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There once was a very crabby Lusus. He never thought he would have a grub like all the other Lusi, because his blood colour was so bright that no little Troll ever matched it. And in this particular story, the very crabby Lusus didn’t want a grub, because they’re an obnoxiously loud abomination to nature and do nothing but cry, sleep, eat and poop. The very crabby Lusus is also not a Lusus, but in fact just another Troll, left to care for his Dancestor’s screaming, wriggling spawn with ‘help’ from his Fishy Assistant and Matesprit, Eridan Ampora.
The name of this very crabby not-a-Lusus is Karkat Vantas, and he has no idea what he’s doing.
Kankri nuzzles the grub one last time, then takes a deep breath and moves to pass the squirming bundle to his dancestor. Karkat holds out his arms, then draws them back, then holds them out again and takes a step forwards.
“Karkat,” Kankri hesitates, still holding the grub close to his chest, “are you quite sure you’re going to be alright with this?”
The younger Vantas nods, trying to convince himself that what he’s about to say is actually true, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Kankri frowns. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his dancestor with his offspring – Karkat may be a potty-mouth with a bad temper, but he’d never do anything intentionally hurtful – it’s just that he’s not sure if Karkat’s ready. A grub is a big responsibility, as Kankri knows from having it thrust upon him with little to no warning (not that he regrets it), and even at nine sweeps it was a struggle to adjust. Karkat is barely seven, Eridan too, and no matter how old they are, their schoolfeedings would never have prepared them for dealing with an actual live grub.
“Oh for Gods sakes, givve ‘em here.” Eridan flicks his scarf over his shoulder and makes an outstretched cradle with his arms. It’s only a little grub, how hard can it be to just hold the damn thing? No different from those times Feferi would shove cuttlefish into Eridan’s lap and tell him to look after them whilst she caught more. Except minus the underwater part. Although, the grub is a sea-dweller, so maybe he will be holding it underwater at some point?
Karkat lowers his hands with a relieved sigh. Hey, if his mate wants to give Lusushood a go then who would he be to stand in the way? For a moment Kankri freezes, unsure how much he should trust someone who used to slaughter Lusi and leave grubs orphaned – yes Eridan has proven himself reformed, he knows that, but Alternian culture was so different to Beforus, and the closest either of them got to Trolls caring for grubs was Beforan culling or very young Moirallegence. What if there’s something the boys don’t know about? What if they try to ring one of the parents and their phones don’t work inside the restaurant? What if-
“Kan,” Cronus places a comforting hand on his mate’s shoulder, “It’ll be okay.”
He could tell by the look on Kankri’s face that he was running through worst case scenarios again, like he had been on the walk over, and the night before, and after arranging for the boys to grubsit in the first place. It’s not that Cronus isn’t a little worried too, this grub is half his after all and he would throttle anyone who tried to hurt them, but the longer Kankri goes without a little time apart, the worse things are going to get. Don’t want the kid growing up into one of those Trolls who never leaves their hive, or still clings to their guardian after their second pupation. Plus, he was getting kinda sick of seeing their Dancestors so care-free and lovey-dovey all the time – they needed a reality check on where their relationship was heading.
Relaxed by the contact and reassurance from his Matesprit, Kankri steels himself and finally passes over his grub, keeping contact with them for as long as possible, then holding his hands underneath until he’s certain Eridan won’t drop them – he’s not expecting him to of course, it’s just a precaution. Normally, Eridan would have reminded him that he’s not a fucking wiggler, and is quite capable of something as simple as holding a bundle of blankets and squish with legs that weighs the same as a bag of sugar. But you can’t blame someone for wanting to protect something that they carried around inside them for eight perigees, so he lets Kankri’s fussing slide.
Relieved that he’s the one with his hands still free, Karkat moves closer and takes a peek at what will be their sole responsibility for the next three hours. It’s asleep – figures – but even without all the chattering and wailing, it’s so obviously related to Kankri. It has his blood for starters, with a bright red, velvet body and tiny pink freckles on its rosy cheeks. It got those from Cronus, along with its aural fins and little gills clamped shut above its first pair of legs. The blanket covers the rest of it, but Karkat’s seen the tail hiding under there – and been smacked by it, which was surprisingly painful considering the size.
“Goodbye sweetheart,” Kankri whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to one of the grub’s rounded, wavy horns, “I love you.”
Cronus tickles its nose, making its face scrunch up in its sleep, “Lowve you kiddo, be good.”
He tells the boys to message either of them if they have a problem, and then ushers Kankri out of the door before he can start another lecture about proper grub feeding techniques and how “the little one prefers to eat all of their food from a spoon rather than a pronged eating device, and whilst I do not advise finger feeding, if you must resort to it to prevent them from starving then please do.” Honestly, he worries way too much – this date night is just what he needs to de-stress. Or maybe it’ll make him worry more, but Cronus is going to hope for the former.
“Do you wwanna hold it noww?” Eridan asks quietly once the door is closed.
Karkat wrinkles his nose, “No, it seems fine with you. I’d like to keep it asleep for as long as we can.”
“Yeah, good point.”
They linger in the hallway for a few moments, Eridan waiting to see if the grub stirs at its parents’ absence, and Karkat too afraid to move in case he wakes it up regardless. But when the grub remains dozing in the sea-dweller’s arms, they cautiously take it into the livingblock. It gurgles when Eridan lowers himself onto the couch, and both of them freeze as it wriggles further into the blanket. Then it stills again and they let out a sigh in unison.
“Are you sure you don’t wwant to hold it?” Eridan whispers, tilting the grub towards Karkat as soon as he sits down, “I mean, the last time I tried wwhen it wwas awake it near fuckin’ deafened me, an’ I don’t exactly wwant a repeat a that.”
Eridan and Cronus are only alike from behind, but Karkat could pass for Kankri if he just took care of his hair a little more than brushing it as if he’s trying to pull it out. When the grub does wake up, it’ll probably be less inclined to wail like a horrorterror if the face it sees is at least somewhat familiar.
Karkat sighs, looking down at the grub, “Maybe it’s your glasses?”
Eridan rolls his eyes with a slight growl, “Kar just hold the damn thing, it ain’t gonna kill you, I doubt it could fight it’s wway out of a paper bag at this point.”
Karkat scoffs, “I’m not scared of it, I just-”
His voice is cut off by a soft whimper, the sound getting louder as the grub stirs, it’s tiny legs scrabbling around and dragging the blanket into a cocoon. Eridan’s body goes stiff and his eyes widen like a hopbeast in headlights. He practically shoves the grub into Karkat’s lap, willing him desperately to take it. And with a face like that – drooped fins and those pleading, amethyst eyes that seem huge behind his thick glasses – how could Karkat say no? Even if it does mean holding the grub. Oh God it’s so squishy and it’s moving and it’s still making that awful sound. He props the bundle up against his arm the best he can, leaning his face away from it slightly.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He mutters under his breath, trying to replicate the way Kankri always bounces the grub a little.
For a second it seems to be working as the grub hiccups and goes quiet. Then it cracks an eye open and immediately begins to whine, screwing it’s little face up and attempting to hide under the blanket. Karkat can feel his pusher begin to thump, anxiety gripping his stomach as the high pitched noise shoots right up into his horns.
“No, no, no,” He stills his arms, switching to simply patting the grubs back in one of the most desperate shoosh-paps of his life, “shush, shh, shoosh.” Hey, got to try all the variations right?
As much as Eridan’s own instincts are screaming at him to help, he’s too afraid to even breathe loudly in case it ruins whatever is keeping the grub from getting too upset. So instead, he slowly places a hand on Karkat’s back, rubbing gentle circles into the tense muscles. Karkat leans into his touch, sighing out another shush as the grub’s cries begin to die down again. Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad, it’s just like dealing with every other upset Troll who won’t listen to you. Eventually the grub uncovers its face, expression completely blank and bright red orbs staring directly up at its cherry-blooded genetic relative – there has got to be a better word for that. Maybe the humans will have one.
Karkat glances at Eridan, then back at the grub, “What?”
The grub waves its forelimbs in the air, and when it opens its mouth both Trolls cringe pre-emptively, awaiting the scream. But the grub doesn’t cry, or wail, or screech like it’s being murdered. It chirrs. All high-pitched and gargling, half-way to a trill. Karkat’s pusher jumps into his throat, pushing out a chirr of his own in reply, and at the same time Eridan trills softly beside him. Karkat instinctively turns to nuzzle at the sea-dweller’s neck, feeling the spines of his fins gently fluttering in his hair. Then he remembers where he is and pulls away to look at the grub, cheeks prickling with warmth. Grubsitting in your Dancestor’s house is not the time to be getting all lovey-dovey with your mate, no matter what Karkat’s hindpan is telling him. The little thing in his arms wiggles its aural fins, now looking up at said mate with that same wide-eyed curiosity.
“Oh God Kar,” Eridan sighs, leaning against his Matesprit’s shoulder, “its fuckin’ adorable wwhen it’s not cryin’.”
“Shh!” Karkat gives him a subtle elbow to the side, “Don’t swear in front of it, Kankri will kill me if it picks up any ‘curse words’.”
“I’m just sayin’,” Eridan grumbles, “also oww, that hurt, you douch- spongemuffin.”
Karkat snorts out a laugh, “Oh my God, you are so bad at PC name-calling, something ending in ‘muffin’ sounds more like a slightly offensive pet name than anything remotely insulting, you gargantuan dingus.”
“I had to think quick okay? At least I tried.” Eridan argues half-heartedly, resting his head against Karkat’s. “So wwhat should wwe do wwith it noww that wwe’ve established it’s not gonna throww a tantrum just from lookin’ at our faces?”
Karkat hums in thought, watching the grub slowly drift back into another nap, “Well Kankri said it’d need feeding, but I guess it’ll tell us when it wants that?” At least he hopes anyway. He now sorely regrets not listening to Kanaya when she was telling him about raising a grub.
As if the mere mention of food is enough to make the grub hungry, it rolls over begins chewing on the blanket, pulling out fibres with its needle-like teeth. He may not know a lot about grubs, but Karkat’s pretty sure that they’re not supposed to eat inanimate objects.
“Hey, stop, don’t do that.” He slots his finger between the grub and the cloth, gently pushing on its cheek to try and urge it to face the other way.
It lets go, albeit reluctantly after a cry of protest, and then clamps its mouth around Karkat’s finger.
“Ouch!” He tries to pull away, but the grub holds on, giving a high-pitched growl, “Let go you little fuc- fudgesickle!” They may not look like much, but grub fangs really fucking hurt when they’re trying to gnaw your finger off from the second knuckle down.
Eridan hides a chuckle behind his hand, receiving a glare from Karkat until the grub bites down harder and draws his attention again.
“No, stop! Did Kankri not teach you any Go- Coddamn manners?”
Still laughing, Eridan reaches over and tickles the grub behind its fin, hoping that being a mutant hasn’t erased all of its sea-dweller reflexes. Thankfully, the grub reacts as expected within a matter of seconds, releasing Karkat’s finger and rolling onto its back with a chirp, squirming and gurgling long after Eridan moves his hand away. Karkat frowns and examines his finger; the skin peppered with tiny red pinpricks.
“I think you’ll livve.” Eridan says, giving Karkat a smug smile after being met with another scowl.
Karkat growls, turning his attention back to the grub just in time to watch it curl into a ball and let out an almighty screech, the likes of which horrorterrors would be consumed with envy just to hear an echo of.
“Quick let it bite you again!” Eridan shouts, hands clamped over his ears.
“No way! Just-” Karkat wracks his brain for something useful, patting the grub’s back in a vain effort to shut it up, “hold it whilst I go look for a toy or something!”
“Wwhat?” Eridan barely has time to protest before the grub is placed onto his lap, and he has to cradle it like his ears aren’t about to start bleeding from the awful wailing spilling out of its protein chute.
Karkat dashes upstairs to the respiteblock, frantically scanning the room for the white shark plush that he’s seen in all of the pictures Kankri showed him, “Shit’s sake Kankri, the one time I actually need you to be fucking organised!” He moves the pillows off of the grub’s stupid human cocoon, barely bothering to put them back properly when there’s not a fluffy fin in sight. “Where would an asshole put his kid’s favourite toy?” He mumbles angrily to himself, moving onto the next part of the room, “Not anywhere obvious that’s for fucking sure, because clearly nobody else is going to need to find the one thing that’ll stop the little shitter from crying, of fucking course not!” He’s practically shouting by the time he finishes tearing apart the last possible hiding place under a blanket in the corner – turns out it was just hiding Cronus’ dirty laundry, fucking wonderful.
Then in the silence – the beautiful, wonderful silence – he notices the abrupt lack of blood-curdling screeching from downstairs. This either means that a, Eridan has successfully found the shark or another way to placate the grub, or b, he’s done something Karkat doesn’t even want to think about. Trusting his Matesprit enough to not consider the second option, Karkat creeps back downstairs – on wobbly legs for some reason, when did he start shaking? – and into the livingblock. Eridan is still holding the grub, brows knitted as he watches it chew on the end of his scarf, the material barely keeping its positon on his neck as half of it pools around of the grub’s feet.
“I tried to stop it,” He says, half annoyed, half resigned, “but it’s either this or burst sponge clots, an’ I rather like my hearin’ if I’m being perfectly honest.”
Karkat pinches his nose with a sigh, “Fine, okay, let’s try and bribe it with food or something, this is probably it’s way of telling us that it’s so hungry even your nasty old scarf looks appetising.”
“Excuse you, but my scarf is plenty appetisin’.” Eridan immediately wishes he hadn’t said that because it made no fucking sense whatsoever, but after a moments doubt he decides to just stick with it because backpedalling would probably make it worse.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” Karkat runs a hand through his hair and wanders into the nutritionblock. Honestly, he’d get sick of his Matesprit’s stupidity if it wasn’t so Goddamn pitiable.
Okay, food, food, where would Kankri put the food? If Karkat had been paying attention, he would have noticed a message taped to the front of the thermal hull, but with his pan still addled from the grub’s earlier distress, he misses it completely and ends up knocking it off to then slide under a nearby counter. What he does find though, is a white fin peeking over the top of a cabinet. He jumps up, arm reached up, but barely manages to touch the tip, let alone get a good enough grip to pull it down. Fuck being short, seriously.
“Eridan! Get your rear in here!”
The sea-dweller appears in the doorway too quickly to have not been waiting, the grub now resting against his shoulder as it continues drooling all over his scarf. Gross. Karkat’s going to remember that next time Eridan tries to put it anywhere near his face.
“Did you find somethin’?”
“Okay so I don’t have a fu- foxing clue how it got up there, but the fluffy shark toy that Kankri always gives the grub is on top of that cabinet.”
Eridan follows Karkat’s line of sight, “Oh,” then he smirks, “can you not reach it?”
“You make a single joke about my height and I will shove-” Karkat pauses, thinking of a threat he can get away with, “I will make my strife specubus become one with your hoo-ha, got it?”
The sea-dweller nods, fins a light shade of purple as he passes the grub over. He gives up on keeping his scarf, wrapping it around the grub’s blanket cocoon a few times and then reaching up to pluck the shark from its perch. The grub lets out an excited babble of chirrups, gripping the toy against its body as soon as Eridan holds it within range. Having now forgotten about the scarf completely, it allows Eridan to untangle it and… Promptly throw it back into the living room because there is no way he’s going to wear it in that state. A thorough wash and some repairs are in order. Or maybe he’ll just get a replacement alchemised and let the grub keep this one, it’s not like he hasn’t already got three of them for different occasions.
Even without anything in its mouth, the grub stays quiet, much to the boys’ relief.
“Do you think wwe should still feed it?”
Karkat shrugs. Then his phone vibrates in his pocket, and he passes the grub back to Eridan to answer it.
From: Kankri
Hell9, Karkat. I d9 n9t intend t9 pester y9u 9r interrupt y9ur present activities, especially in the chance that y9u are currently engaged in s9me urgent matter with the gru6, 6ut I must ask: have y9u fed the gru6 yet?
Oh. He shows the message to Eridan and they decide that it’s probably a good idea to at least try and shovel some food into the little blighter. But they can’t let Kankri know they’ve been having trouble, or he’ll rush back home and spend the next week lecturing them.
To: Kankri
OF COURSE WE HAVE.
That still doesn’t solve the problem of actually finding the grub food though.
To: Kankri
BUT IF I WERE TO PUT THE FOOD BACK IN THE RIGHT PLACE, WHERE WOULD I PUT IT?
Okay he’s totally going to see through that, but whatever.
From: Kankri
H9nestly, Karkat, I d9 suggest that y9u impr9ve y9ur spacial awareness. The cereal rightfully 6el9ngs in the sec9nd cup69ard fr9m the left, and the jars g9 in the thermal hull. Alth9ugh, if they have 6een 9ut f9r l9nger than thirty minutes, I request that y9u please disp9se 9f them.
Holy shit, he fell for it. Karkat doesn’t know how or why, but he is certainly not going to question it.
To: Kankri
COOL THANKS.
From: Kankri
G99d luck feeding the gru6.
Oh. Either Kankri felt bad about pretending to go along with Karkat’s ruse – probably some bullshit about ‘teaching him it’s okay to lie’ and how that makes him a bad role model – or he actually didn’t realise and Cronus explained it to him after seeing the messages. Honestly, Karkat doesn’t know which ones more likely. He puts his phone away and opens the thermal hull, pulling out a couple of the jars labelled “gru6 f99d” and setting them on the counter. They’re different colours – and presumably different flavours – so hopefully it’ll like at least one of them.
Meanwhile, Eridan is holding the grub on his lap in the dining block, keeping one hand firmly on its back whilst the other taps the screen of his phone.
To: Cronus
Cro your spawwn is a fuckin menace it keeps tryin to eat my scarf
From: Cronus
awv man, I thought I raised it to hawve better taste than that.
To: Cronus
Oh fuck off im doin you a favvour here remember
From: Cronus
and you vwere the one vwho messaged me, remember?
To: Cronus
Fuck you
From: Cronus
sorry doll, Kanny’s got that cowvered.
Eridan stops the conversation there, not even caring that Cronus had the last word because he really doesn’t need to hear about how the little thing squirming against his stomach was formed. He picks it up and rearranges the blanket to be a proper cocoon again, although it’s a little awkward with that huge shark still in the way.
“Okay, I have like...four different types of mushed shi- stuff here, so let’s try them out and pray for our sanity.” Karkat places three bowls on the table, keeping one in his hand along with a spoon as he sits down next to Eridan.
“Howw are wwe supposed to feed it wwith this in the wway?” The sea-dweller flicks the plush on its nose.
“We bribe it.” Karkat says, scooping up some of the orange mush and holding it out to the grub, “Hey look, what’s this?” He says in as soft of a voice as possible, wafting the food under the grub’s nose.
The grub sniffs it, then screws up its face, turning away with a squeal. Of course, because this was never going to be easy.
“Right, not that one.” Karkat mutters, wiping the spoon off before trying the next bowl – yellowish beige mush this time. Yum. “How about this?”
He repeats the process, and the grub seems tempted for all of about two seconds before it flares its fins and hisses, pushing the spoon away with its tiny claws.
“Oh you little-!” Karkat growls, only restraining himself because of the cold knee gently rubbing against his under the table.
Eridan smiles when the two boys lock eyes, propping the grub up a little more with a look that says ‘it’s nothin’ personal Kar, just try again’. Like he would know anything about grubs.
“Sorry, sorry.” Karkat grumbles, huffing as he cleans the spoon for a second time and moves on to the third bowl – some green-brown stuff. He glances at Eridan, “Third time’s the charm.”
Eridan nods, silently willing the grub to just stop complaining already. Karkat takes a deep breath and waves the spoon slowly back and forth, the grub’s head following and nose twitching as it sniffs. Then it opens its mouth and takes a bite. And another. And another, until the spoon is empty.
Karkat smiles a little, scooping up more food and then offering it, “Want some more?”
The grub is just as eager as before, making quiet little chirps until its mouth is full again.
“Then let go of this, and you can have it.” Karkat places a hand on the shark, gently tugging as the grub becomes more and more interested in the food.
By some miracle, Karkat’s rather forceful bribery works, and he manages to move the plush onto the table and out of potential spillage range – Kankri probably wouldn’t appreciate it getting all dirty. Seriously though, who buys a grub a white toy? That’s like having white sheets on your concupiscent platform, it’s just asking for stains. The grub whimpers slightly, but is too preoccupied with lapping up the food to put up a real protest. Well that was easy. It makes contented hums as it licks the spoon clean, crawling forwards to nudge at Karkat’s wrist when it’s done.
The cherry-blood flinches, not used to feeling something so small and warm against his bare skin. He thinks it was the grub’s nose, and is torn between patting its head and going back for a pair of gloves. He does neither of these things, instead giving the grub what it asked for. Soon enough, Karkat has shovelled enough food into the grub’s mouth to completely empty the bowl, and after he scrapes up one last spoonful, the grub licks at it lazily before falling asleep. Karkat was expecting a massive ‘clean-up on aisle grub’ situation, with lots of napkins and water and probably shouting, but somehow the grub managed to not get a single drop on the blanket or in its hair. It seems to fit though – just look at its immaculately groomed parents.
The older Trolls let out sighs of relief in unison when the grub closes its eyes. Eridan tucks the shark back up against its side, carrying it into the living block where the three of them settle down again on the sofa. He’s known for a while that sea-dwellers trill in their sleep – most don’t find out until someone else tells them, but he had the fortune of sleep-overs with Feferi as a wiggler. But to hear it coming out of something so small and doll-like, it’s almost surreal, as if the grub isn’t actually a living thing. He takes back what he said about the grub being a menace, how could a perfect, miniature, mutant sea-dweller like this be anything other than simply adorable?
“Think there’s anything else we need to do?” Karkat whispers once he’s sure the grub is asleep.
“Don’t think so.” Eridan pauses for a moment, watching the grub’s fins twitch as it dreams. “Maybe we should call Kan?”
Karkat frowns, “Why? Weren’t you the one who said you owed Cronus a favour and that you wouldn’t disturb him unless it was an emergency?” He gestures to the sleeping grub, “Does this look like an emergency to you?”
Eridan rolls his eyes, “I meant Kanaya you twwat, not Kankri.”
“Oh.” Karkat snorts a little, but stifles it when Eridan gives him a ‘don’t laugh at my accent’ pout. “But still, why?”
“’Cause she’s arguably the most qualified person wwe knoww, evven more than Kan and Cro put together, an’ Por probably knowws wwhats goin on anywway so Kan might havve givven her a list or somethin’ just in case.”
Well, Karkat can’t argue with him there, it does make sense to ask someone who was literally raised to hatch and look after a grub. Even if Karkat would prefer to just let the thing sleep and deal with what it needs next after it wakes up.
“Okay, I’ll ask her.” He says, leaning over to give his Matesprit a quick kiss that turns into a borderline make out. Over a sleeping grub. Classy Vantas, real classy.
They remember where they are at the same time, both pulling back and looking away, light flushes on their cheeks. Seriously, it’s like just being around something that shares their genes is making them act all sickeningly red with each other. Maybe… It is? Or maybe it’s just ‘the mood’, which Eridan often uses as an excuse for over the top PDA. Whatever, they can discuss that later when they’re back in one of their own hives and a grub isn’t around to overhear.
Karkat returns to the nutritionblock to avoid waking the tiny beast, having decided to call Kanaya instead of just messaging her, because this human ‘texting’ system is way too slow. It rings… and rings. Then the receiver crackles.
“Hello Karkat?”
“Hey, Kanaya, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, what about?”
Karkat hesitates, thinking of how to word it before just blurting out “Grubs.”
“Oh,” The silence that stretches out feels like forever, “what exactly about them?”
Karkat is about to reply, when there’s a rustling sound and hushed arguing, before Porrim’s voice replaces Kanaya’s.
“Hello, dear. Kanny had already informed me that you were grubsitting tonight. He left me a message to read to you if you called,” She clears her throat, “the grub’s meals are located in the thermal hull, they are homemade blend of healthy, wiggler-approved foods, and come in several flavours, so a little experimentation may be required to discern which one the grub wants. If the grub becomes hungry after their meal, you may feed them one small bowl of cereal from the second cupboard on the left, and if you are going to add milk please warm it up slightly in a water bath beforehand. Spare blankets and clothes are in the grub’s personal wardrobe in our respiteblock, so please do not go rummaging around in other places to look for things. "Mr. Sharky" is the little one’s favourite toy, and should they become distressed, he is on the top shelf in the nutritionblock – I apologise if the placement triggers you about your height Karkat, but Cronus put it there before we left and I forgot to ask him to move it to a more accessible location. Oh and one final thing, if the grub absolutely refuses to go to sleep, try either reading them a book or putting on one of the grub-friendly DVDs on the bottom shelf of the livingblock cabinet. P.S. I did leave you a note on the thermal hull detailing all of this information, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it has removed itself in some way rather than being simply overlooked. I also commend you for acknowledging when you need help.” She lets out a deep sigh when Kankri’s message finally comes to an end.
“Oh,” Is all that Karkat manages from amongst the new information swarming his pan, “okay, uh thanks, guess the note fell off the thermal hull.”
It would have been nice to know all of that beforehand – who leaves a note when they’re actually going to see the person when they leave? Why couldn’t Kankri have given it to them when he handed over the grub? That would have been so much easier.
“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Porrim says, “I’ll pass you back to Kanaya now.”
“No I don’t need-!”
And she’s gone.
“Hello again Karkat, I apologise for Porrim jumping in so suddenly, although, admittedly, she did know more than me about the situation.” Kanaya sounds almost offended.
Karkat shrugs, then remembers how phones work, “It’s fine, really.”
“So, are you enjoying your role as an uncle?”
Karkat frowns, “A what now?”
Kanaya chuckles, “An uncle, it’s what the humans call someone who is closely related to one of their parents. Typically a hatchmate or long-term quadrant of a hatchmate.”
Oh hey, there’s that thing he was sure the humans would have a word for.
“Does that mean if Porrim had a grub, you’d be its uncle?”
She laughs again, “No, I would be its auntie because I am female, however, I suppose gender roles are a little obsolete in our present situation.”
“Oh, well that’s still pretty cool,” Karkat glances back towards the livingblock as he hears the grub stirring again, “Hey, the little fucker’s awake so I should go, but thanks for the help.”
“No problem, but,” she pauses, “I hope you aren’t using that language around the grub.”
Karkat scoffs, “Of course not, I’m censoring myself so I sound like some idiot villain on a wiggler’s TV show.”
More laughing, because Karkat’s voice apparently functions the same as chuckle gas, “Ah good to hear, I shall let you return to your uncle duties, goodbye and good luck.”
“Bye.”
What is it with everyone wishing him good luck? It’s just a grub. A noisy, fussy grub, but it’s not like they’re looking after a horrorterror. Then there’s a screech and Karkat starts to think that maybe they are.
“What did you do to it?” He yells, poking his head around the door.
Oh God what is that smell? It’s like something died and then melted in a pit of toxic waste.
“I didn’t do anythin’!” Eridan shouts back, holding the grub at arm’s length.
Karkat clamps his fingers over his nose, “Then what’s wrong with it?”
“Wwe just fed it Kar, wwhat happens after you feed somethin’?”
“Oh God it hasn’t.”
Eridan grimaces, “Yeah, it really has.”
For a few breaths – that is if either of them were actually breathing – they just stand there, looking between each other and the now snivelling grub.
Then Karkat gives in and holds his arms out before the wailing can start up again, “I’ll wash it, you get some new clothes from its wardrobe in Kankri’s respiteblock.”
He’s watched Kankri do it before – one of the few times Karkat’s grateful that he let his dancestor drag him into a lecture – it can’t be that hard right? Eridan gives him a ‘you’re a lifesaver’ smile and dashes upstairs, leaving the grub hanging on the end of Karkat’s arms.
“You’d better thank me for this when you’re older.” Karkat grumbles, keeping the grub as far away as possible as he carries it to the ablutionblock.
The blanket gets tossed straight into the wash chute with as little skin contact as possible. Thank goodness those things are air tight. Then he spots a box labelled ‘grub cleaning kit’ and quickly opens it, slipping on the gloves inside, as well as taking a handful the wet tissues from the packet next to them. When Karkat feels brave enough to actually assess the damage, it’s not as bad as he was expecting considering all the fuss the little thing made. He turns away to take a deep breath, then holds it in as he wipes the squirming grub down as quickly as possible.
‘Yeah, laugh it up you little fucker,’ Karkat thinks as the grub chirrups and giggles, obviously enjoying being treated like a spoilt prince.
Eridan returns with a new blanket by the time Karkat’s done washing the grub, and then his hands – even though he wore gloves he still doesn’t feel clean. They bundle the grub up in Karkat’s arms and return ‘Mr Sharky’, which is seems positively ecstatic about.
“Oh, we’re uncles by the way.” Karkat says as Eridan hugs him from behind, hands around his waist and chin on his shoulder, looking down fondly at the wide-eyed creature in his mate’s arms.
“Uncles?”
“That word we were trying to think of for the relationship between someone’s spawn and their hatchmate,” Karkat replies, “Kanaya said guys are uncles and girls are aunties.”
“Oh,” Eridan smiles, nuzzling at Karkat’s face, “wwell, I’m gonna be the best uncle that any kid wwill evver have. I'm gonna teach it to shoot, and to drive a boat, and obvviously howw to dress ‘cause I don't put a lick of faith in Kan or Cro's fashion sense.”
Karkat scoffs, leaning back against the sea-dweller as his chest swells with this familiar, yet somehow alien warmth, “Then I guess I’ll have to teach it some common social decency, because obviously I’m the only one who’s normal around here.”
Eridan kisses his horn with a chuckle, “You’re anythin’ but normal lovve, an’ I wwouldn’t havve it any other wway.”
God that was so cheesy, and in an ablutionblock no less, but it was also so unbearably sweet that Karkat can’t find it within him to tease Eridan about it. Instead, he lets himself blush and smile, enjoying the oddly sentimental moment and trying to ignore all of the thoughts he’s having suddenly about raising his own grub. He is way too young and under-prepared for that. Besides, if this night has taught him anything so far, it’s that grubs are only cute half of the time – usually when they’re asleep – and even if they are behaving, you’re just waiting for them to decide they want to scream the place down about something. Again.
But this time, it’s not the grub’s protests that break the silence, it’s Karkat’s. or more specifically, his stomach’s.
“Kar howw in the fu-uh-heck are you hungry after all a that?” Eridan’s clearly running out of PC curses. Not that he had many to begin with; ‘bad language’ wasn’t really a problem on Alternia so it’s difficult to think up alternatives on the spot.
“Maybe because it was super-duper stressful, and I would very much like to forget about it with the comforts of sustenance.” God, he’s starting to sound like a weird mix of Kanaya and Kankri.
Eridan rolls his eyes in mock irritation, “Come on then.” He lets go of Karkat’s waist and takes the grub, following him into the nutritionblock.
Karkat counts the cupboards, knowing exactly what he wants. Aha, second from the left. He opens and door and grabs a box of cereal, holding it triumphantly up for Eridan to see.
“Grumpios? Wwhat in Cod’s name are they, an’ wwhy do I get the impression you ate them a lot as a wwiggler?”
It takes a moment for the true meaning of the words to sink in. Eridan can almost see the cogs turning under those nubby little horns. Then when it finally clicks, Karkat growls and sticks his tongue out.
“Oh ha, ha, very funny Ampora,” He takes out a bowl and pours in a generous portion of cereal, followed by milk to the point where it’s almost overflowing, “But yes, I did eat these a lot, because they’re amazing and shouldn’t be just for grubs. Did you seriously not have them?”
The violet-blood shakes his head, “They didn’t really make sea-dwweller cereal, somethin’ that goes all soggy is kind a pointless considerin’ wwe’re supposed to live underwwater.”
“Now that’s just sad, I practically lived on these, they’re great.”
Eridan watches Karkat shovel a spoonful of the beige coloured hoops into his mouth, “They don’t look that great, you sure they’vve been alchemised right?”
Karkat just nods, too preoccupied with enjoying the beloved taste of something he hasn’t been able to have for sweeps.
“Want to try some?” He asks when he’s finished his mouthful and his boyfriend is still watching him like he’s just eaten battery acid.
Eridan tilts his head, considering for a moment if he actually wants to eat something that looks like it’s made of cardboard. Well, if his Matesprit and the grub he’s an uncle to are going to be eating it, he should probably try some. Just to make sure it’s okay.
“Okay, sure, but if they’re horrible I blame you.” He reaches for the spoon, but Karkat smacks his hand, “Hey wwhat wwas that for?”
Karkat remains silent and gathers a spoonful of cereal, then holds it out as if he’s feeding the grub, a devious smirk on his face, “Open up.”
Eridan’s brows furrow in a vain effort to fight back the heat turning his cheeks violet, “Really Kar?”
“Yes really, you’re supposed to keep two hands on the grub at all times and you can’t do that if one of those said appendages is attempting to maneuver an eating device into your face gash.” He replies, completely seriously, “So if you want to try some. Open. Up.” The last two words are clear as crystal, his lips popping on the ‘p’ sounds.
Hmm, Eridan supposes that’s logical enough. After all, it’s only natural to help someone out whilst they’re currently helping you fulfil a favour to help out someone else. He shuffles forwards and tentatively opens his mouth, closing it just as slowly after Karkat places the spoon inside. The cherry-blood watches his mate with this look of satisfaction in his eyes, lips still quirked into a little smile as he eases the eating utensil out, being mindful of the sea-dweller’s teeth. Eridan’s not quite sure how to feel about the way Karkat’s looking at him, so he focuses on the actual point of all of this. The cereal is better than he anticipated, not as great as Karkat made it out to be, but still pretty good for land-dweller grub food. He tells Karkat as much when he’s finished, and they end up sharing the bowl between them as the grub dozes again.
Thankfully, it doesn’t seem hungry when it wakes up. It just chirps at its caretakers, still wrapped around the plush shark. Then it shivers, and Eridan retrieves his scarf from the livingblock to add an extra layer to the grub’s little cloth cocoon, before sitting down on the sofa. It chirrups appreciatively, rubbing it’s face over the tattered end that it had been chewing what feels like hours ago – it’s only been one hour at most. Seeing the grub wrap itself in his scarf, Eridan remembers the spare clothes he grabbed from the grub’s wardrobe. Karkat’s washing the dishes, so he eases himself and the grub down onto the floor, then decaptchalogues the pile of miniature outfits. There’s tiny scarves, sweaters with extra leg holes, hats, booties, a princess outfit, a tuxedo, a mini leather jacket – obviously Cro’s choice. Eridan doesn’t know where to start.
He places the grub by the clothes, picking up the first thing it nuzzles at. The tuxedo. Hell yes. The grub squirms and makes squeaks of protest as each layer is fitted around its squishy body, and Eridan realises at this moment just how difficult it is to coordinate fitting six, claw-like legs into individual arm holes. He now understands the struggles his Lusus had, and wonders how on Alternia some of his fashionably-dressed grub pictures ever came about. Either Seahorsedad had the technique down to a fine art, or Eridan’s just really bad at it. But eventually, the grub gives up and let's itself get dressed to the nines, complete with a sparkly pink bow tie. It didn’t want to wear the top hat though, which Eridan completely understands – hats just mess up your hair.
Karkat shuts off the water, heading back into the livingblock for a rest, only to find Eridan in a pile of clothes on the floor, holding up the grub and looking all proud of himself.
Yes, because making a poor defenceless creature look like a total pompous idiot is definitely an achievement to be pleased about. The grub glances down at its outfit, mouth turned up in what can only be described as hatred for the clothes adorning its body. Karkat can’t help sharing the sentiment, pressing his palm between his eyes.
“Eridan, why is the grub in a tux?”
“Because it’s adorable.” Is his simple answer. “I mean, look at it.”
Karkat uncovers his face. He has to admit; it does look pretty cute, even if it doesn’t seem to agree with them. Gods help any of Eridan’s future grubs, Karkat can just see him having a whole room for their clothes and taking dozens of pictures of them in themed outfits.
“Kar, take a picture.” Eridan says, as if he read Karkat’s mind.
Karkat sighs, mentally apologising to the grub as he takes out his phone, “Just one or two, okay, it looks like it wants to eat the bow tie, and I am not explaining that one to Kankri.”
Eridan uses his cheaty sea-dweller tricks to make the grub actually smile with a fin tickle, and Karkat manages to get a few shots, including one of all three of them which took a lot of coordinating. The grub wriggles out of the clothes as soon as it’s put down, showing off just how disturbingly malleable and flexible it’s weird segmented body is. Then it crawls back into its soft cocoon of blanket, scarf, and plush, yawning and curling into a ball.
It’s tired. This is Karkat’s chance, he can finally get it to go to sleep, like actually go to sleep. What did Kankri say to do about that? Read to it? Ugh, Karkat really doesn’t feel up to reading, plus it looks like all the grub books are upstairs. Maybe a DVD then? He kneels down by the bookshelf, scanning the row of cases for the wiggler ones Kankri said would be there. Hmm, Human movies, Alternian movies, Beforus movies, documentaries, Cro's shit, Kankri's shit - Karkat gasps, his hand hovering over a DVD titled “The Very Crabby Lusus.” He pulls it out, a lump in his throat at seeing the white-carapaced Lusus on the cover, the spitting image of Crabdad. But he doesn’t cry because he’s not two sweeps old anymore.
“Found one.” He says, handing Eridan the case before he shoves the disk into the player.
“The Very Crabby Lusus.” Eridan mumbles, giving a slight laugh as Karkat sits down next to him, “Kinda sounds like you, Kar.”
Karkat nudges his arm, then snuggles closer as he presses play, “Then that makes you my fishy assistant.”
Eridan pretends to be offended, but with the grub finally still and quiet on his lap and Karkat huddled up against his side, it’s pretty hard to be anything other than contented and happy.
Karkat feels himself welling up again when the theme song he knows so well begins to play, and he can’t help himself mouthing along with the words, only noticing that he’s actually making a sound when Eridan and the grub are looking at him instead of the screen. The sea-dweller chuckles when his mate blushes pink, planting a kiss on his grumpy little face. Then the grub looks as if it’s trying to make itself warmer, hiding deeper into the blanket, so Karkat lifts it onto his lap, turning to the side and putting his legs up on the sofa as he leans back against Eridan’s chest, making a cradle out of his legs and stomach. Eridan plays with his hair and rubs around the bases of his horns, making him purr drowsily as his eyes un-focus from the screen. Yeah, he could get used to this. Even with all the other shit, this is pretty worth it.
***
“Here, let me.” Cronus says, taking the keys from Kankri’s shaking hands.
His Matesprit had been pretty well behaved on their date as far as worrying was concerned. He’d made the odd comment about hoping everything was going okay, and then there was the conversation with Karkat. But other than that, it had been one of their more relaxing afternoons since the grub arrived. The walk home had been more like a jog though, with Kankri nervously ‘checking the time’ on his phone every five minutes. When they enter, the hive is just as they left it; no clothes on the floor or food everywhere like Kankri was expecting. Not from his grub of course, they’re as good as gold usually, he was just nervous that the boys might find it difficult to deal with them, being so young and inexperienced. But to his relief, it seems that all is well.
Hearing the TV playing in the livingblock, he and Cronus venture inside. The sight that greets them is enough to stop them in their tracks; the boys are curled up on the sofa, Karkat in Eridan’s lap with the sea-dweller’s arms around him, both completely and utterly dead to the world. And resting against Karkat’s stomach is the grub, in a nest made from a blanket – different to the one they left it in – and Eridan’s scarf, Mr. Sharky just barely gripped in its sleepy claws. Cronus pulls his phone out to take a picture, but Kankri bats his arm with a stern glare. Then whilst his mate is turning off the TV, Cronus takes one anyway. No reason to pass up a potential opportunity for blackmail.
The grub twitches a fin, making a little “buh” sound as it wakes up, but its caretakers remain firmly in the land of nod. Kankri chuckles and lifts the grub up before it can disturb them. He could almost cry with the relief of finally having his spawn close to him again. They let the blanket and Mr. Sharky drop behind them, but keep a firm grip Eridan’s scarf, which is tattered slightly at one end. Kankri hopes that the young Ampora won’t be too angry about that, he does seem to have a great fondness for his clothes. Kankri bundles the scarf into his arms and then grabs the plush, carrying them upstairs and making a new nest in the grub’s proper sleeping place. But as he’s about to lay them down, he feels tiny vibrations against his hands. He freezes, bringing the grub close to his chest. The rumbles get stronger, and Kankri replies with his own, now actually crying because this is the first time his grub has ever purred and he never wants it to stop.
“Hey, vwould ya listen to that.” Cronus wraps his arms around Kankri’s waist, adding his own purr to the mix as Kankri turns and nuzzles into him.
“The boys did such a good job,” Kankri says, sniffing back his tears – such a silly thing to be crying over, it’s only a natural bodily function, “we’ll have to find some way to thank them. I know this was in return for a favour owed to you in the first place, but they performed far beyond my expectations and it would feel selfish not to reward their hard work.”
“Yeah, I get vwhat you mean,” Cronus smiles into the smaller Troll’s hair, “I’ll find somethin’ special for ‘em, maybe talk to Meens about it, I knowv they like svwimmin’.”
“How thoughtful of you-” The end of Kankri’s sentence is cut off by a yawn.
Cronus chuckles, “C’mon, let’s get you tvwo to bed.”
Kankri nods and puts the grub in its cot, watching it nestle itself into Eridan’s scarf before flopping down onto his own human sleeping platform. He still needs to change his clothes and other things, but when his Matesprit crawls in next to him, he thinks that maybe he can let it slide. Just this once.
