***

When Shellington woke up, he noticed the weight at the end of his bed. It was Dashi. He remembered all of what happened the night before, evidently, and sighed. He’d had a little mental breakdown, freaked out, and laid on the floor (+ sobbed) for Meomi knows how long. Then, he felt a little hand grip onto his own, and he looked down and to the side. Three of his vegimal children on his right side (Tunip, Barrot, and Codish) and the other two on his left (Tomminow and Grouber). Tomminow, the smallest of the bunch, was the one gripping onto his hand at the moment. Their vine-tail was pressed up against their chest. Shellington knew it was to comfort him, obviously. He appreciated it, especially since these little plant-fish-human hybrids were kinda the cause of his breakdown, and knowing they were safe helped his mood. 

He felt bad for Dashi, though. She was sure to have back pain when she woke up–Shellington knew that from experience (he had fallen asleep at his desk one too many times in a way not unlike the position Dashi was sleeping in). Shellington yawned, and then just simply curled back into bed, holding his vegetable children close to him.  Eventually, after about a hour of going back and forth between sleeping and awakeness, Dashi awoke as well. “Are you.. Doing better, now?” she asked, stretching as she sat in a better posture on the side of the bed. Shellington yawned once more. “I.. ah, I suppose, yes.” he responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want to talk abou-” “No thanks,” he interrupted. He usually wasn’t the type, though this time? He.. just had to. Dashi just nodded, stretching and now yawning as well. “So, you’re good now?” she questioned. Shellington sleepily nodded. “I think so.” His mind had already wandered to some sea creature. Dashi got up, and tapped on the screen embedded in the wall. “Not too long before breakfast,” she said. “Should probably wake the vegimals up.” Shellington nodded, shaking all of them. They all gave him a quick hug before rushing out to prepare the meal. Shellington knew it would be delicious, it obviously would be. The vegimals were master chefs, gardeners, and just general assistants, at this point. They’d helped on missions on occasion too. Just all around brilliant. 

Dashi looked back at Shellington. “Let’s go,” she said, grinning. Shellington tilted his head to the side in confusion. “What? Why?” he asked, and Dashi smiled. “We’re going to help them make breakfast,” she replied. “Dashi, I’m a wretched cook-” “None of that,” she grabbed onto Shellington’s arm, “Time to go cook.” she said, and he couldn’t really stop her. He slipped on his octoboots, satchel, and day-cap, and followed her out the door and into the kitchen of the octopod. The vegimals were a bit confused at first, though were pleasantly surprised and just utterly delighted once they learned what was going on (even if it was against their practical father’s will). 

Shellington suffered, to put it simply. Batter splotched on his face, and somehow a part of the mixer got into his hair–he hadn’t been lying when he said he was horrid at cooking. Dashi and Tunip only giggled at the poor man’s discrepancies. 

EIther way, the food turned out good, (Shellington was relieved it hadn’t turned out like the GUP D whenever he drove the thing) and at that breakfast, everybody complimented the vegimals and Dashi. Shellington, not so much, given Dashi yapping about what misfortunes he’d faced while in the kitchen. All of his other crew mates had a good laugh about the whole ordeal, and Shellington admitted it was a little funny, he supposed. Just a tad. A wee bit, if you will. He was really just glad that nobody had pointed out the whole “him being locked up in the lab likely having a mental breakdown” thing. Very fortunate for the part-otter. 

And, another fortunate thing for Shellington–this day was pretty relaxed. He wasn’t sure if Dashi had a hand in it or not, but they really weren’t doing much for today’s mission besides looking at the sunset on top of the octopod at the end of the day–apparently flying fish were supposed to show up once more and it’d be all beautiful once more. Sure, they’d seen that before back when they almost lost the Professor’s book, but it was still a gorgeous sight nonetheless. The flying fish hybrids, gliding through the air–arms and the skin connecting their arms to their torsos almost translucent. The water glimmered through the clear skin, and they all briefly touched the water at multiple points, just slightly out of sync with each other. 

He pulled his small notebook/sketchbook out, as well as a pencil. Pressing granite across paper, he doodled the gliding beauts. He, of course, (given he was a scientist, after all!) added little scientific notes and comments plus more detailed illustrations of certain parts of the creatures. Namely the skin connecting their arms and their torsos, and their unique faces. Kwazii leaned up against his sitting body, glancing over his shoulder at the drawings. “You’re talented, matey!” he said, and Shellington nearly blushed from the compliment. It was a nice thing to say, after all. Kwazii stood up, taking out his spyglass and peeking through it immediately before Shellington could mutter his “thanks” up. 

Shellington glanced over towards Dashi, who had her camera out. He heard the clicking of her camera taking pictures of the gorgeous specimens, and he smiled. Looking over to the vegimals, they all seemed entranced as well. A couple of them trilling with delight. Before long, the flying people were gone with the wind. Kwazii raced to the side of the Octopod’s top, trying to see them just a little longer, but with the Octopod’s curved surface and the fact it was slippery (from previously being underwater) he slipped, plunging into the less-than-warm water. Of course, he immediately popped back out of the water, ears pressed against the sides of his head and hair sopping wet and sticking to his face and neck. He looked unimpressed, to say the very least. 

Everyone else had a good laugh about it, though. Even Kwazii, after he shook all the water off of himself, that is. That night, Shellington slept surprisingly soundly. He supposed a nice time (plus all the vegimals curled around him) had helped with that whole ordeal. 

***

Shellington woke up to the sound of the Octo-alert blaring, and he groaned. Pulling the sides of his pillow over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, in his dazed state he forgot what the alert actually…meant, muttering to himself, “Stooppppp”, until a wave of realization came over him. Sitting up, he hopped out of bed, lazily threw off his nightcap and kicked off his slippers, attempted to slip on his Octo-boots and threw his Octo-cap onto his very messy brown hair. He quickly yoinked his satchel and he skid across the floor as he ran to the Octo-chute, jumping in. 

He slid as he got launched out of the chute, breathing heavily, hand on his chest and shrimp-postured up. Everyone shot a quick glance at him before the Captain continued speaking. Shellington wasn’t really paying attention, as he was much too tired to do so, but he paid some when Captain Barnacles cleared his throat, saying, “Shellington?”  and he straightened his posture, and nodded. “Um, yes Captain?” he asked. “Please bring in the vegimals–Peso may need them for assistance.” he said, and Shellington nodded. He hopped back down the Octochute, and jumped onto the tile with only a slight stumble. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t the greatest with that. He digressed, walking into the kitchen. The vegimals weren’t in there, but he could hear them in the upper part of the pod, in the garden. He climbed up the ladder, hopping into the pod. “Vegimals!” He called, cupping his mouth with his hand, and all of the small children’s attention shifted to him. 

A few trilled and chirped at his presence. “I believe Peso needs you all, so if you could come with me down to the HQ?” Shellington politely requested, and of course his vegetable kids all nodded, following after him down the ladder and down the Octo-chute. Once they were grouped with Peso, Shellington realized he didn’t have much to do. Besides research. So, when he was no longer needed in the present moment, he headed down to his lab, and started up his computer. He interlocked his hands and stretched them outward. “Time to get started.” 

***

Tightening her hairband, Tweak yawned. These past few days had been relatively boring, even if the week earlier they’d found the arctic-fox-hybrid professor in the Antarctic. And she got to see her dad once more a couple months ago, and Kwazii’s grandad even earlier (Plus Professor Inkling had gotten to reunite with an old friend priorly this year as well, and meeting Shellington’s sister and nephew the year before, Peso’s little brother and mother a couple months ago (and a lot of his cousins scattered throughout), Captain Barnacle’s twin sister and nephew + niece, and Dashi’s younger sister pretty recently–Huh, we’ve met a lot of family these past five years she remarked silently to herself) It was nice to see her dad again, of course, but nothing particularly exhilarating that she’d been involved in recently. At least not in those past few months, sure a few interesting things like the whole Ring of Fire situation and the whole Sac Actun ordeal, (plus the thing with defending the Great Barrier Reef, but nobody liked to talk about that) but none of those were recent. 

Kwazii had crashed a decent amount of times, there were a lot of missions for Kwazii, Peso, and the Captain–though Tweak was rarely actually involved in those besides opening the Octo-hatch for the three of them. What I’m getting at here is that she was bored, even if she did thoroughly enjoy her job. She and Dashi had worked on a couple GUPS, a couple birthdays came and went, a shocking amount of family met–overall, her entire stay so far had been interesting, just..not these last few months. 

Of course, she had ideas still, but she wasn’t sure if they’d fly given…none of them were (exclusively–save the GUP D and GUP H, and she supposed the GUP X?) really underwater ideas. All of them roamed on land. And the Octonaut’s whole thing was under the sea. So, a whole group of GUPS that were for land terrain? Likely wasn’t a good idea, as they’d probably go completely unused. Sighing, twirling a carrot in her hand before taking a chomp out of the orange vegetable, she leaned onto her desk.  She knew they didn’t need any more underwater GUPS, nor did she have any good ideas for any at the moment, so she pulled out a sheet of paper (+ a pencil) and her Octo-tablet. Coming up with spare ideas wasn’t a bad thing–especially if something happened and they ended up needing one of these land-GUPS. Well, maybe ‘tera’ is a better prefix… Tweak thought to herself as she began doodling ideas. 

***

Peso had everything in the infirmary perfectly sorted–all nice and tidy. And now he was fitting in some restocks of supplies into his organized collection–he enjoyed a clean workspace for three key reasons: 

1: His mother always told him to do so, and so even if she wasn’t here with him, he could be fulfilling her wishes at least a little. 

2: If it was all clean, then there was less of a chance of spreading more diseases he was curing. It was just a general medical thing, honestly. 

3: He liked being organized–that way he knew where everything was exactly, so if it was an emergency, he didn’t have to dig through supplies or anything to get the cure or whatever was needed to help his patient. 

As he put one more thing of the restock bandages away he heard a yelp from behind him. When he swiveled around, he wasn’t surprised to find out who it was. “Yoww…” Kwazii mewled, rubbing his head. Peso sighed (not really in an annoyed way though) and walked over to the ginger cat-hybrid. He held out his hand, and Kwazii grasped it, standing up with the help from the penguin hybrid. “Thanks, matey,” he muttered, and Peso sharply nodded. “Of course, Kwazii,” he responded. “But, um, why were you running–what made you fall?” he asked. Kwazii rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. 

“Well, matey, it’s dinner.” Peso blinked rapidly in surprise. “Already?!” he exclaimed, clearly shocked. “Yup.” Kwazii confirmed, and Peso held his hand to his mouth. “Flappity flippers, I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late….” Peso murmured, trailing off. He looked back up at Kwazii’s freckled face. “Though–why did they send you down instead of just contacting me through the screen?” he asked, pointed towards what was similar to an Octo-tablet cemented into the wall. Kwazii, who was now sitting down in Peso’s chair with his feet up on Peso’s desk, stretched out his arms as he responded. “Captain was going to, buuuuuuut I be uh- well, I be bored, me hearty. So, I requested to go fetch ya personally.” Kwazii said. Peso nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. We haven’t really been able to do much, I suppose, besides that mission a couple days ago..” Peso said. Kwazii solemnly nodded as well, “Aye, matey. We’ve had all sorts of adventures, though lately–I be a tad bored.” Kwazii jumped out of the chair, doing a spin as he spoke, “I want somethin’ to happen, you know? Somethin’ exciting.” he said. While Peso was fine with how things were going, (the reason he’d even joined was mainly just to help other creatures, not really to go on adventures and swashbuckle like Kwazii wanted to) he understood how Kwazii felt. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” Peso replied. “I’m fine with how things are going, now, though.” he finished as he and Kwazii walked out of Peso’s medical station and into the hallways of the Octopod. Kwazii jumped down the chute, Peso following soon after. They both launched into the kitchen/dining room, (Kwazii (unsurprisingly) doing a backflip after they were propelled out of the chute while Peso just jumped out normally) sitting down to eat at the table along with everyone else. The conversation was normal–nothing too out of the ordinary, in all honesty. Just a bunch of friends chatting. 

It wasn’t long before dinner was finished and everyone went to bed (except for Tweak, who –despite Peso’s (and the Captain’s) insistence that sleep really was important and she needed to get more of it–just wanted to play video games until she fell asleep), and Peso relaxed in his bed after waving goodnight to Dashi, as her sleeping quarters were right next to his. The Captain’s and Kwazii’s next to each other as well, Tweak slept in the launch bay, Shellington in the lab and the Professor in the library. 

***

Peso woke up to a light much brighter than his nightlight (which he was a little embarrassed to still use, but it made him feel safe) shining from outside his window. He blinked, the feathers in place of his ears ruffling a little. Just as fast as the light came, it disappeared. It almost looked like two, huge white circles, and a barrage of seaweed going downwards. Peso gulped, praying it was nothing. Just a sleep-induced hallucination or misinterpretation of some normal not scary monster of a creature. Still, he felt he had to make sure, so he hopped out of bed, and palms pressed against the glass, he looked down. Nothing. Well, except.. Was that a little bit of seaweed, or kelp maybe, in a little.. Path of sorts? The currents lightly pushed the pieces of underwater greenery back and forth, and Peso just assumed that it was something washed up. Even if it was in a path of sorts, he figured it was just a coincidence it ended up ordering in that way. 

Hopefully, at least. Jumping back in bed and curling under the covers, he tried to calm himself. “I-It’s nothing, Peso. Don’t wo-rry..” he reassured himself, voice cracking with his nervousness. It was nothing. Not out of the ordinary at all. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get much sleep that night. 

*** That next morning, Peso was tired. He couldn’t get much sleep the night prior, which he lamented about at breakfast that dawn. “I just.. I couldn’t get much sleep last night,” he said, which Kwazii interjected, “Didja see a monster or somethin’, matey?” Peso, who hesitated for a moment–which, in Kwazii’s eye, sparked some suspicion–which made Kwazii pipe up again before Peso could get his word in, lifting his eyepatch, “Wait, really, me heartie?” he asked. “W-well, kin-” Kwazii grabbed Peso’s shoulders. 

“Tell me about what happened, matey!” The Captain shot a look in Kwazii’s direction, and he loosened his grip, backing off and sitting back down. He sent a nervous smile to the slightly annoyed Captain, who just sighed. Kwazii focused his gaze back on the medic. “....so?” Peso rubbed the back of his neck, “Um, I uh- I thought I saw two, round, bright, lights that kinda looked like eyes outside my wind-dow,” he started, his voice cracking, and he waved it off. Shellington chipped in, “Maybe another colossal squid hybrid, if anything. But, they don’t tend to roam this high of sea level….” Shellington trailed off, wracking his brain. The Captain chimed in before the conversation got too out of hand, (also known as–”Kwazii spouting off some wretched monster story that’d get Peso all (accidentally, to be fair) freaked out”) “Peso,” he started. “I’m sure it was a misremembered dream, or just.. A lot of bioluminescent hybrids all bunched up in a way that it looks like eyes,” and Peso nodded, feeling a little less scared. The Captain always knew how to comfort him, mysteriously. 

Kwazii, who didn’t speak up now, (it was obvious he was itching to tell a monster story, but must’ve refrained in fear of the Captain’s “wrath” (being very lightly scolded)) looked off to the side, maneuvering a kelp cake into his mouth. Tweak suddenly spoke up. “Cap,” she began. Barnacles directed his attention to the green-haired engineer. “Yes, Tweak?” he asked. “I’ve got an idea.” she said, and Barnacles cocked his head to the side. “Come down to the bay after breakfast,” she requested. “You’ll see.” She got up from her position on the bench, walking to the chute. “Alright…?” 

Eventually, everyone finished eating with just a little chit-chat, and they all headed their separate ways. The Captain to the launch bay, Peso to the infirmary (he still had a few things to restock), Dashi back to HQ, Shellington to his lab, Inkling to the library, and Kwazii… Probably his room, or something. Peso, Shellington, and the Professor all walked together given they were all going to the same hallway of the giant ship they all now called home, but split up when they reached their separate destinations. Peso walked in, still a tad shaken up by that experience the preliminary night, in all honesty. He began organizing all his things, until he heard the familiar walking of octo-boots coming into his medbay, and he swiveled around. Of course, it was “Kwazii?” Peso asked. 

Kwazii tilted his hat, “Aye.” and he walked over to Peso. “Do… do you need anything?” the penguin hybrid (confusedly) questioned. Kwazii just sighed. “I just be bored, matey,” he said, sighing. Peso looked at the minimal amounts of restocks he had left. “You could help me restock,” Peso suggested. Kwazii grinned. He picked up a box, “Where do I put this?” Peso pointed to a cabinet, and eventually after a little bit of that, they had finished quicker than Peso had been originally planning on. “...I think we just both be bored, now..” Kwazii muttered, before he practically got one of those cartoon lightbulbs above his head, “Wait, matey” he said, and Peso looked at him. “Y-yeah, Kwazii?” Peso answered with a question, “You think you’d be up for some ping-pong?” Kwazii asked. 

Peso put a hand to his chin. “I don’t think I have anything el-” Kwazii grabbed Peso’s wrist, “Ping pong it is, then, matey!” he exclaimed, dragging the shorter man to the chute. Peso just smiled. He was glad to have joined the Octonauts. 

***

Kwazii, unshockingly, couldn’t get that thing that Peso mentioned out of his mind, even as he was playing pingpong with the guy. It seemed like it could be a real monster! Sure, he believed in plenty, but this was the first time somebody else had (sorta) claimed they spotted one! Peso may not have said he believed it was a monster, though given how clearly shaken up the medic was, it wasn’t that much of a ballsy assumption on Kwazii’s part. He wanted to go searching for this monster, obviously. He knew for a fact though that Barnacles wouldn’t let him. No damn way. 

Especially since the Captain had already (mainly successfully, from the looks of it) calmed down Peso, he knew he’d get a lecture if he pressed Peso. So, he decided to bring it up a little more casually. 

Thwack. Ball against paddle, “So, Peso, me heartie” 

Peso hit the ball back thwack “Yes, Kwazii?” 

Thwack. “...what do you think was out there? Cus I swore I heard something bumpin’ across the side, but couldn’t catch a glimpse of the beast.” A little lie, maybe. He just wanted Peso to fess up. 

Thwack, then a gulp from the black haired man.  “B-Beast?! 

Thwack. “W- Well, I figured it be a beast, at least…” 

Sigh of relief, Thwack. “O-Oh, alright…but, u-um, probably just a lot of biolumineeesh-  bioluminescent- fish.” 

Thwack. Kwazii tilted his head to the side in questioning. “Y’ sure, matey? What’d it look like?”

Thwack. “U-um, it was hard to see since it was so d-dark but like two, large glowing circles…”

Thwack. “Eyes, maybe?”

Thwack. “Flappity flippers, I hope not…” 

Thwack. “Didja see anythin’ else, matey?” 

Thwack. “I- I thought I saw some kelp or seaweed rapidly heading downwards, w-with the glowing bits, but I’m s-sure that was just a trick of the imagination!” 

Thwack. Kwazii kept in his grin. “Oh, I see…” 

“...”

“...Out o’ one eye, that is..” 

Peso laughed a little. 

Eventually, they finished up their ping-pong game, Peso excusing himself as he’d been called down to administer a bandage to Shellington, who had simply tripped over his own feet and scraped his wrist a little bit. Kwazii, on the other hand, had a idea. Kelp/and or seaweed? That meant there could be remnants, just outside of the ship! He knew it was obviously a glorious idea, so he headed on down to the launch bay swiftly (did someone say swift? As in Oliver Swift from hit game Dialtown: Phone dating simulator that is on steam for 7.99 but the demo is free so you should totally go play??! Okay back to the story now, sorry). 

Tweak seemed to be keeled over, working on some sort of blueprint. “Tweak?” he asked, jabbing his finger back at the GUP B. “I’d like to take ‘er for a spin.” Tweak looked at Kwazii, then the GUP. “Go ahead,” she stood up, stretching her hands over her head. Kwazii could hear her joints popping. “I’ve been cooped up in ‘ere for a while, anyways, probably good to stand up..” she said, taking a bite out of a carrot as she walked over to the lever. Kwazii hopped in the GUP B with a back-flip. “Open the Octo-hatch, matey!” Tweak pulled the lever, and Kwazii sunk the shark-inspired submarine into the water, darting out. 

Kwazii circled around to where Peso’s bedroom was, and they dived down near the ground, but obviously not hitting it. He was more careful than that. He looked, as just as he had hoped, kelp, and it almost seemed to be leaving a bread-crumb trail. He grinned, and followed along the green path, eventually leading him to a cave. He figured he might want to contact the others…but he also really wanted to go in that cave right at that moment. So he made the frankly stupid and illogical decision to go into the damn cave, speeding along in the GUP B. He was sure it wouldn’t be too deep, especially with a giant monster hidden inside! Plus, this was one he’d never heard of before. 

***

Shellington had to admit, he was a little curious about those supposed fish. He wasn’t one to believe in monsters, or at least in the same ‘genre’ of monsters that Kwazii yapped about from his pirate tales, but the fact that Peso had seen it made it a little more believable. Especially because he couldn’t quite think of anything bioluminescent that would be in the area that they were in, and at the level of the sea they were on. There were animals that were bioluminescent in this depth level, of course, just not any that occurred in this area, and especially at this height. He hadn’t said anything about it at breakfast because he wasn’t entirely sure if they didn’t occur in this area, but with some research, he knew there wasn’t any. 

It was strange, and he was excited at the prospect of a new creature. So, he decided to go and find Peso, question him a little, and see if he could find anything out. He knew he had gone to the infirmary to organize or something after breakfast, so he decided to check there first. Walking out of his lab/bedroom, he sauntered into Peso’s medical area. Peso wasn’t there, unfortunately. The marine biologist figured the next best place to check would probably be the medic’s bedroom, so he jumped into the chute. Now, in between the junctions of Peso’s and Dashi’s (he figured he’d ask her to come along given her camera) rooms, he heard a xylophone and he knocked on Peso’s door. He heard a faint voice, “Come in!” and Shellington walked in. Peso seemed to be mid-xylophone playing, the xylophone mallets still in his grip. “What is it, Shellington?” Peso asked, placing the mallets on the ground. “Well, ah, I don’t suppose you could give me some more information about those supposed bioluminescent fish you saw?” Shellington asked politely. Peso gulped a little. 

“O-Oh, sure- um, what do you need to know?” Shellington smiled, pulling his notebook out of his satchel and sitting down opposite to Peso. “I’d love to know if it looked like one lightsource, or a lot of little ones” he asked. Peso put a hand to his chin. “It- It was like, t-two big circles. Huge. Could’ve been a lot of little ones swimming in circles, though….” Shellington scrawled it down, taking note. He couldn’t think of any animals that behavior matched, and certainly not any in the area they were in. “Hmm.. anything else important?” Shellington asked. Peso shifted. “I did think I saw some seaweed going rapidly down, b-but it was probably nothing… other than that, nothing else, I think.”  Shellington, taking this all into account, nodded. “Thanks, Peso! This will help me figure out what creature or creatures that was!” Shellington said. 

“..Ah, so it’s- probably a- a normal hybrid, right?” Peso asked. Shellington shrugged. “I don’t know yet.. But most likely, aye.” he said, and Peso shakily nodded. The penguin figured that if anyone would know, it’d be Shellington. “Well, goodbye Peso! This helped!” the part otter waved, and the medic waved back, picking up his mallets. 

Shellington was mildly confused–he’d never heard of a creature like this, especially with the ocean greenery thing…he figured that he’d find out soon enough, though, and headed back to his lab to do a little extra research to see if he could find anything that even vaguely matched up to the thing Peso was describing. 

Of course, he ended up finding nothing. A few things seemed possible, but not likely. And just didn’t match up incredibly well with all the descriptors. Shellington knew that the creature had more than likely completely cleared out by this point, but he figured taking a survey of their surroundings probably wasn’t a bad idea, at the very least! It was possible that it’d left something behind, especially if it was covered in seaweed or kelp or something like Peso seemed to be implying. One of the vegimals (Tomminow, specifically) came in at one point to pull him along, and he supposed he’d lost track of time, as it was already lunchtime. He walked with the red-haired vegetable to the dining area/kitchen area, and everyone besides Kwazii were already sitting down. Shellington sat down next to Dashi, who was next to Tweak, who was next to the Captain. Across from the Captain was Peso, and next to Peso was the Professor. “Ah, glad you joined us, Shellington,” the Captain said, plunging his fork into some food. 

“Aye, Captain.” he said, and glancing around, he discovered––No sight of the horrendously freckled ginger. “Where’s Kwazii?” Shellington asked. Tweak put a finger up (“one second” without words) as she finished chewing and swallowing whatever (likely carrot-based) thing she was eating. “He asked to take th’ GUP-B out earlier. I figure he’s jus’ still out there, doin’...tricks, or somethin’.” she explained. Shellington nodded, taking a clam sandwich. “Yes, speaking of…” the Captain pulled out his Octo-compass, clicking one of the buttons on the side. He pressed something on it, before saying, “Captain Barnacles to Kwazii. Barnacles to Kwazii, are you there?” Shellington heard the static noise coming from the yellow compass. 

He also heard the Captain’s sigh. “Of course.” he looked to Peso. “Peso,” and Peso nodded, jumping out of his seat. “Tweak?” Tweak shoved another bite into her mouth, flashing a thumbs up and swinging herself out of her place on the bench. “Wait, Captain-” Shellington asked, and the Captain looked back. “Yes, Shellington?” he asked.  “Do you mind if I come with you?” he asked. The polar bear hybrid looked confused for a moment, but ultimately ended up nodding. Shellington practically jumped out of his seat, yoinking another sandwich for the road. Following behind the other three, they all jumped down the chute to the launch bay. 

They ended up going in the GUP C, (“It’s more than likely he got stuck somewhere, and it’s better safe than sorry”) the three inside of it. The vegimals also brought down some fish biscuits, since this was done in the middle of lunch. They’d at least need something to hold them off before they could get back and finish, or … even in time for dinner, in all honesty, given the fact that nobody knew where Kwazii had gone. 

As they jumped in, Peso piped up. “C-Captain, it might be possible that Kwazii was looking for the glowy things I s-saw last night, he was asking about it…” the Captain sighed a little. “Of course he did. He’d likely look where you saw it, right, outside your window, Peso?” the Captain asked, and Peso nodded. Shellington grinned—-this was perfect! He might actually be able to figure out what that creature was! He did regret not calling up Dashi, but he figured that if they needed backup, Captain Barnacles would contact her and Tweak pretty quickly. 

***

Barnacles was annoyed, a tad. Kwazii really needed to tell him where he was going, it was getting quite frustrating. As much as he cared about the pirate, it was a little aggravating. Either way, he swooped near Peso’s bedroom. It was empty inside, of course. “Hm..” the Captain dipped down in the water, and noticed something on the floor. “...Kelp? Why is it lying on the floor like that?” he wondered aloud, and Peso gasped. “Oh, I didn’t mention this a-at dinner, but- I saw that dipping down after I saw the lights…” Shellington pointed, “It does look a little like a path, aye?” he asked. The Captain blinked. It did. 

“Good observation, Shellington. Let’s follow it, I have no doubt Kwazii did.” he said, as they followed along the ‘path’. Soon enough, after a little bit of following it along, they came across a cave. They all knew exactly where Kwazii had gone. “I think we’re going to need backup.” Barnacles said, and he pressed a button on the GUP D’s panel. “Captain Barnacles to the HQ,” he said into the microphone. The little screen showed Dashi. “Captain? What is it?” she asked, swiveling in her chair. “We’re gonna need backup. Can you and Tweak bring the GUP Q, and other supplies? We believe Kwazii went into a cave..” Dashi nodded. “On it, Captain!” she said, and the transmission ended as quickly as it started. “Now we just wait.” 

After a little bit, Tweak and Dashi arrived in the GUP Q pretty quickly. As soon as they got there, they noticed the GUP C parked outside of a massive cave. Dashi was surprised it hadn’t been marked on the map at all, but didn’t think about it much past that. Likely just an oversight or something. They all jumped out of their respective GUPS, chatting in the water to clarify everything. Barnacles started, “Somebody should stay in the GUP C outside, just in case.” Tweak raised her hand innocently. “I can stay back, Cap.” she offered. The Captain nodded. “Anyone else? Peso, I’d prefer you stay with me in case he’s hurt. We all know his affinity for that.”

“Captain, I really would like to go, as well.” While Shellington didn’t state why, Barnacles knew him well enough to deduce why—there could be a new creature in there. And of course, the polar-bear hybrid wasn’t about to not let him even if he wouldn’t be entirely focused on what they were actually going in for. So, he responded with a nod. “Very well. Dashi?” he asked. Dashi put a hand to her chin, bracelets clinking. “I really would like to take some pictures inside the cave, but,” she looked back at Tweak. “I don’t want Tweak to be all alone out here.” she said. Tweak blinked. “Aw, Dashi. Don’t worry, I’ll be just alright out ‘ere! If anythin’, I can call over th’ vegimals to keep me company.” Dashi grinned. “Well, it’s settled then. I’ll go with the rest of you.” 

So, they bid adieu to Tweak, and all jumped in the GUP Q. It was loaded, of course. Since it was their designated cave-GUP (and after the close call with Sac-actun), they had all sorts of supplies inside. About a million flashlights, a couple cave-diving suits, Ryla’s old and new cave-diving books that she had gifted the crew, and loads of air-tanks. All good things to keep handy for their adventures.  As they started gliding through the cave, it got smaller and smaller. That on its own wasn’t that surprising, but how rapidly it was was a little worrying. Eventually, they came to a crossroads. Two different paths, and both too tiny for the full GUP to fit. 

All four of them got suited up. Dashi and Barnacles on one of the Q-scooters, and Shellington and Peso on the other. They were split up like that for a few reasons. At the very least, Barnacles knew basic first aid (given his role as Captain) and Peso was obviously the designated medic, so if either group came across their beloved pirate friend, if he was hurt, they could both help at least a little. And so that either way if they came across a new creature, they could document it one way or another (with a photo from Dashi or a quick sketch from Shellington). 

Of course, each group brought six flashlights. Two for each Octonaut, and two more for if/when they found Kwazii. Both also brought an extra suit and three extra air tanks. Both also brought a few canteens of freshwater and some fish biscuits. Everybody hoped it wouldn’t come to that but, even if it was excessive, it was better safe than sorry. Barnacles and Peso were in front of their respective scooters. Barnacles because he was the Captain (and taller) and Peso because he was a much better driver and didn’t get as easily distracted as Shellington. And then, they went on their merry way to find the ginger cat. 

Barnacles navigated through the caves, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Even if he was much better about tight spaces now, he still preferred to stay out of them. Eventually, he and Dashi came onto another forked path. He looked back up at Dashi, who had her camera in her hands, unafraid as always. “I think we should head right. Look at this,” she said, holding up her camera with a picture on it, of the outside of the cave, which was mainly inside a bit seamount. “It looks like there’s more over on the right side. So I think we should go that way, since we’re presumably getting near the edge now.” she said, and Barnacles agreed. “Great deductive reasoning, Dashi. Let’s.” he turned the Q-scooter to the right, and they continued down the winding tunnels of the cave. 

As they descended, Dashi still kept her camera up, ready to snap a shot at any moment. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to capture. Just gray and brown stone that made up the walls of the cave. There weren’t many hybrids of any sort, sure maybe a few, but not many. Nothing that interesting, either. A few pieces of kelp were on the ground, which both Captain and photographer thought was strange, but figured somebody’d just dragged that in while coming back home. But, traversing through the dark caves, they saw…more kelp?  Dashi snapped a shot. Suddenly, Dashi tapped the Captain and he slowed the scooter. “Yes, Da-” she put a hand over his mouth, and whispered, “Listen.” Barnacles raised a brow, but halted his speech regardless. Sure enough, in the distance, he heard something. It was hard to distinguish, though there was something. Sounded a little like…. “...do you think it’s Kwazii?” he asked. Dashi pursed her lips, and shrugged. Silently, they moved forward–hopefully they’d be able to find their pirate comrade soon enough. 

***

Shellington had almost fallen off the scooter about three times now. He kept on leaning over, trying to look at hybrids and plants. “Dr Sh-” Peso started,  “Just Shellington,” he interrupted, not facing Peso at all and instead looking at some sort of plant on the cave’s floor. “S-Shellington,” the medic continued, “Please don’t lean as m-much…I’d prefer you not fall off.” Shellington murmured a “Mhm”, clearly not paying attention. Peso sighed, stopping the scooter and facing back towards Shellington, grabbing his face with his hands. “Aye?”

“Sh-Shellington. Flappity Flippers, you’re gonna fall off if you keep on leaning like that! Please, try not to lean as much..” he said, and Shellington nodded. “Aye, Peso.” Peso released his face cheeks from his grip. He swiveled back around, eyes back on the descent into the deep. He gulped. He wasn’t a big fan of the dark. At least the Q-scooters had lights on the front of them, plus between the two of them, they had six flashlights. Peso cruised forward in the Q-scooter, going down the winding hallway. Suddenly, Shellington grabbed Peso’s shoulder. “Peso! Look!” he said, excited. Peso turned back, and looked at what Shellington was pointing at (Oh, his nails were painted, probably by Dashi, that’s nice) and it just looked like…a  piece of kelp? Or maybe seaweed? On the ground… “...w-what about that?” he asked. Shellington jumped off the scooter. “sh-sheLLINGTON?!” He pulled out his magnifying glass from his satchel, and unclipped his flashlight. He held his magnifying glass up to the greens, his flashlight shining right on it. “Hmm..” he muttered.  “Wh- what’s so interesting about that, Shellington?” Peso asked. “It- It looks like kelp and seaweed twisted together! Very fascinating…” he said. He pulled out a small container from his satchel, and stuffed the ocean plants inside. “I’ll look at it more in the lab.” he said, jumping back on the Q-scooter. Peso sighed, and the two of them were off again, down the ways of the cave again. But as they went forward, there was more kelp and seaweed, which confused Shellington. “That’s odd… if anything, it should be the opposite…” he had pulled out his notebook and scrawled it down, and Peso had told him to grab onto something so he wouldn't fall off (that something ended up being Peso’s waist). As they trekked further and further, it just kept getting stranger, and more kelp and seaweed… 

And of course, Shellington kinda forgot Peso’s earlier advice. His stomach was on the seat of the Q-scooter, and he was leaning over so that his face was near the ground. Peso heard a thud a few seconds later. Peso stopped the Q-scooter suddenly, and glanced back over his shoulder to look behind him. Of course, Shellington was laying there, face down on the ground. Peso hopped off the Q-scooter, swimming down to the otter-hybrid. Shellington weakly pushed himself off the ground with his arms. “Oh, the helmet protected you. That’s good!” Peso said, and Shellington nodded. “Aye.” “Please, no more leaning, Shellington.” the bird pleaded. Shellington nodded. 

They both got back on the Q-scooter, and continued on their journey. Peso just hoped he and Shellington or Barnacles and Dashi would be able to find their fellow Octonaut again. He did really hope the guy was okay—sure, he was a lot, but he obviously cared about Kwazii. Even if he did get hurt a lot (usually his tail—-Peso was honestly shocked it was still attached, in truth) and if he was kinda cocky most of the time. 

Cruising through the cave’s waterways, Peso and Shellington were making their way through, with still no sight of Kwazii. Shellington was finally listening to Peso, as he wasn’t leaning as much. No contact from Captain Barnacles or Dashi, either, Peso realized. He figured it wasn’t a bad idea to try, right? So he pressed a button, and the screen was all staticky for a moment, but then he saw the Captain’s face. Whew. He thought, briefly. “Captain?” he asked. It was grainy and not unlike a old radio, but Peso could make out what he was saying, “Y—--s, Pe—------ee—-e-s–oo-oo?” Yes, Peso? Was what he figured the Captain was trying to say. “Have you two found anything?” he asked back. 

“N—-oo-oo-o si—----ght of Kwazii, b-uu-u-u-t, [static] noo-is—e oises, th—--at–at -at [static] s–o-o-o–ound, l—ike they c-oould [static] -im-him-im-m-m.” Peso could barely make it out, but he figured it was something like No sight of Kwazii, but there are noises that sound like they could [be] him. Peso nodded. “We’ve had no signs,” and Shellington interjected, “Just found this strange mixture of seaweed and kelp, I plan on studying it back at the lab!” Peso nodded. The Captain looked like he was giving a thumbs up. “G—ooo-d –uck-uck, P–es-es-o a—n–n-d She–lll–llin—lling–g–t-to–oon-n!” Good luck, Peso and Shellington! Peso nodded. “To you too, Captain!” The Captain looked like he gave another thumbs up. “E–n—ding–ing-ing-ing tra–traa—n–s—mi-mi–ssion” Ending transmission. Peso nodded, and the screen went back to complete static. “I really hope those noises they hear are actually him…” Peso mumbled, and Shellington nodded. 

***

CLICK! Another few strange stray plants on the ground, and if she’d heard Shellington right, they were apparently a mix of seaweed and kelp. Of course, it’d been hard to hear both doctors, given how staticky all the transmissions were in the cave, (“s—s—-t—ran–ra-range–e mix–ix--ture of s—ea–sea—-we—-eeeee—d an—d–d k–kel–kel—el–p”) but she’d been able to gather that piece of information from the marine biologist. And, the sounds they’d heard before were… much less frequent. Still there, and getting louder, but much less than before.

That worried both the Captain and Dashi herself, but she kept a smile on. She and the Captain were probably the two most ‘cool-and-collected’ of the crew. The Captain in more of a leadership way, and Dashi in more of a chill way, though. Dashi practically never panicked—the Captain rarely did, but it was slightly more often the account of his claustrophobia and the fact he was actually out and about much more frequently then Dashi was. Even considering that, Dashi couldn't remember a time when she had actually panicked before. Sure, maybe a little nervous or worried, but that’s an entirely different feeling. 

Either way, they were trekking forward. Then, a turn. Of course the path hadn’t been entirely linear before, but this was the biggest change in direction besides the fork in the road prior. The Captain looked back at her, and she nodded. They turned, and Dashi held up her camera and snapped a picture (it was practically her version of a gasp, which the Captain actually did). A gargantuan cleared out area. Well, not entirely.

Dashi snapped another shot of the creature. It was huge—Dashi guessed about two school buses long. They couldn’t see its face, a mass of seaweed and kelp (or what looked like seaweed and kelp, at least) covering its entire head and stretching down onto its scarred, greenish back. Huge, fin-like arms with claw-like hands at the end, and a massive eel-like tail, gills visible. Its body slowly pulsed–sleeping, Dashi presumed. The Captain looked back at her and put a finger up to his lips: Stay silent. Dashi nodded. They didn’t know what this thing was, how dangerous it was. It could be poisonous to the touch, or have a venomous bite, or just sharp teeth in general, or hell even produce electricity. They planned on leaving at that moment, until Dashi noticed something (or more like someone). 

She rapidly tapped the Captain on the shoulder, and pointed, bracelets clinking. There was that familiar ginger. No sign of the GUP B, though. His tail was wedged between the rocks, it looked. He was clearly struggling to get out. The Captain motioned for Dashi to get off, and she did. She didn’t know what he was planning, but he always did have a plan of some sorts. And he’d never failed them before.

So, Dashi examined her multi-colored nails (She had recently convinced Tweak to paint them with her, and had ended up painting her own as green and pink (“It’s Salmon, not pink, Dashi” “Sure, sure”) as a tribute to the engineer, while the green-haired woman would only accept black or perhaps a dark green) as she watched the Captain maneuver the Q-scooter over to the pirate. Holding her camera up to her brown eyes once more, she looked through the view of the yellow device. It whirred as she zoomed into the Captain, who had now reached Kwazii by this point. 

Squinting one eye and closing the other, snap, another picture. She watched as the Captain tugged at the distressed Kwazii, slipping his hands between his tail and the slippery rocks chaining him to the cave’s wall and attempting to release him. She saw the creature stir, plant-like appendages billowing in the minor currents of the sea-cave. It stirred again. Dashi pursed her lips. Once more. She clenched her teeth. It struck her—the creature was waking up. She pressed against the call bit on her helmet, fingernail firmly pressing down. “Dashi to Captain Barnacles. Captain, I believe the creature may be waking up–be careful.” she said, not a single shake in her voice. She saw the Captain dip his hand down, sliding his hand along the creature, before shoving his hand into the crack trapping Kwazii in the stone. 

He managed to pull the cat out of the crack, suddenly. Dashi knew it was over when she could hear Kwazii’s exclamation: “Yeow!” and she saw two, blinding white lights. Eyes. Her memory flashed: “Um, I uh- I thought I saw two, round, bright, lights that kinda looked like eyes outside my wind-dow,”

Huh. She supposed Peso really had seen something, then. But she knew that wasn’t what should be on her mind. They could figure that out later, (and despite those thoughts, she held up her camera and clicked, bracelets sliding down her forearm) and she saw the creature slowly rise, and the Captain and Kwazii hop on the Q-scooter. Dashi raised her hand, and felt the Captain’s hand wrap around her wrist. It cruised fast, and the water whipped against her skin. Her bracelets rattled. Despite that, she still snapped a few shots as the creature was now swimming after them. She managed to shift herself onto the scooter, sitting behind Kwazii. “Dashi,” The Captain took a sharp breath, “Get another air tank for Kwazii.” he commanded. Dashi reached back, grabbing one and switching out Kwazii’s old one for a new one, securing the old one in the back. “Thanks, matey,” Kwazii breathily thanked. “Of course.” she said. 

The Captain yelled—not an ounce of fear lacing his words. “Contact the doctors” (Shellington and Peso) “and tell them to start heading back now!” he firmly ordered. Dashi nodded sharply, gripping onto the scooter as she pressed her finger against her helmet once more. “Dashi to Shellington and Peso! Dashi to Shellington and Peso!” she was met with static. “They’re not responding, Captain. We’re too far away.” 

The Captain growled, baring his teeth. Not in frustration at his crewmates, of course–just at the circumstances. The dog hybrid knew him well enough by this point to know that. “Dashi, take my Octo-compass and attempt to contact Shellington and Peso from there-–it should have a stronger connection than your helmet and be able to reach them,” he stated, plucking the yellow, circular compass off his utility belt and handing it backwards to Dashi as they weaved through the cave’s systems. Dashi took it in her hands, quickly tapping the button on the side of it. She called their Q-scooter. It only took a few moments of stutters and glitches to get through, and she saw Peso’s (glitch covered, to some extent) face. “Capt- er, Dashi?” he responded, confusion protruding in his speech. “Peso, you and Shellington need to get out of there now.” she commanded, calmly. She was always good at that, keeping her voice calm. 

People’d said before she reminded them of a secretary, or the lady you hear on the airplane. That was probably part of the reason why she was hired as a flight attendant all that time ago–her calm demeanor. She was always good at customer service. She’d worked in a few of those jobs as a teen for some extra cash. Dashi was always grateful for her upbringing, even if a bit neglectful, so she never needed to do that sort of thing to support her family, but she liked spending money on all the things she liked. Nail polish, pretty dresses and skirts, bracelets and beads, makeup. Her parents didn’t care much that she was trans, but they didn’t really…do much. They slipped up on the name sometimes, but that wasn’t often. To be fair, that may just be because it wasn’t like they talked much in the first place….Her parents basically never sent her or Koshi gifts, though. Sometimes for Christmas, if they were lucky. So she got presents for Koshi. She’d always had to take care of herself and her little sister, as her parents were often away on business trips and the like. They were beginning to decrease on that when she started working as a flight attendant, actually. Either way, she was appreciative of the life she was given. Even if her parents weren’t around much, if she asked for things they’d usually send over money. That was how she paid for her ballet lessons, in secret, when she was younger, and later her brief surfing lessons (she later discovered she liked learning on her own). 

Not quite the point, though. So, her conversation with Peso continued. “Wh- why? Did you guys get Kwazii?” Peso asked, voice stuttering, partially from the glitchy connection and partially just because he was an anxiety ridden kinda guy. “We’ve gotten him, yes. Unfortunately,” Dashi held the compass out so that Peso could see the creature chasing after them, which Dashi just now noticed was slamming against the walls as it did so, rocks falling as it knocked them down. “Something else wants to get us, too.” she finished, pulling the device closer to herself. “Flappity flippers!” Peso squeaked. “Yup. So, you guys should get out of there—-now. Especially in case this place comes crashing down,” she stated, and Peso looked petrified, even through the tiny screen of the compass, but nodded regardless. “W-will do, Dashi.” he said, and Dashi hovered her finger over the end transmission button. “Ending transmission,” she said, before clicking the button. 

She glanced back at the creature chasing them, deciding to examine its features a little more. She put the compass between her legs for the moment, and held up her camera. She snapped a few shots, looking closer at the thing’s face through the screen. Its mouth was….strange. It looked disconnected, into about seven to nine slits. It was hard to tell, as they were opening and closing, as well as the fact that both parties were going at high speeds, though she could tell it was an odd number, with one primary one in the middle and the other slits to the right and left of it. Its skin was a muted green, and the kelp/seaweed that made up its “hair” was darker than its presumably slimy skin. Its eyes (or at least what Dashi was pretty sure were its eyes) were a bright white, maybe a tint of yellow to them. Dashi had never seen anything like this creature before—-her first thought was a heavily mutated whale hybrid or something, but its tail resembled more of a eel (and Dashi was fairly certain eels, even mutated hybridized ones, couldn’t get that big) rather than a classic whale or dolphin tail. Dashi wondered if she could get a good enough shot to get one of her photos on the Natural Seaographic again. So, she snapped more. She figured at least one of those sleeping ones were pretty clear, even if these ones were incredibly blurry, so discovering a new creature or mutation like this was sure to get her some sort of feature. 

Idly, as the currents whipped against her face and her hair blew in the water, she thought about how Shellington and Peso were doing. She reckoned they were okay—-they’d have called in by now otherwise—-though she couldn’t help but wonder. She presumed they were likely cruising along quickly, but at a slower pace than they were, given the fact that they didn’t have the imminent danger of a creature chasing after them. Dashi clicked a few more pictures, and she realized the creature was lagging behind a little bit. It must be getting tired, she thought. It made sense, given how such a huge creature would likely need a lot of energy, and they had interrupted its nap. As she thought, she realized something. Tweak. She doesn’t know about this yet. She thought, and compass in hand, she spoke. “Captain, should we contact Tweak?” she asked, but she already knew the answer, turning the Octo-compass on and scrolling down to Tweak’s little icon. “Yes, immediately–I cannot believe that slipped my mind. Great thinking, Dashi,” the Captain said, still as thoughtful with his words as ever despite the predicament. Dashi tapped the engineer’s icon.  It only took a moment for Tweak to respond, through the lens of one of the cameras on the GUP Q. “Cap– wait, Dashi? What’s goin’ on?” she asked, and Dashi held out the compass to the side to show the creature, at least to some extent, before pulling it in close to her face again. “We’re being chased, at the moment, by so-” Kwazii interrupted her, “We’re bein’ preyed on by some sorta beast, not one that I recognize…” Dashi normally would’ve corrected him, but this time? She wasn’t sure she could, at least not accurately. There wasn’t much other way to describe the creature chasing them. “For once, he’s right.” Dashi stated, and Kwazii mewled a “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” Dashi ignored his interjection, wanting to convey as much information to Tweak as possible and not waste time with useless bickering. 

“It’s an unrecognizable creature of sorts… I took some pictures I can show later. But, at the moment, you probably want to rev up the GUP Q and attach the GUP C to it so we can make a quick getaway. I don’t think this thing is willing to chat.” Dashi spoke clearly, and Tweak nodded. “On it, Dashi!” Tweak said, and Dashi smiled. “Ending transmission.” she clicked the button just as Tweak could be seen nodding her head. The Captain thanked her briefly, before focusing back on their path. Dashi felt like this should have been quicker, in all honesty, and that they should’ve been out of the cave by now. And as if her prayers were answered, she saw a sliver of light out of her peripheral vision. With Captain Barnacles behind the wheel, the Q scooter raced around the corner, and Dashi squinted at the bright light—she’d gotten a tad used to the darkness of the caverns, and now the glaring glow of the sunlight seeping through the ocean’s surface hurt her eyes. Seemed to hurt Kwazii’s eyes (or eye, she supposed) more, though, as he let out a little hiss and looked away completely instead of just closing or squinting his eyes. But soon, the GUP Q came into view. She noticed Shellington and Peso inside—she was a little surprised they got there before them, but in retrospect, it made sense. They likely weren’t as far in given Shellington’s tendencies to either fall off, stop to observe, etc. etc. The Captain immediately slid back into the GUP Q’s area for the scooters, and just as he did, the creature burst out of the cave, rock crumbling around it, arms stretched out and gaping mouths opening uproariously. The Captain slammed on the radio button, but he didn’t have to. Tweak immediately slammed on the brakes, rapidly turning the GUP Q around and pedaling the hell out of there. 

The GUP Q cruised quickly through the depths, the creature now much faster in the open water instead of being confined within a cave. Dashi gripped for dear life onto the scooter—they hadn’t gotten the chance yet to get actually into the GUP Q yet, given how they were actively being pursued by a literal monster thing. The water whipped against them. Dashi glanced back—yeah, she was certain the creature was utterly pissed at them. No way it wasn’t. Dashi struggled against the currents, but still managed to hand the Captain his compass again, and he tapped it shakily. “Tweak, try to get it off our tail,” he spoke as clearly as possible, but it was a tad difficult given the situation. His words vibrated. 

Tweak responded, “On it, Cap!” and the GUP Q swerved to the side, “Hold on tight, everyone!” she yelled, speeding up and rapidly zig-zagging back and forth to try to get the kelp creature off their trail. Dashi couldn’t see Kwazii’s face, though she had a feeling he was grinning maniacally, given his personality and what she knew about the fella. As they wildly raced through the waves, Dashi glanced back. It seemed to be tiring, if only slightly. Its movements were shoddy and one of its eyes (or at least what Dashi assumed were its eyes) was squinting. Dashi hoped this wouldn’t go on for much longer, and she was glad that it seemed it likely wouldn’t, if she was reading the creature correctly. It was somewhat hard to when the creature in question was so hard to tell the emotions of given it’s facial structure, but she was trying, and she was usually pretty good at accurately figuring out people’s emotions. 

It was part of the reason she and Shellington were so close, actually. For many, it was sorta hard to tell what he was feeling when it wasn’t excitement or him babbling about a marine animal, but Dashi oftentimes seemed to read him quite accurately, leading to them becoming pretty damn close. Certainly best friends! Either way, even despite that prior experience, Dashi couldn’t entirely tell what the thing was thinking, again besides that it seemed to be tiring. 

As they strided through the rough tides, it slowed, and slowed, until after a long while, it was nothing more than a faint outline in their view. “Cap,” Tweak came in, less staticky now, through the radio, “I think we’ve lost it. Y’all should get inside,” she suggested, and the Captain nodded, inhaling to steady himself. “Great idea, Tweak,” he responded, and Tweak flashed a thumbs up. “I’ll open th’ bottom hatch!” She said, walking over to a different area of the control panel as the three mammals hopped off the scooter, swimming underneath into the GUP-Q, and eventually surfacing into the GUP. With a few clicks and whirs, their helmets were down and they all breathed a breath of (slightly fresher) air. 

Of course, Shellington was the first to speak up. “….so did you get any pictures?” He asked, obviously directed towards Dashi, with one hand lightly grasping onto his satchel, other hovering by his side. “Shellington!” The Captain lightly scolded, and the otter innocently held up his hands. Before he could defend himself though, Dashi jumped in, smiling serenely and holding up her camera. “It’s alright Captain. I did, after all.” Shellington silently pumped his fist. “I managed to get samples of kelp nearby, too!” He excitedly exclaimed, “it might have even been from the creature! Oh, I can’t wait to analyze the ph-“ the Captain cleared his throat, and Shellington shut his mouth immediately. 

“We can focus on that once we get back to the Octopod. Tweak?” He swiveled his head towards her, hands still interlocked behind his straight back all professionally, and Tweak looked up. “I’ll set th’ course for home, Cap!” She half-jokingly saluted, turning back to the controls and clicking a few buttons. The GUP Q revved back up into action within seconds, and before long they were cruising back home, to their beloved Octopod. 

*** 

The Captain, along with the rest of the Octonauts observed the photos Dashi had taken, after Shellington had ran down to his bedroom to start some tests on the kelp-seaweed twist. The most clear pictures were when it was asleep, given they didn’t have to be taken in motion, but the other photos were still helpful. Barnacles hadn’t gotten the chance to properly look at the creature while they were blasting off from it, so he hadn’t seen its face. Big, white-ish circular eyes and a strange multi-segmented mouth were the two noticeable features, even if the second was hard to discern given the blur from the photos showing that. 

Peso had reluctantly been the one to speak up first, shockingly before Shellington. “Th-that is definitely w-what was outside my window,” he shakily confirmed. The thought had crossed Barnacles' mind, of course. There was no doubt this was the thing Peso had seen. But, it worried him immensely. Of course, he’d never show that worry, he was the leader, though it still chipped away at him. Why would it do that? What could possibly be the reason why it just…. Came up to Peso’s window in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason whatsoever? It didn’t bang on the glass or anything according to Pesos account, either. He reasoned it was just curious, though the thought still nagged at the back of his mind. Kwazii’s voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“Knew it ‘‘twas some sorta beastie!” Barnacles glared at him. Kwazii muttered a small “sorry, Peso…” Peso just nodded in forgiveness. After not long, Shellington spoke once more. “Dashi, can you send me the photos?” He asked, and she swiveled in her chair. “Of course!” She answered, and Shellington curtly nodded. “I’ll be off to get these in the lab,” he said, walking backwards as he pointed towards his satchel, alluding to the samples left inside. Barnacles let him go. While all of this was interesting, of course, there wasn’t much else to do while they were waiting on that. 

After a moment, “Anyone wanna play ping pong?” 

***

Shellington had finally gotten the results back from the labs. He’d shared some of it with the Captain, given how he wanted to go somewhere specific because of the results. He had gotten a decent chunk of information from them. Hopefully, with these labs, they’d be able to figure out where this thing came from. Given its slight similarity to the vegimals, who were also plant-(presumably, for the creature)-human-fish (or just general marine animal) hybrids, Shellington had plucked a hair from Tunip and a leaf that had fallen off Tomminow’s tail. The creature’s DNA, or at least the amount he was able to get, confirmed a few of his suspicions.  It had human, plant (kelp and seaweed), eel, and blue whale DNA. The human shone through the general humanoid shape, namely the torso, face, and hands. The plant bits seemed to give it its green coloring, as well as the oddity that was its “hair”. The eel bit seemed to be the eyes and most obviously the tail, and the blue whale bits seemed to mainly be its size but also the fin-like appendages on its arms. The vegimals Shellington already knew most everything about—the types of fish and vegetables they were combined with namely. He also, obviously, knew their age given how he was literally there for the hatching. 

The creature was a couple years older than the vegimals, which matched up with Shellington’s current theory running through his head. His notes were detailed, but a little incomprehensible for the moment. 

VEGIMALS & THE CREATURE CONNECTIONS 

The creatures' plants are notably sea plants, not land plants like the vegimals. Possible reasons for this could be:

Easier access to those plants (most likely/def part of the reason)

Was just a experiment, not meant to actually be used for any recreational means 

Possibly the land plants were not compatible with either the eel or blue whale bits?

The creature is most definitely mutated to some extent—I doubt the mouth is intentional. I believe that the size was certainly on purpose, with the blue whale genes—it could’ve been created to make a “living garden” of sorts, but that’s just a theory. 

But I think the most important thing that we got was the location where that thing came from—with the analysis, we were able to figure out what specific types of eels and plants were used and have nailed down an area. We will be going there tomorrow. I will update these notes during that. 

Shellington shut the notebook, walking over to his bed and sliding on his slippers, pulling on his nightgown and nightcap, and settling into his bed that the next morning would launch him into his seat. He slept rather peacefully, even it was a little hard to get to sleep given his excitement. But against his own wants, he forced himself into slumber—he needed to be well-rested for tomorrow. Maybe he’d finally figure out what madman made the vegimals (and by extension, the creature).

He woke up being launched, as expected, and landed in his chair. He blinked himself awake, glanced over at the tablet lodged in the wall. He had about thirty minutes before breakfast, and right after breakfast, they were going to be going off. He was ecstatic. He didn’t go out as much, and certainly not in such an exciting opportunity—-the vegimals were one thing, yet finally finding out where they came from?! It was exhilarating! He was certain he’d never want to recreate these experiments, still, knowing was enough for him. He didn’t really have much to do, so he decided he could go and try to help the vegimals or the Professor or something. 

***

Breakfast had been good, cooked by the vegimals as usual. They’d done a great job, as always. Now, Shellington was with the Captain and Dashi, helping with figuring out where exactly they were going. While the labs gave him a general area, unfortunately they didn’t have an exact location, so they were trying to narrow it down to exactly where they were going to investigate. With any luck, whoever that lunatic was who’d done this was either still there or it was abandoned, hopefully with all the notes still intact. 

After only a little bit of searching on the maps, though, it wasn’t too hard to find. The only lab in that area was abandoned, never to open up again. Apparently there had been some sort of accident or incident there that’d closed it off from business for good. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much information besides that, so Shellington figured they’d just have to gather that information when they arrived. Barnacles was mildly concerned about the legality of this whole exploration, though Shellington was able to convince him (with the help of Kwazii, who was more than happy to help coerce their Captain into letting them go into a creepy old “mad-scientist” (as Kwazii called it) laboratory) to let them go anyways. The area around looked pretty abandoned, too, so Shellington doubted there’d be security or anything. Or just…. Anyone. 

So, they arrived at the coast later that day. The Octopod brought them (Shellington, the Captain, Kwazii, Peso, and Dashi) to the shore, before diving back down under the surface of the water to be concealed. They’d brought a variety of supplies: 

A couple flashlights, obviously. Everybody had two. 

Some emergency snacks (fish biscuits) plus water

Blacklight flashlights, just in case (only two, though).

A crowbar

Shellington’s usual day-to-day supplies (everything in his satchel: his notebook, magnifying glass, pencil, test tubes, etc)

Plus a few other supplies. Shellington didn’t notice it through his own excitement, though Peso was afraid. His scaredy-cat-ness had gotten better over time, though sometimes things still spooked him. An abandoned laboratory that had at once point held a creature that had attempted to eat all of them? Certainly horrifying. Peso couldn’t help but worry there were more creatures like that still contained, mean ones like the creature and not sweet ones like the vegimals that everyone had grown rather fond of (at this point, none of them could imagine life without the little fellas). 

Stepping onto the sand, they began the short trek. Fortunately, the abandoned lab was relatively close to the coast, so they didn’t have to hike far. With a little bit of climbing rocks (with the help of the Captain and Kwazii), they got to the entranceway relatively easily. It was nailed over with wooden bars. “Hm,” was all Shellington said before Kwazii pushed him aside, “Let me handle this one, matey,” he claimed, twirling his crowbar before hooking it under one of the planks, pulling backward with his feet on the door. It came off, but he landed on his back. “Yeow!” He got the second and third boards off in a similar fashion, even with the Captain’s insistence he could do it. 

Kwazii widely opened the door, letting them all inside first before he dashed in after them. Dashi flicked a light switch on the wall, though, expectedly—the area remained dark. All of them clicked on a flashlight, and the room was slightly more visible. Debris was scattered across the ground, things knocked over. Looked like someone had left in a hurry, except that someone was also a damn tornado. Shellington walked over to a random counter, noticing a notebook on it. He flipped through it. Nothing interesting. Disappointed, he rejoined the rest of the group to continue snooping around. They seemed to just be in the lobby of the lab, which made sense. The door they’d entered looked like a front door, anywho. Two big red doors were just off to the left, which Shellington entered without any acknowledgement of that to the rest of them. Kwazii followed after him, clearly wishing for adventure. 

As they walked in, they were greeted by a long hallway. It didn’t look too different from a hospital, honestly. Shellington decided on walking into the first door they saw. Inside, a few empty tanks, some test tubes dry on a shelf. Shellington looked around. He heard Kwazii tapping his foot impatiently behind him, though he paid no mind to it. Even after looking through all the cupboards, (Kwazii had complained about that, groaning, “Matey, you’ve been in there for ages” while grossly exaggerating the last word, which Shellington responded with, “Just another minute!”) he didn’t find anything of value. He found it odd that a few things were slightly out of place or knocked onto the floor, still he didn’t question it much. He had other things to worry about, to find. 

So, they walked into the next room, Kwazii being the first one to enter, though being visibly disappointed when there once again wasn’t anything all that interesting, especially not to him. Shellington noted that more things were knocked over in this room, yet he still brushed it off. Again, nothing interesting. 

So, the two of them searched from room to room, and as they went further down the hallway, there seemed to be more knocked over, more stuff weirdly out of place. Kwazii didn’t notice it at all at first, though eventually, he spoke about it. “Shellington… maybe it be just me, but..” Kwazii motioned outwardly towards the rest of the room with his  “Doesn’t it be weird that more stuff be knocked over every room we go into?” He asked, face a little scrunched and hands helplessly in the air in questioning. Shellington put a hand to his chin, other resting on the strap of his bag. “Aye, I.. I noticed that too. I reckon it’s nothing, though. Or it could be linked to that accident that they said happened…” Shellington idly thought, before looking back up. “I suppose we’ll just have to see as we continue.” he said, and the two of them briefly searched the room before moving on. Kwazii had to begun to help to “get it over with quicker”, and while Shellington was a little worried he’d overlook something important as he would find it “boring”, though he just decided to brush that thought off. He wanted to actually find something, too, so moving quicker wasn’t a bad idea. 

Eventually, the rest of the group joined up with them, as they’d finished looking through everything in the lobby, to no avail. Dashi had taken a few pictures, Peso had stayed close to the Captain most of the time. Now they could help look around, too, and hopefully soon they’d actually find something. Shellington was really hoping they wouldn’t come up empty-handed, otherwise this whole thing would’ve been completely and utterly pointless. Obviously, that’d suck. So, they went through all the rooms, before they got to another set of large, red doors, with “LEVEL THREE PERSONNEL ONLY. DANGEROUS.” Kwazii, without any prompting, spoke, “So how do we plan on gettin’ in, mateys?” he asked, and the Captain almost looked like he was about to protest, but he sighed. He held out his hand. “Crowbar, Kwazii?” he asked, and Kwazii grinned maniacally, placing it into the polar bear’s large palm. “Please, everyone. Step back.” he requested, and everyone did as they were told. 

Stepping far back and holding the crowbar high above his head, he charged, and Shellington thought he saw something sprouting out of the Captain’s head and his arms getting a little furry and clawed, though it lasted only a moment before the door was burst open, and the small tidbits of the polar bear parts of him disappeared in a instant. Peso muttered “f-flappity flippers…” under his breath as the Captain wiped off his brow with his forearm, before he motioned out. “Well. I suppose we should go in, correct?” and Kwazii pumped his fist in the air. “YEOW!” before he dashed in, “Kwazii, wa-” Shellington ran in right after him. The Captain sighed, as Dashi followed behind Shellington and Peso was still standing right next to him. The two walked in together. 

Shellington looked around, though it only took a moment for him to see the shattered glass across the floor as it crunched under his boots. He was thankful these boots had been made to handle that stuff, because otherwise that glass would’ve gilded right through his foot. That thought only lasted a second, as his attention was turned to what those rigid pieces of glass on the floor were originally apart of. A huge tank, which had clearly been broken out of. It was mainly empty, until the back part of it, which had been destroyed, letting the salty air breeze on through. It was a refreshing cool compared to the stagnant, previously sterile air of the rest of the building. Shellington knew this is where the creature had been kept, clearly. A notebook laid on the floor. It was a little crumpled from water damage, yet still readable. Shellington pulled on his gloves, as he didn’t really want glass in his hands either, and picked it up, beginning to flip through the notes. Some of the ink had been smeared, but Shellington got the jist. 

01 LARGE 

APRIL 24 

experiment 01, large, has been primarily successful. we were able to transport five different organisms' DNA (blue whale, eel, human, kelp, and seaweed) into it, and it seems to be growing rather fast. technically, it started just as a baby eel hybrid, so the human and eel bits aren’t all that impressive, but being able to combine it with those other three obviously is. it is developing fast. its skin has been slowly turning green, and from our samples, its “hair” is more plant-like. i imagine this is because of the kelp and seaweed

will update this log tomorrow

01 LARGE 

APRIL 25

01 has been growing fast. faster than expected. it is also more violent than we were hoping it to be. we were hoping the blue whale and plant genes would mellow it out, though it seems the eel bits seem to be overpowering personality wise. 

it only wants meat. it shouldnt, given the blue whale parts. fortunately, it is not attacking personnel. hopefully, that won’t change. 

01 LARGE 

APRIL 28 

there wasn’t much to note that was different until now. its mouth is… wrong. it shouldn’t be segmented like how it is now. and it attacked a feeder today. it’s dangerous. hopefully, the smaller 02s will turn out differently. it seems the eel bits are overpowering, though it also could be a mutation. possibly, combining so many organisms caused this. maybe it’s a mix. we will have to tranquilize it for further tests. 

01 LARGE

APRIL 29 

01 is unstable. it continues to grow and it continues to thrash in its tank and hit itself on the back wall. with how big it will end up being, there is a possibility it is able to break out. the glass should be strong enough to hold it, but… 

i don’t even know anymore. 

01 LARGE

MAY 1

i believe it would be best if we euthanized 01. it is very hostile. for some reason, the boss wont let us use euthanasia or even just MOVE it. this is going to end badly, i know it. 

There were no more entries after that. Shellington supposed whoever this mysterious journal writer was, they were right. He decided to take the book with him, tucking it into his satchel. Just then, Peso’s voice ran out. “Shellington! I think this is about the vegimals!” he called, and Shellingotn whipped around, running over to him. “Please, be careful!” the Captain warned, and it was probably because of all the glass and debris. Peso was in front of a shattered incubator, a notebook open in front of him. He flipped it to a beginning page, and handed it to Shellington. His eyes scanned over it. 

02 Small 

April 25th

The 02s seem to be growing magnificently. Their eggs are interesting, they resemble the eggs of the (fish) species they were combined with. I believe doing a smaller DNA combination will lead to them being more stable. 01 is a stupid idea. But this isn’t about 01, so. 

02 Small 

April 28th

They’ve grown larger. The shapes of them are somewhat visible within the eggs, though it is hard to tell. Nothing else of note. 

There wasn’t anything else interesting about these notes, though Shellington took them anyways, even if it was basically just saying “the eggs grew bigger” each entry. Except for the very last one. 

02 Small

May 1st 

I wish I could take them out of here, but I am not permitted to. With how unstable 01 is growing, I have requested the 02s could be taken out at least out of this room, but for some reason, the boss is not allowing it. I want to see them flourish. It is out of my hands, though, I suppose. 

The 02s are growing excellently. I suspect they will take a long time to hatch. Just a guess, though. 

Shellington would’ve loved to chat with both of these writers, but it seemed that they were most likely both dead or just impossible to track down. Maybe one day. Just not today.They searched around the facility a little more, yet didn’t find anything of much value. A few slightly intriguing things here and there, Shellington took some data sheets. He would’ve loved to see what they had on the computers…. If the computers weren’t so water-damaged that they were unusable. Plus, they probably needed a password, which Shellington nor any of the other Octonauts had access to. Maybe Dashi’d be able to figure it out, though Shellington didn’t think on that thought for long before he noticed a sheet scattered on the floor. Looked like a fallen poster. He picked it up. 

“KEEP WORKING!” with a little illustration of someone experimenting with test tubes cartoonishly was drawn and written upon it. Didn’t seem to be anything of value, so Shellington put it on a nearby table. As he put it down, though, something caught his eye. Another notebook! He instantly grabbed it and flipped it open, carefully, he scanned the pages. There wasn’t too much interesting about anything, for the most part. Just looked like a summary of what he had already seen. Despite the fact it wasn’t anything new, he tucked it into his satchel. He knew he’d regret it if he didn’t take the book.

***

After a little more searching, not much more was found. Shellington was satisfied with the information he’d gathered, Dashi had taken enough pictures, and everyone else was just a little tired out (especially Kwazii, who’d been running around and doing acrobatics like usual. He had an affinity for flipping, after all) so, they decided on heading back now. Shellington was thankful for all the information gathered, certain he’d be able to continue his research with this newfound information.  Finally, they’d be able to figure it all out. 

***

Inkling stirred in his seat, looking up for a moment from the book he was currently reading and placing his cup of tea down. The Octopod didn’t often shake when it was still, or at least it wasn’t really supposed to. Tweak, the engineer he’d sought out all that time ago, had made sure the Octopus-themed submarine/house was sturdy and strong. And there was another shake, this time larger. His first thought was a storm, but Dashi hadn’t mentioned any predictions of one. Unless if it was a somehow unpredictable hurricane or something, which he didn’t think was possible. He digressed, though. He was quite old after all. He figured going up to the HQ wasn’t a bad idea. He sipped the rest of his tea and walked over to the chute, jumping in despite his old age. 

He exited by landing in his hover-chair Tweak had designed for him—-she really didn’t have to do that, but Inkling couldn’t imagine life (especially on the Octopod) without it now. It was quite convenient, after all! He directed it over to Dashi, whose expression was furrowed. “Dashi?” he asked, and she startled before realizing it was him. “Oh, Professor, it’s you. Um, yeah, this–” she pointed at the screen, and tapped against it, her relatively long nails clacking against the surface, “This storm is completely unprecedented. It’s… it should not be possible, is the problem. It wasn't predicted at all!” she cried, concern lacing her voice. She usually didn’t sound so panicked–she and the Captain were probably the calmest two on the ship (excluding himself)---so her tone worried the Professor. “I think the Captain will have to—no, I don’t think, he will have to steer the ship. It looks like a big storm.” she said, still a tad panicked. “Should we sound the Octo-alert?” he asked, and Dashi was stooped in thought for a split second before nodding. “Yes.” Inkling took that to heart, slamming his fist down on the big button, and it flashed, the WOOP WOOP echoing throughout the Ship. “Octonauts, to the HQ!” he called, and after only a minute, everyone had made their way to the head of the ship, the Captain being the first one to speak up. “What’s going on?” he asked, calmly, and Dashi swiveled her chair back to look at him, simultaneously pressing something to put her screen onto the TVs of the HQ. “There’s a huge storm rolling in, Captain. A completely unpredicted one as well! You will most likely have to steer once it comes in, and everyone needs to prepare themselves. Please, make sure everything is all secure—this could cause massive damage given how big it is. It doesn’t llook to be a hurricane, but it could turn into one, and given how the system didn’t even tell me there was a storm until just now, it could be entirely a much bigger one than expected,” she rapidly explained, changing the visuals slightly each time to accentuate her point. Inkling noted she seemed a little more zen now that the Captain and everyone else was there, and once she’d told all of them, but she was clearly still distressed. The Captain nodded slowly, taking the lighting round of information in. “I see.” he straightened his back and cleared his throat, “Octonauts,” he said, speaking to everyone again. “Like Dashi said, prepare. Make sure anything easily breakable or anything important is secured. Stay in your stations or areas unless told otherwise.” He turned to Tunip, “Tunip, you and the rest of the vegimals secure the kitchen and garden, then half of you go to the lab or library.” Tunip curtly nodded. Inkling was impressed with how calm he was remaining, and how quickly he’d taken everything in, but it did make sense. 

He hired him for a reason, after all. He’d made sure to find someone confident (But not egotistical), brave, and who could handle situations such as these. He was glad he’d made the right choice all that time ago. He couldn’t imagine having any difference of a crew now that they were here—they were practically his family by this point. Wasn’t like he had much “real” family left though, he supposed. His parents (and obviously grandparents) died, his very few siblings as well. He only really had his darling Nephew, Squirt, left. A thought crossed his mind, wondering how the little man was doing. After a moment, though, he remembered the task at hand, and immediately hopped on down to his library. Fortunately, he’d waterproofed all of his books long ago, partially with the help of Shellington and Dashi. It had been nice, silently listening to their chatter as they all did the monotonous task, though that was now a figment of the past. If he didn’t want all that work to be lost, he needed to put the place he kept all of the things he cared about in lockdown. Obviously, he couldn’t manually tie up all the books, partially because of his age and partially just because it would take far too long. So, long ago, Tweak had made a little emergency button of sorts, that put solid steel sheets over all of the shelves. He pressed it with a simple push with four of his fingers, and he needed to do the rest of the preparations, now. He was sure it wouldn’t be long until a couple of the vegimals came down, likely with a couple of snacks (especially if Grouber came down—-the tallest vegimal always had some sort of food on him, even if it was usually just for himself). Usually the vegimals split into Grouber + Tomminow and Tunip + Barrot + Codish, (not always, though) so he’d most likely get one of those two groups. He guessed probably the prior group, though he obviously couldn’t be sure. 

Moving on, he secured his record player and lamps into some cabinets, as well as his cup for tea that he’d finished earlier. He was fairly certain that was everything, but he made a lap around the library to check—better safe than sorry. He sat in his armchair, realizing that he should probably store that away somewhere. He huffed, though he knew he should be as safe as possible, again especially given his age. He pushed the armchair into a small nook he was certain it’d stay put in, and then sat on the floor. He figured he should stay away from the windows, but they were steeled up anyways, and even if they did break open, he’d be fine. While Peso, Barnacles and Shellington could all hold their breath longer, he and the vegimals were the only ones who actually had/could form gills. He was part squid, and the vegimals were part fish, and part plant, and obviously part human, given those experiments they’d only recently found out about. Idly, Inkling wondered about the creature that that “scientist” had created and that had apparently chased down most of the crew. He hoped it was doing alright—-even if it had attacked them, it wasn’t really its fault. Shellington had been talking about it and its creator, something from those documents they found, 

“It’s like a failed… version of the vegimals, I suppose. I’m not entirely sure what went wrong, given the vagueness, but it clearly mutated, given its size. That thing was huge! Bigger than the GUP Q, that’s for sure. I imagine the vegimals were….Well, absolutely experimented on as eggs of smaller fish. That creature I couldn’t tell what it was hybridized with, possibly a multitude of plants and fish, and obviously human…Aye, whatever it’s made up of, it was too much. Maybe that scientist did it on too big of a creature or something, or possibly on an adult instead of an egg like the vegimals and it mutated horrendously. Unfortunately, my tests didn’t give us much, and given the damage at that scientist’s lab, I couldn’t find too much. But… I think that’s the most of it, aye? Um. Yeah.” 

The conversation had gone on after that point, but that was the most important bit, especially regarding that creature. He figured it probably went back to where they’d found it, surely. It likely didn’t have anything else to do, really, besides eat. After a little bit, two vegimals exited through the chute—like he’d guessed, it was Tomminow and Grouber. Grouber’s little overalls were filled with fish biscuits, and he had one half-eaten one in his hand, too. He was grinning, still happy despite the predicament, and Tomminow looked a little scared, but they always were at least a little. “Tomminow, Grouber,” Inkling softly greeted, welcoming them with a warm smile. “Chiba chiba!” Grouber trilled in his (still shockingly) deep voice. Inkling wasn’t fluent in the vegimal’s language, especially not like how Shellington was, though he could understand a little just from being around them so often. He figured Grouber was saying something like “Hi Professor!” back. Tomminow weakly nodded, practically confirming Grouber’s words. 

“I believe we should go into that corner over there,” he said, pointing. “It’s the farthest from the windows. I’ve taken out a book to read to the two of you” he said, holding it up. It was a chapter book, but it had a few pictures scattered throughout it. Tomminow grinned at that, and the two of them raced to the corner, Grouber stopping periodically to take a bite out of a biscuit. Inkling was slow behind them, but eventually settled into the corner with Tomminow on his right and Grouber on his left. He just hoped this storm would blow over rather quickly, or at least wouldn’t cause too much damage to the Octopod. Only a little after he thought that, he heard the whipping of the waves from the inside, but for now, the orange ship seemed to be rooted in place. Hopefully, it’d stay that way. He read page after page, the two vegimals enjoying it. Grouber fell asleep, biscuit mid-way into his mouth after a little, though Tomminow seemed to still be paying attention. 

Inkling paused his reading for a moment—that sounded like a loud clang. To the point where it concerned him. He adjusted his monocle, slipped a bookmark into place, and put the book down on the carpeted floor. Tomminow trilled curiously up at him. He pat their head, red hair and stem now a little squished down. “Stay here, Tomminow,” he lightly commanded. He could never be as firm as Barnacles, but they listened nonetheless, staying in place. Just as he stood, the Octopod shook, and he grasped at a bookshelf to stabilize himself, heaving against it. “Oh my,” he muttered under his breath, straightening out his arms and adjusting his bowtie and monocle. Just as he did so, it jolted again, now to the other side, and he slid backwards into another shelf. He groaned, gritting his teeth. He supposed in his pain he couldn’t help the whole part-octopus thing, and he noticed his skin had turned a bit pinker, and his hand was more akin to a tentacle now. 

He exhaled, calming himself. He should try to get to the screen to contact the Captain or Dashi. He just prayed he wouldn’t fall down the damn stairs and break his back, though he supposed he’d probably be fine given the whole octopus thing. Slowly walking down the stairs, he walked to the screen, and just managed to press his tentacle-hand to the little blue octopus-ensigma’d button. He was met with a view of the HQ—Dashi must’ve connected him to one of the TVS, he reckoned. “Professor?” she asked, before another jolt caused the both of them to begin to slide to the left, but Inkling used his tentacles to his advantage and suctioned onto the wall next to the screen. Dashi’s chair just went sliding, “Wooooooah-” she cried, before repositioning herself. “Dashi, there has been a lot of jolts like that. I am… mildly concerned.” Inkling stated, and Dashi nodded. “I- I know… It’s getting rougher. I think it’ll be best if everyone is in the HQ, so,” she tapped something on her board, “All Octonauts to the HQ once everything is secured!” she spoke clearly, voice reverberating around the ship. Inkling un-suctioned himself, yelling out to the vegimals. “Tomminow, Grouber—we’re going to the HQ!” he yelled, and Grouber startled as he woke up, before both nodded and slid down the steps, and Inkling hopped in the chute, them trailing behind. 

As he got there, he realized Barnacles was already lifted into the steering wheel area. Most of the others were there, except for Tweak. He was confused by this, so he asked, “Where’s Tweak?” and Dashi glanced back at him. “Oh, hello, Professor. She’s down in the bubble engine—with how big this storm is, we’ll probably need more power.” she explained, and he nodded curtly. Made sense. “And….” he looked back up at her. “I don’t think the storm is our only worry,” she said, and Inkling raised an eyebrow. Dashi responded without words, pressing a button and in a moment the maps were displayed on the TVs. Some huge creature. Inkling held back a gasp. “Is..” Dashi nodded. “We believe it’s the creature. It matches up in size personally, and it’s coming straight for us. Unfortunately, staying in place isn’t the best idea.” she said, and just as she did, they heard the Captain’s voice. “Dashi, start taking off,” he ordered. “On it!” she immediately slammed the button, and the Octopod shook, causing most of them to slide across the floor a little. Inkling instinctively latched onto his chair with his tentacles. Kwazii yelped, “Yeow!” and a few of the others said their “catchphrases” (“F-Flappity Flippers!” “Jumping Jellyfish!”) and while he couldn’t hear her, he was certain Tweak was muttering “Oh me oh my” under her breath. The Octopod strained against the currents, but whipped seamlessly through the water despite that. Inkling just hoped that they’d be able to get out of this storm and away from what was presumably the creature. 

Just as the thought crossed his mind, another sudden turn, and his chair slid over to the side. He readjusted his monocle once more. For a moment, the Octopod strained against the currents, until the Captain barked another order, “Tweak, turn up the strength on the bubble engines!” Inkling could hear him straining against the tough currents, but he was strong. He was able to hold them back for the time being. Tweak came in through the radio, “I need some help down here!” she cried, a little staticky on account of the storm. Shellington spoke up, “Tunip?” and the leader vegimal trilled something like “I will!” or “On it!” or something along those lines, and did a little salute before he jumped down the chute. Dashi responded for Shellington, “Tunip’s coming down to assist, Tweak,” and Tweak audibly sighed of relief. After a moment, seemingly Tweak and Tunip were able to help, the Octopod pushed further, albeit slower than it usually would be. 

Inkling glanced back up at the map—the creature was getting closer. And fast. He swallowed air, but before he could speak up, the medic did. Inkling noted that his ears were more feathery than usual, though he supposed that made sense. Most people turned more animalistic with big emotions, and stress was certainly one here. “Dashi, it l-looks like it’s a-approaching f-fast!” he bawled, and Dashi pursed her lips. “...you’re right. Captain,” she spoke, pressing a button as she did. “It’s– it’s getting much closer.” Barnacles huffed through the mic. “Tweak, is it possible to get more power?” he asked, and Dashi relayed the question to her rapidly. “Not much more, I’m ‘fraid, Cap.” she admitted, and the Captain growled, but not angrily at Tweak or anyone else. Just at the circumstances. “Try to make it as powerful as you can,” he ordered, and Tweak responded with a little “On it, Cap” the Octopod seemed to go a little faster, albeit not by much, and it wouldn’t be noticeable if he wasn’t looking out for it. 

The ship haggardly pushed on, and Inkling looked out the back window. For a moment, he thought he saw something. Approaching closer. It didn’t take long for him to tell it was green. He whipped around, though before he could say anything, Kwazii did first. “Mateys, I think it’s approaching!” Dashi glanced back up at the map, then out the window. “Everyone, prepare to get hit!” and as if it was magic, the creature approached faster and fast, eyes glowing bright and serrated mouth opened wide, plant-like “hair” whirling around it furiously. Inkling heard Peso gulp. Shellington, along with most of the vegimals, crouched under a desk. Kwazii was standing proud. Dashi covered her head with her hands. He himself covered his head with his tentacle-hands and pressed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact. He opened one eye a little, and he saw the green tail of the creature slap against the glass, sending them wildly off course.  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” 

“F-flappi- AAA-” 

“Oh no-”

“Jumping j-elly–AAAAAAAAAAAH”

“YEOWWWWWWWWW”

Lots of screaming and yelling and all of that was heard, as they spun through the water uncontrollably. Inkling could tell Barnacles was fighting against it given the strain, but even he with all his strength was unable to stop this. They were going to crash—whether that be into land or to the bottom of the ocean, Inkling was unsure. He was a little worried if it was the latter for the majority of the crew, even the ones that could breath longer periods of time underwater. He knew he and the vegimals would be fine, but what about the rest?  His thoughts were interrupted after he realized they were heading towards some sort of landmass, but the creature apparently wasn’t done. It had followed them, and was gearing up its tail, and backed up, and striked again, slightly upwards this time, and for the first time, the Octopod flew. 

***

Professor Inkling woke up with a horrendous headache. Slowly blinking his eyes open, his sight adjusted, unblurring, and he re-positioned his monocle. It was sand, for a long while. While he didn’t recognize it at first, he remembered the area they were in before the storm. The Atlantic Ocean, around Namibia. That meant that this area, this sandy, a little foggy, area was most likely one infamous coast. 

They were stranded at Skeleton coast. 

[AUTHORS NOTE]

Hello, authors note time, Candi/Chris/Pantpisser9000 here. First and foremost—-thank ALL of you. Whether you have read every chapter, just one, came from ao3 or from here on tumblr—-I seriously appreciate the support this has garnered. It is by FAR my longest work, ever, ending at about 102k words. While looking back, there are many things I would change on how I executed this fic and the plot points, I am still immensely proud of myself for it. 

So, again, thank you all. Not just the people who’ve read this, but also this entire community—-which has been so wonderful and supportive and just great. I love this show dearly. 

Now, I want to say something more serious and unrelated to the fic. There are two important things I encourage everyone to look into and support/help with. 

The travesties happening in Palestine. If you aren’t educated I recommend doing some of your own research & helping. 

KOSA, aka the kids online safety act. If this passes, EVERYONE in America will be affected (though especially minors). 

I’ve retweeted/reblogged things relating to both causes both on here & on my Twitter (kiingcandi_) if you need a start  

For Palestine, I recommend checking out these threads (though again I implore you to do your own research) & spread info + strike/go to protests IF YOU ARE ABLE TO. 

https://x.com/bioloveds/status/1776687704669143526?s=46

https://x.com/bioloveds/status/1779208030166683958?s=46

https://x.com/bioloveds/status/1775615288618492298?s=46

https://x.com/txtarchivee/status/1769171443395526894?s=46 (survey from senate regarding this and some other issues)

For KOSA, if you live in the US, PLEASE call your senators. I know it’s nerve wracking but GENUINELY please do. If you don’t live in the US, there are petitions out there.

https://x.com/stxrduztedd/status/1768416180467798282?s=46

(This one is VERY VERY helpful!!! Makes it super super easy to call your senators! https://t.co/VRNTWKKsZF) 

Again, I implore you to find your own ways to help with both of these causes and do some research. 

Now that I’ve said all of that, I only have have final thing in order. 

Thank you for everything. 

Candi

[walkawaytall]

sometimes when you're supposed to be finishing the multichapter you've been working on for a year and a half and you are just so close you can practically taste it, you end up writing the prologue for an Organa Twins AU that's probably not going anywhere?

(But also might be something because I've already thought of how I want Luke, Han, and Chewie rescuing Leia from the Death Star to go down in this AU and it's real fun.)

“Pregnant, she must still appear. Hidden, safe, the children must be kept.”

“We must take them somewhere the Sith will not sense their presence.”

“My wife and I will take the babies. We've always talked of adopting. They will be loved with us.”

*****

When it came to disappearing entirely, Tatooine was as good a place as any. Ben Kenobi harbored no particular fondness for the planet, but it offered the sort of anonymity that was difficult to come by closer to the Core, and being in Hutt Space guaranteed some separation from Imperial officials.

Tatooine was also where it had all gone wrong and, as such, was the only place Ben could hope to find answers regarding how to prevent such a tragedy from occurring again.

He was running out of time, though he had felt that way for nearly two decades. Two decades spent under the torturous heat of twin suns, searching for a why or a how. Two decades befriending his nearest neighbors in hopes that he would discover something that made what he knew make sense, that he might hear a story or a description preceded by Shmi said he always… that would cause everything to fit together.

Two decades paying penance for every move he had made that culminated in Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side.

It shouldn’t have taken two decades. He was supposed to have moved on, was supposed to have started training the children on some other backwater planet where they were unlikely to be discovered. In fact, Bail Organa had contacted him nearly ten years prior to inform him that, after months of careful observation, he and his wife, Breha, had determined that their daughter, Leia, was exceptionally good at keeping secrets — “not just good for a ten-year-old; good by any metric.” Leia’s twin, Luke, was…improving in that area, and should be adequately trained by the time the school term ended. They were preparing the children for a change in scenery for their instruction. What month did he think was best to begin?

That month certainly hadn’t been a good one, nor was the next. Ben still hadn’t determined what exact course of events had caused Anakin’s fall. He didn’t know if there was something genetically malevolent about the Skywalker line or if Anakin’s surroundings had played a significant part in his embracing of the Dark Side. If he didn’t know what caused it, how could he possibly prevent it from happening to another Padawan? How could he prevent Luke and Leia from turning?

Really, the entire year had ended up being bad timing, as had the next and the next. When Bail contacted him mere days after the twins’ fifteenth birthday, Ben had been fairly certain he would be ready the next time his old friend commed.

But he didn’t comm.

Ben didn’t pay much mind to the silence. He assumed Bail or Breha would get in touch again if they truly thought the children ready, and by then, Ben would be ready, too.

The next time he saw Bail’s face wasn’t through direct contact, but via a galactic news report being shown in a local cantina. The viceroy was announcing the date of his retirement from the Galactic Senate. He confirmed that, after an apparent landslide victory in an election on Alderaan, the pale young woman with big, brown eyes standing next to him would take his place.

Ben could hardly look at her for more than a few seconds before focusing his attention back on Bail. She looked like her mother.

He wondered how Bail could manage having the living, breathing reminder of the loss of Padme stare across the breakfast table at him every day. He could barely stand the mere memory of her ultimate fate. He still had dreams about her sixteen years after she’d breathed her final breaths, dreams in which she lived, dreams in which she died in a variety of ways, dreams in which she joined Anakin as he had wanted her to.

Leia spoke calmly and clearly, with fire simmering just under the surface of every word that reminded him simultaneously of all of her parents, both biological and adopted. Breha and Bail had clearly trained her to communicate well, though she possessed her own sort of easy charm and wry wit that Ben had no doubt had endeared her to the public.

He wondered about the boy, wondered what Luke was up to while his sister shackled herself to the impossible ideal of equitable politics. Bail had mentioned something about him learning to fly larger ships the last time they had spoken, and Ben had briefly wondered if the children were involved in the insurgent activity that he knew Bail continued to engage in.

Surely not. Bail and Breha were devoted to their causes, but they had always been protective of their children. They wouldn’t allow such young people to involve themselves in something as dangerous as the rebellion.

In the more than three years that had passed since Bail’s retirement announcement, Ben had hardly had to wonder what the twins were doing at any given moment. Leia was the darling of the Senate as far as the general populace was concerned, and it was no wonder: she spoke up for the poor and needy, raised the issue of abolishing slavery of all sentient species galaxy-wide as often as she was allowed, and routinely seemed to represent the interests not just of Alderaanians, but of any being who had struggled under the crushing hand of the Empire. They would never say so publicly, but Ben couldn’t imagine a galaxy in which at least two-thirds of her fellow senators didn’t despise her.

Luke’s presence was less obvious, but Ben gathered that the boy was acting as extra security when his sister traveled on her many diplomatic missions. Her transport was sometimes shown taking off or landing on one planet or another, and it was always flanked by a minimum of two X-wing starfighters. Luke appeared to be flying one of them every time Ben saw a report of Leia traveling.

They seemed to be doing well despite their lack of training. As a senator, Leia had no doubt met both Palpatine and Vader, and yet it seemed as if they were none the wiser. She was shielding her Force-sensitivity somehow, and since Luke appeared to be with her most of the time, Ben had to assume he was as well. They were better off without being trained by him, without ever knowing of their familial baggage.

He assumed he wouldn’t hear from the Organas again.

As spring slipped into summer on Tatooine, many locals shifted their habits to align with the evening hours. The days were barely tolerable during less-extreme seasons, but they were unbearable during the summer. Ben took to sleeping during daylight hours, the same way his neighbors did.

He was surprised to be woken by frantic knocking on his door a mere hour before midday. Ben squinted at his chrono a moment longer than usual to make sure he was reading the time correctly. He tried to ignore the knocking, but it only increased in volume and speed.

Something must be wrong, he thought as he hauled his aging body out of bed. Why anyone would come to him for help was beyond him, but he could at least see what they needed.

He swung the door to his small dwelling open and was immediately blinded by the midday suns. His vision took seconds to adjust, and he squinted at the person standing outside his home.

Blue eyes set beneath a mop of sandy hair met his. The young man was sunburned and covered in sand. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Uncle Ben?”

[nightmyst14-blog]

Regaining treasures pt 1

Welp, I'm keeping my promise. Time for angst and hurt/comfort in the Golden Cheese Kingdom.

This is in my Rebloomed Lilies Au, but I am not sure where yet. But I hope you enjoy!

Setting: Golden Cheese Kingdom ruins. The ancients receive a letter from Golden Cheese Cookie, asking for their help with something important, needing a few ingredients. She didn't explain why, but it was urgent.

Pure Vanilla: Well, here we are.. *looking around*

White Lily: *looks around at the broken buildings and fallen statues* Oh witches… Her oasis… Her temples…

Dark Cacao: From what the children told us. It is.. *frowns* Much more troublesome seeing it in person…

??: There you are!! 

*The three turned to look, seeing Golden Cheese flying over to them, the wielder of the light of Abundance was dressed in a more casual outfit, followed by a green haired Cookie with glasses.

Golden Cheese: You made it! *hugs Dark Cacao* Well, most of you.

Pure Vanilla: *smiles sadly* Sadly, dear Holly couldn't make it, and is caught up with things in her own kingdom.

Dark Cacao: *hugs her back* She has asked us to bring gifts for you. Are you alright, Birdie? You look exhausted.

Golden Cheese: *pauses, smiles* ...Let’s get inside first. Get out of this annoying heat, yes?

*Golden Cheese leads them inside the temple, where cheesebirds and a few cookies were seen, the cookies seeming to be tending to others who was injured.*

Pure Vanilla: *soon looks at the green haired cookie* Um, Goldie? Who is this?

Golden Cheese: Oh this is Olive cookie. She’s a friend of that Adventurer Cookie you all hired to find me.

Olive: *smiles, giddy* That’s me! I-I must say, It is an honor to be in the presence of even 4 of the ancients!! Your majesty, I am a FAN of each of your civilizations' work!!

Dark Cacao: Nice you meet you madam.

Golden Cheese: She has been extremely helpful with her vast interest in my kingdom. With her help, I've managed to awaken some of my subjects. Its a slow process but its working.

??: *small girl wrapped in bandages approached the group, reaching up to the queen herself.* Nana?

White Lily: *confused* A tiny mummy?

Golden Cheese: *smiles, picking the girl up* Hello sweetie. How are you?

Pure Vanilla: Such a cute little crumb! Who is this?

Golden Cheese: This is Fettuccine, my grandchild.. Fett, these are my friends. Dark Cacao, Pure Vanilla, and White Lily.

Fettuccine: *giggles* Hi hi!

Dark Cacao: Grandchild?

Golden Cheese: *nods* Found her in archives. She kept allowing me around, so I adopted her.

Pure Vanilla: *chuckles* Never expected you to be so fond of children, dear Cheese!

Golden Cheese: hehe, yeah. *frowns a bit, shakes her head* How about we get something to eat?You three must be tired from your journey.

*By midday, Golden Cheese offered her friends a nice lunch in the river spot in the middle of the temple. Her servants continue to help, despite her adamant waving off for them to go rest. She was a queen, but not helpless. She relished in the gifts her friends brought her, her wing flapping in happiness *

Pure Vanilla: *reading over Olive’s notes* Ms. Olive, this is amazing research! The details are immaculate!

Olive: *chuckles* Aww gee, thank you your majesty! Golden Cheese Kingdom is a mysterious and fascinating place. I’m just glad my research is helping restore this place.

Golden Cheese: *offering Fettuccine a cheese bun,smiles* I’ve been thinking of making her my scribe once my palace is complete! *sips on a glass of berry juice*

Dark Cacao: *twiddling with his fork* But Golden Cheese, I must ask.. Why did you call us here? 

*Pure Vanilla, White Lily, and Olive looked at the golden queen, seeing her face go from happy to pained to sad.*

Fettuccine: *touches Golden Cheese’s arm* ..Faba?

*Golden Cheese frowned a bit,soon picking up Fettuccine. She nodded to the little mummy, looking at the others*

Golden Cheese: *sighs* I guess I cant waste anymore time huh? Follow me. 

*soon leading them into a hidden room.*

*Three sarcophagi laid there, each with a different animal head on them. A bull, a falcon, and a jackal. Etched on the coffins were each different times of day, morning dawn, midday, and midnight. The queen approached one, a shaky hand touched the middle one, looking sad.*

White Lily: *worried* Golden Cheese…?

Golden Cheese: Heh. This is my hidden treasure room. I.. I keep the most sacred of treasures… Ones birthed from my feathers…

Fettuccine: *waddles to the jackal sarcophagus, touches it* Faba..

Pure Vanilla: Birthed from your feathers..? *frowns* You mean…

Dark Cacao: Children. She means children, Vanilla.

White Lily: *shocked, covers her mouth*

Golden Cheese: *nods* I came back to my kingdom, I found them dead. I managed to collect their souls and their bodies back together, crumb by crumb. But.. I can't wake them up…

Pure Vanilla: So that’s why you asked for our help.

Golden Cheese: *nods, hears something* Oh, um… excuse me. *leaves the room*

White Lily: *falls to her knees* I… She.. *sniffs* I did this…

[recreationalfanfics]

Do you have any thoughts on older/jack the ripper dlc jacob? Personally i think older jacob is hotter than young Jacob- both are hot, but older jacob does something to me fr 😮‍💨 I honestly think Jacob would send his darling off to Evie during the whole thing or away with their children (if they had any) but still. I just like the thought of Jacob being a little more chill with his darling but also still being completely delusional over how the start of their relationship was love at first sight and totally perfect while their darling is just like 🤨 Jacob tells his kids that you and him just instantly connected whereas you’re biting your tongue from pointing out that you almost threw at a beer mug at his head 😂 I’m so curious on your thoughts- i just love this man lol

ANON, YOUR MIND IS SO POWERFUL. I LOVE JACOB BUT WHY DIDN'T YANDERE! OLDER JACOB COME TO MIND!? THANK YOU AND YES, I DO HAVE SOME THOUGHTS.

- I can imagine that first and foremost, he would definetly send you and any children you two have (should you want any) over to Evie or somewhere far away where Jack can't hurt you when he gets threatened by him.

- Also, since Jacob adopted Jack, imagine Jack being sort of like a platonic yandere but the kind of yandere who thought it would be more merciful to "free you" from Jacob by killing you, so Jacob being conflicted but also feeling guilty for not recognizing Jack and the darkness in him sooner (or even making it worse by filling his head with his ideologies).

- But yeah, no, at that point you have Stockholm Syndrome so you're honestly relieved when you return home and quickly become concerned when you see Jacob and when Evie leaves to go back to India, you caring and tending to Jacob and helping him adjust.

- And even without his other eye, the intensity of his obsessive passion for you is not dimmed by any means. It burns as bright as they cursed day he laid eyes on you for the first time. He's so happy to have you back in his arms safe and sound.

- Also, yes, older Jacob becomes a bit "fuzzy on the details" of how you two meet. He often jokes about how you "played hard to get" and by that, he meant "you literally tried to flee the country but his rooks cut you off and then brought you to him where he trapped you and kept you locked away from the rest of the world" and how you've given up on correcting him because he's so convinced that's what happened.

Older! Jacob: "I was determined to make sure they weren't the one who got away!"

Older! You: "Yes. Yes he was. Very determined. Scarily determined, some might say."

- Both couples old and young envy the both of you and women of all ages tell you how lucky you are to have married a man who was so handsome and so obsessed with you. If you were younger, you would've looked at them in disgust but instead, you nod your head and say: "Yes, there is no one quite like my Jacob" and when Jacob hears, he feels his heart skip a beat and he's suddenly back to being the love sick puppy he was when he first "courted" you.

- But yes he would be rather chiller the older he becomes and this is mostly because you've finally accepted that you're never getting away from him. If you make any bitter or passive aggressive comment, instead of pouting or being upset, he will chuckle or roll his eyes before kissing you because for all that sass; you both know that he won in the end.

- He also trusts you enough to go on morning strolls with him, his arm linked around yours as you both walk down the city just for the view or go to the market together and he isn't worried to let you out of his sight for a bit (Younger Jacob would've been stressing and wouldn't calm down until you were back in his line of sight) and he enjoys how the two of you have conversations instead of screaming matches, conversations where he is reminded of why he loves you so much and how he simply will never let you go.

- The mornings are nice the older you two get, your chairs next to each other as you read the paper and you feel Jacob's eyes on you, admiring you, studying you, enjoying the fact that you were finally his and his alone. Then he'd grab your hand and tenderly rub his thumb on top of your knuckles before he sits up to kiss your cheek. When you were younger, he would've had to grab you by chin to keep you from moving away but instead you stay still and turn to give him a peck on the cheek which makes him hum in delight.

[raccoonfallsharder]

(Ignore this if you'd like^^)

What if Rocket and his S/O were the only ones (aside from Nebula) who didn't get snapped, how would they deal with it?

i could never ignore you. i would never ignore you. i don’t always get to respond to everything, but trust i read each ask, and think about them, and am grateful for each one ♡ also oh god this got long and it was delayed and might possibly not make much sense because i wrote most of it in the hospital on my phone sorrrrry ♡♡♡♡

to answer your question ~ it depends on the SO, i think, and how their relationship has unfolded with rocket and the other guardians.

if they’re new to the guardians-team, i suspect they’d be trying to focus on caring for rocket. hopefully, they’d balance his tendency to act recklessly by holding space for him, helping him process the loss.

if they’re creative like him, that might mean working alongside of him in relative silence, side-by side. painting or sewing or inventing, working on little machines with him, helping him make repairs to the bowie. they might make note of little things, hoping to open the conversation.

it’s so quiet on the bowie these days, they might say softly on the flight deck. i miss the noise.

the unexpectedness of the question might be enough to crack him, silvery tears tinseling the fur below his eyes while nebula shifts uncomfortably a few feet away.

or maybe they sit next to him on the flightdeck, both pairs of feet propped on the console, stars spinning lazily by. rocket would have the zune playing, staring down at it without really seeing it, thumb stroking mindlessly over the edge of it. maybe, in this universe, his partner watches quietly, then shifts in their own seat to gently rest their hand on his knee.

wordless, quiet togetherness.

maybe this person is a touchy person. every night, trying to melt the interim captain's grief with hands pressed into his narrow shoulders, or stroking the crown of his head, or with lips pressed carefully to his brow. not to take his sadness away, but to make it a little easier to carry.

or maybe — unfortunately for rocket — they’re a talker.

tell me the story again of how you met pete, they’d say. tell me about the time you hid the whole crate of zargnuts from drax and convinced him gamora ate them all. tell me again about the one single time you let mantis hug you.

they’re not gone — not really, rocket's partner reminds him. not as long as we keep their stories.

that last one’s probably the hardest for him to deal with. rocket holds onto his loss like a tiny knot of dark matter, or a perfectly-collapsed, glowing neutron star: caged behind his ribs, making every bone buckle inward. talking about it feels as dangerous as a superradiant instability: it’s just asking to become a black hole bomb.

but eventually, talk he does, letting the words wind their way up out of him in the shadows when he's woken up between dreams, or shuffled against the soft clink of blubber-ale bottles while the two of them sit with nebula, getting quietly drunk too late into the sleep-shift.

but what if this significant other of rocket's has roots just as deep in their little makeshift family as he does? deeper, even? maybe they knew one of the others first: another half-sibling of pete's, stumbled across in a distant star-system; another child kept in the relative safety of the eclector. maybe an adopted child of thanos, brought up in competition with gamora and nebula; maybe they're a survivor from kylos who had been best friends with kamaria when they were children.

in this case, i suspect they probably still try to prioritize their care for rocket, and likely end up fraying: he gets too drunk one night and they run out of patience, or he finds them crying in some half-forgotten corner of the cargo-hold one night. he realizes too late that they're not sleeping, or not eating. maybe it's nebula who points it out:

you're going to lose them if you don't open your eyes, Fox.

rocket will probably hate himself for not noticing sooner, but he will repay their care for him thousandfold. gruff, of course. just don't want you to frickin' pass out behind the flight controls. but we all know the truth: he's so fucking soft for them, and they're all he has left.

there are some things i imagine would be the same no matter what, though. to begin with, i think this person would make sure that nebula and rocket weren't fastened to terra. they'd make sure that the three of them got out into the stars (the mcu canon is conflicting but some of it points to our guardians sticking around on earth and the avengers using the bowie to get from place-to-place planetside; i like to think rocket's SO would laugh at the mere suggestion of this, wiping tears of mirth from their eyes with an oh, you were serious?). instead, the three of them touch base with kraglin on the eclector; they start coordinating efforts and aid to planets in their sector.

at some point — sooner or later, depending on the dynamic — im sure they go through a problem-solving phase. the denial part of the grieving process, maybe — or perhaps bargaining. what can we do to get them back? the little trio of guardians start taking jobs for or near people they can interview for information and ideas and answers. i hope, for everyone’s sake, that this partner of rocket’s is more diplomatic than the other two crewmates, otherwise these interviews interrogations will get a bit messy — especially at first, when nebula is still new.

she is, of course, extemely skilled at interrogation, and she's eager to show her first-ever friends what she can bring to the table.

eventually, i suspect this pursuit for answers falls away. what’s left is an unspoken desire shared by all three of them to live up to what they each think being a frickin’ guardian of the galaxy means. and may all the gods in the universe help them if rocket ever feels like either of his two crewmates are being reckless. the first time one of them almost gets hit by a laser or caught in an explosion, he damn near loses his mind. yelling at them, fussing over them, yelling again. using far more bandages than are strictly necessary — trying to waste medpacks on scrapes and bruises. fussing and yelling again — calling them idiots and morons with silver tracking through the fur under his eyes. he's a cross between an anxious grandmother and a drill sergeant, with more insults to hurl than a landlocked ravager.

of course, when it happens to be his partner, he always makes sure to make it up to them afterward.

headcanons & imagines masterlist

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2022: 8-Submission

Damian Wayne pouted in the car on the way to his punishment. He had yet to figure out what it was, but it had been worth it. As Robin, he had broken formation, during patrol, and returned to the meet up point with a kitten. Batman had denied his request to bring it home. He even had Oracle locate several animal shelters.

"I will be taking it to a veterinary, first. They can also checked to see if it belongs to someone. If no one has claimed it within a week, I will return with it." Robin demanded.

"No." Batman growled.

Robin frowned, "Al.....Cat A is getting older. He will have a playmate and I will have a companion after he passes."

Nightwing nodded. Red Hood sighed and Red Robin yawned. Batman sighed.

'It was true that Damian had kept Alfred the cat since his arrival to Gotham. It was becoming more apparent that Damian was worried about his cat. He had been taking it to the vet more often. The cat was eating less and had even allowed them to pick him up when he was in the way. Alfred the cat had become more docile.'

"Very well." the Dark Knight answered, "Return to the cave and get prepared. Agent A, Robin will be returning with a small companion, in need."

"Yes, sir." Agent A replied.

The Wayne boys had been upset that Damian had gotten special treatment, in their eyes. They had decided they would punish him for extending patrol hours for them.

"Where are we?" Damian demanded.

"Surprise, Little D!" Dick exclaimed.

Jason smirked, "We picked the worst thing we possibly could."

"It took all week, but we finally came up with the perfect plan." Tim smiled, then yawned.

"What is it?" the Wayne heir growled.

"Can I tell him?" Jason volunteered.

"Sure." Tim answered.

"We all hate those stupid parties and do anythign possible to not be grabbed at." Todd smiled, "So, you are going to be a male model for this event."

Damian was stunned. His father's adopted children had decided to punish him with making him a dress up doll. What was worse, he was going to be touched and grabbed; he couldn't lash out.

'Assholes.'

"This was a last minute thing, too." Grayson declared, "They needed a replacement."

Damian sat silently as the horde of girls, across the room, pointed at him and his siblings. He wished he could be anywhere else, right now. At least there were some other males in the room, but their glares weren't any better then the giggles.

'Why couldn't they have just shipped me in a crate back to Mother?'

"Damian Wayne." a voice called.

Damian and his brothers stood up and followed the voice. A girl looked at them confused, but opened the door wider. The girl closed the door and stared at them.

"Damian, go ahead and stand on the platform." She demanded, "I'll need you to strip to your boxers."

"I will not!" the Wayne heir growled, taking a step forward.

"How else am I suppose to take your measurements to make sure the clothes fit you?" she shouted.

Damian remained where he was.

"You're the designer?" Drake shouted.

She smiled, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, at your service. I've been designing since I was ten and my clothes have rocked runways since I was thirteen."

Damian quickly looked over the designer's appearnace. She was his age, maybe younger. Her hair was so black it appeared blue and her eyes were the bluest he had seen. That alone was saying a lot since his family was notorious for their blue eyes. Marinette looked tired, almost as much as Drake.

"So it's your fault I'm here?" he questioned.

She glared at him.

'Interesting.'

"I didn't personally ask for you, Your Highness." She declared, "A friend of mine was suppose to be my model, but he broke his leg. I don't know who you are and I don't fucking care! Right now, I have to figure out if I have clothes to alter or possibly remake, altogether. Get down to your boxers so we can both get this over with. The faster you do this, the faster you can get out of my way."

The Wayne boys were shocked. Everyone usually treated them like they were special. This designer didn't know who they were and didn't even care.

Damian quickly listened to her.

'Looks like we both don't want to do this.'

Marinette quickly got to work. She had made a chart on the paper under Adrien's. She made sure to follow the same guidelines to easily figure out if there were changes to be made. She quickly measured his arms and chest. Adrien may have been use to all of this, but she could feel the subtle flinches under her hands.

"I'm only going to explain this once. I'm going to measure your lower half. That includes the inseam; the inseam will be you inner leg. You cannot move. If I make a mistake, the pants can be too tight and ride up. That would be uncomfortable for both of us." she quickly explained.

Marinette got up and began to look over her notes.

"Get dressed." she stated, "You're dismissed."

She flipped the paper up and down to compare Adrien and Damian's measurements.

"Will he be okay?" Dick questioned.

"I have to make new clothes for him." she sighed, "I can't use what I already have."

"Will your show be okay?" Jason asked.

'Shit! We made this a punishment for her, too.'

"Yeah. I'll have my assistant stock up on coffee. " Mari declared, waving off their concerns, "Mostly everyone is coming in for a fitting, today, so there shouldn't be any drastic alterations to the rest of them. If I focus on his, I can finish in two days. Come back by then, so I can make sure about any adjustments."

"Wait!" Tim shouted, "I thought he had to wear like ten outfits."

"Yes and I said it should be done in two days." Marinette replied, "Thank you for stopping by. Next time, leave the attitude outside of my dressing room."

"Question." Damian spoke.

Marinette put on her best customer service smile, from the bakery, she could and asked, "Yes, Sir. How many I help you, today?"

Jason snorted and covered his face. Dick smiled at her sudden change in demeanor. Tim facepalmed. He knew it wouldn't end well, where Damian was concerned.

"Do you partake in the female sex?" he questioned.

Marinette blinked it confusion before laughing.

"No, I don't like girls." she answered.

"Married?" he continued.

"Nope." she smiled.

"Committed relationship?" Damian persisted.

"Nope." Mari spoke.

"A beneficial relationship?" he asked.

"No." Marinette replied, "Why all these questions?"

"All those harpies in the other room wouldn't shut up." Damain answered, "You barely looked at me."

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't stroke your ego." Mari rolled her eyes.

"Maybe that isn't what he wanted stroked." Todd smirked.

Damian quickly turned and glared at his sibling, briefly catching the designer's blush.

'So she was staring. Perhaps she was only keeping up the appearance of professionalism.'

"Look, I've seen people, like you, who think because they look good, it makes them better than anyone else." Marinette answered, "Usually, they're a bunch of assholes, as you have proven. I prefer a man with taste."

'I look appeasing to her, but my behavior dissuaded her.'

"You prefer the men who open doors and pull out chairs; a perfect gentleman." Damian quipped.

"Fuck that!" Marinette shouted.

The Wayne boys couldn't believe their ears. They were so use to people demanding them to act perfect; even Bruce.

"At the end of the day, they think if they do that kind of stuff for woman, a woman should serve them behind closed doors." Marinette replied.

"You tried?" Damian questioned.

'What the hell did that bastard do to her?'

"First college boyfriend. Seemed nice and I was naïve. Later, I heard him tell his friends how I was 'bad in the sack'. I laughed in his face and said he was too much of a dick to even have made it that far. He got laughed at and said I was a bad girlfriend for not serving him." Marinette answered, "His friends asked what he meant, so I told them about his whole 'woman live for men-household outlook'. They told him his idea was outdated and woman aren't like that, anymore. If he wanted that, he'd never find a wife. Last I heard, his husband set him on the right path."

The Waynes began to laugh and chuckle.

"I prefer my men honest. I don't care if they can't cook, if they can't clean, but if they get on my bad side, they usually end up tied up and in a ditch somewhere." she declared.

Someone knocked on the door, before opening it. The Waynes noticed a blonde boy with his foot in a cast and crutches.

"Adrien Agreste!" Marinette shouted, "What the fuck are you doing here? You're suppose to be on bedrest!"

"The show." he whined.

The Waynes were astounded to see the tiny designer throw the injured party over her shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.

"NO!" he shouted, turning red, "Mari!"

"Bad Kitty!" Marinette scolded, "You are going to lay on that pull out couch you assumed I would use as a bed in my office. Natalie is coming to get you."

"Please, no!" he pleaded, "I'll be good! Don't call her! I'll be stuck at the piano again!"

"Bed." Marinette stated.

"Yes, Ma'am." he answered.

"And I don't want to hear one peep about my sewing or my mothering from you!" she continued to chide.

"Yes, Momma Mari." he answered.

Marinette walked out of the room. Adrien just waved as Marinette carried him away.

"Wow; she doesn't take no for an answer." Tim spoke.

"No wonder that other guy didn't do it for her." Dick laughed.

"Oi!" Jason hollered, "Hurry up and get dressed. I wanna get out of here and get some food."

The Wayne brothers walked out the door and stood guard. As Damian got dressed, he wasn't sure what to make of the designer. He thought she was the designer's assistant with how young she was, like all those meek women his father hired. His parents taught him how to read people and he couldn't do that with her. Marinette was fiery and spoke her mind. She had barely even looked at him, too focused on her task and numbers. She had laughed at him! He could only assume she had picked up her former model, judging by the cast, and informed him he was going to sleep.

He didn't expect to see her again on their way out.

"Hey, Miss Designer, do you know where we can find some really good sweets?" Jason asked, "Like a café or something?"

"Coffee, please!" Tim whined.

She smiled, "My parents own the best bakery in Paris. You can find it on Rue Street. You can't miss it. It's a white and black store front with gold letters."

Damian grabbed Marinette's hand and kissed it, "See you in two days."

"Little D!" Dick whispered in shock.

"My apologies." he smirked, "I figured it was better than a kiss on the cheek you are accustomed to since you do not know me."

Her cheeks bloomed pink and she quickly pulled her hand out of his grip. She turned around and ordered someone to get a pot of coffee started. Damian smirked.

'Seems she may just be as eager to see me again. A game of war, perhaps? Who would submit first?'

"Demon Spawn?" Jason questioned.

"I'm already fluent in French, but did none of you study the customs or culture?" He asked, "It's common here to be kissed. As I stated, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. We get enough of that at those galas Father forces us to go to and I'm not going to be the reason Father gets called."

As they walked to the car, he could hear his brothers groaning on how it was common to kiss someone, mostly on the cheek. They had all checked their phones. It was fine to let them think that for awhile.

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