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Rick bursts out of the garage door, rushing into the living room where Summer, Em, and Morty sit watching TV with a manic grin carving his face.
“Everybody look what I have!” he yells, sounding far too excited for someone holding a wriggling, glowing, vaguely spherical creature in his arms.
Summer’s the first to speak. “I’m not cleaning up after it.”
Morty frowns, already anxious. “Oh geez, Rick, what the hell is that thing? Why is it making that noise? Why does it look like it wants to bite me?”
Em stares at it, arms crossed, expression flat. Prime trails out from the kitchen, soda can in hand, a bored look upon his face as he takes in the scene transpiring in their front room.
The creature in Rick’s arms is… Adorable. It’s round, covered in soft, shimmering fur that shifts colors like a mood ring. It has tiny paws, a tiny tail, and enormous black eyes that sparkle with unsettling intelligence.
“It’s completely harmless,” Rick says proudly. “It’s just a little Glorbian Snugglebeast. Totally docile. Practically a houseplant with legs.”
The creature chirps, and the lights flicker for a brief moment before stabilizing.
Prime sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That is not harmless. That is a walking lawsuit waiting to happen.”
Rick rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Relax, Prime. It’s cute. Look at it,” he says while holding the creature up in his arms as if he is Rafiki and the Glorbian Snugglebeast is goddamn Simba from ‘The Lion King.’ “He’s so fluffy; you’re gonna end up loving him,” Rick states confidently with a grin.
The creature blinks, then it turns its enormous eyes towards Em and freezes.
Everyone watches as its fur shifts to a warm, glowing gold. It lets out a soft, reverent coo.
Then it launches itself out of Rick’s arms and attaches to Em’s chest like a furry, affectionate barnacle.
Em stares down at it, expression unchanged.
“...Oh, fuck, no,” he says flatly.
The creature only purrs louder in response.
Rick claps his hands. “Oh, holy shit! It imprinted. Nice. That means you are its primary caretaker now.”
Em looks up slowly, eyes cold. “I am not taking care of this thing.”
The creature nuzzles into the front of his shirt, strangely content.
Morty blinks, moving closer to Em. “Wait, wait, wait—why him? Why not me? I’m the sweet Morty.” When Em shoots Morty a dirty look for his comment, he grows sheepish and mutters, “uh, that came out more wrong—sorry—but seriously, shouldn’t it have imprinted on me?”
The creature hisses at him.
Morty yelps and jumps back.
Summer snorts. “Duh, it’s because it has taste.”
Prime crosses his arms. “This is exactly why we don’t let Rick shop unsupervised.”
Rick shrugs. “Hey, I didn’t choose who it imprinted on. That’s its biology, baby.”
The creature kneads its tiny paws against Em’s chest, eerily like what a cat is prone to do, and chirrs at him affectionately.
Em sighs through his nose. “We’re not keeping it.”
The creature just chirps while he glares at it.
Summer leans over Em, resting her chin on his shoulder, examining the creature with curiosity. “It needs a name,” she says.
Em’s reply is instant: “No.”
“Yes,” Summer insists.
Prime mutters, “How ’bout we name it ‘Liability’?” he quips sarcastically.
Morty suggests, “Maybe something alien? Like… Glorbo? Or Zik-Zak?”
Summer shakes her head. “No. Those all sound wrong. They don’t fit him.”
She snaps her fingers.
“Kevin.”
Everyone stares at her.
Rick blinks. “Kevin?”
Morty frowns, echoing. “Kevin?”
Prime looks personally offended. “Why would you ever name it Kevin? You just want him to get bullied, don’t you?” he accuses with narrowed eyes.
Summer shrugs. “He looks like a Kevin.”
The creature chirps happily, pleased with the name.
Summer grins. “See? He likes it.”
Em closes his eyes. “I hate this.”
Kevin nuzzles into him, completely oblivious to Em’s suffering.
...
Weeks pass, and Em continues to insist—very loudly and repeatedly, with growing irritation—that he still does not care about Kevin.
He does not like Kevin.
He does not want Kevin.
He does not think Kevin is cute.
And he absolutely does not knit Kevin tiny cloaks.
Okay... Fine, he does.
Late at night, when everyone else is asleep, Em sits in the dim light of the garage with a ball of yarn and a pair of needles; Kevin sits beside him, wrapped in a half‑finished cloak, purring like a tiny, rumbling engine.
“Don’t you dare read into this as more than it is,” Em mutters, the words harsh but carrying no real bite to them.
Kevin chirps, eyes bright as he gazes at Em lovingly.
“This is purely practical. You get cold. And Summer likes you... So I’ll keep you warm. And that’s it,” he says with a huff, his cheeks warming in embarrassment.
Kevin chirps again, softer, nuzzling into Em’s side.
Em’s expression remains stoic—unchanged—but his knitting gets a tad faster.
...
Prime hates Kevin.
Not because Kevin is most likely dangerous—it’s a given when it comes to this family.
Not because Kevin is unpredictable—though that little sack of shit, no doubt, is.
Not because Kevin had once eaten an entire bottle of portal fluid—honestly Prime is still pissed about that one—the little fucker cut back his supply by at least a few days...
No.
Prime hates Kevin most of all because Kevin keeps teleporting onto him.
Like right now, he’s sitting on the couch, watching TV, when suddenly:
fwip
Kevin appears on his shoulder, purring loudly.
Prime freezes, jaw clenching in irritation. “No.”
Kevin licks his cheek.
Prime shoves him off to the ground, only for Kevin to teleport back.
And Prime repeats, shoving him off again.
Kevin teleports back again, this time onto the top of his head.
Prime stands up, fists clenching, voice trembling with rage. “I swear to god, I will bitch-slap you into the sun.”
Kevin’s only response is to curl up on his head and fall asleep.
And Prime just stands there, defeated.
...
Morty is not handling this well.
He watches Em walk around with Kevin clinging to his shirt like a baby koala, and he feels something ugly twist in his stomach.
“I don’t get it,” Morty complains one afternoon. “Why him? Why not me? I’m nice. I’m friendly. I’m good with pets.”
Rick snorts. “Morty, you once killed a goldfish by overfeeding it.”
Morty throws up his hands. “It looked hungry, Rick! You wanted me to what? Just starve it?!”
Summer pats his shoulder. “Morty, Kevin imprinted on the least openly emotional person. That’s literally the species’ whole thing.”
Morty blinks, his brain processing that bit of information. “Wait… Em’s the least emotional person?”
Em walks by at that exact moment, Kevin wrapped around his neck like a living scarf.
He doesn’t even look at them, as this is his life now...
Summer nods. “Yeah.”
Morty just sighs.
...
Kevin is... A downright menace.
A cute menace, but a menace nonetheless.
He chews on the wiring.
He eats Rick’s tools.
He teleports into the fridge and eats everything in it.
He steals Prime’s pillow.
He steals Summer’s socks.
He steals Morty’s dignity.
He never actually steals anything from Em—clearly showing his favoritism towards the boy once more.
He once teleports into the garage and sets off a chain reaction that nearly implodes the place.
Prime screams for a full thirty seconds.
Kevin chirps, never having been more proud of himself than in that moment.
...
One morning, Prime storms into the living room, holding Kevin by the scruff like a misbehaving cat.
“This thing,” he snarls, “is going back to where it fucking belongs.” He then brings Kevin closer to his face and hisses, “hell.”
Kevin chirps innocently, licking Prime’s nose.
Em stands up immediately. “Put him down.”
Prime raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Suddenly you care?”
Em’s jaw tightens. “Put. Him. Down. Now.”
Kevin teleports out of Prime’s hand and onto Em’s shoulder, wrapping around him protectively.
Prime throws his hands up and cries. “Fine! Keep your furry little parasite!”
Rick smirks. “Aw, Prime’s jealous.”
Prime glares and scoffs. “I am not jealous.”
Kevin teleports onto his head... Again and again, Prime screams, his frustration boiling over.
...
Eventually, the polycule accepts the inevitable.
Kevin is staying.
Summer buys him a tiny bed.
Morty buys him toys.
Rick builds him a containment field ‘for enrichment.’ (Mostly so Kevin has a space to run out his excess energy that doesn’t lead to the small creature destroying parts of the house).
Prime pretends not to care, but secretly he always adjusts the thermostat whenever Kevin even shivers.
And Em… Well.
Em knits him a new cloak every week, always in different colors, shapes, and patterns.
Kevin wears them proudly.
One night, as the group lounges together on the couch, Kevin curls up in Em’s lap, purring softly.
Summer smiles, her eyes tender as she pets Kevin’s furry little head. “He really loves you.”
Em doesn’t look up from his knitting. “He’s needy,” he dismisses flatly.
Kevin chirps, and Em’s expression softens—barely, but enough.
“…But I guess he’s fine.”
Kevin purrs louder.
Prime groans. “I hate this family.”
Rick smirks, elbowing his side playfully. “No, you don’t.”
Kevin suddenly teleports onto Prime’s shoulder, and Prime freezes while Kevin nuzzles him.
Then, Prime sighs, scratching his head lovingly, while fighting back a grin.
“…I hate this creature.”
Kevin just chirps, enjoying the attention, causing everyone to laugh.