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wreathedinscales · 3 years

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little bit of naga din mixed with boba and fennec as the best babysitters ever

()

"You what."

Fennec's gloves creak around her rifle. "You weren't watching either."

"I was negotiating," Boba replies tightly.

"You can multitask!"

"So can you."

They stare each other down, coming to the same conclusion: they are both idiots. Grogu is Din Djarin's Foundling. They should've known he'd learned how to escape notorious bounty hunters and sharp-eyed snipers.

"Should we search the palace first?" Fennec asks.

Boba heads to the ready room door. "On the way to Djarin's ship. Even that little womp rat shouldn't be able to open the hatch."

()

He can very much open the hatch.

Next to Slave I, The Razor Crest II is unlocked, with little sandy footprints trailing up her ramp. Fennec's already stormy expression darkens. Boba's positive that if he took off his helmet, every being besides her would cower.

Djarin doesn't ask for much for himself. The one time he does, and Boba and Fennec screw it up.

The one silver lining is the ship sounds quiet. It's thin, since Grogu undoubtedly has found his father. No saving the situation. Best Boba and Fennec can do is retrieve the child and hope Djarin's personal time off hasn't been too disrupted.

Crest II is pre-Empire like her predecessor, but big enough for quarters that actually allow space for an adult human male. The plan is to head there first, since Djarin had said "personal reasons" not "repairs" when he asked Boba and Fennec to watch Grogu for three weeks.

They don't find anything except unmade sheets, and Djarin's armor on a stand. Helmet included.

"Really personal, huh?" Fennec mutters.

"Split up," Boba replies as they turn around, "I'll take the galley. Knock on every door."

Fennec breaks off for the cockpit's ladder.

It doesn't take long to reach the galley. Boba knocks loudly, turning his helmet sensors up. He doesn't touch thermal vision, feeling as if that alone would be a gross invasion of Djarin's Creed.

Audio doesn't pick up anything. Looks like Boba's free to search for the kid.

He opens the door to a giant snake.

The tail is reptilian, at least, scales glimmering silver with black spots that shine like mother-of-pearl even in the dim light. Two levels of coils curl in the center of the room, with easily ten extra feet of length woven haphazardly around the bolted down furniture and equipment, almost comically squished in some areas. The flesh itself is almost as thick as Boba's shoulders and utterly still.

Boba keeps his breathing steady, even when he sees Grogu peek out from behind the tail's end.

"Kid," Boba says carefully, "Let's go."

With a big smile, Grogu ignores him completely. Boba doesn't waste his breath, timing his steps as the child climbs over the tail and waddles towards the coils. If the creature hasn't woken yet, their luck might hold until Boba can get them out and find Djarin. It'd be very helpful, then, if Grogu doesn't look like he's about to touch the thing again.

"Kid," Boba says. Grogu looks over, claws hovering. "Don't."

Closer.

"Grogu."

Closer.

"Stop that!" Boba hisses.

Grogu smacks the bottom coil.

The entire tail shudders, but Boba doesn't spring forward because the voice that grunts with it is familiar.

Grogu smack-smack-smacks. The tail's end drags sluggishly, slowly unwinding from around the table until it gets to him. Grogu makes a woo sound as it wraps gently around him and lifts.

A human hand, bare and slightly scarred, makes a few uncoordinated attempts at grabbing the kid. It succeeds on the fourth try only because the tail nearly brings it directly in Grogu's face. Grogu disappears in the scale pile, and Djarin sighs back to sleep.

Boba counts to five before turning around.

()

Grogu comes back for food midway through Boba's next meeting. Fennec intercepts the moment she sees his tiny shadow on the stairwell.

"So your dad's a giant snake-man, huh?" she mumbles as she carries him to the kitchens, "Explains how slithery you are."

While Grogu eats, Fennec hooks a fiber cord to the back of his collar. Once he's had his fill, she watches with vindictive glee as he reaches the cord's limit and is yanked back with a loud BAH!

"Yeah," she drawls, "Try again."

()

He tries again, and again, throws three deafening tantrums, and tries one more time. He gets the message that he's dealing with people who have dealt with many a cry for mercy.

Grogu pouts at Fennec's feet, ears drooped and everything. After some strange glances from visitors, he's completely ignored.

The day ends with only a couple executions and a satisfying fistfight. Boba rolls his shoulders among his groaning opponents and waves for his subordinates to take the bodies out.

He stops halfway to his throne.

With growing irritation, Fennec slowly follows his helmet's tilt.

The fiber cord has nothing attached.

"Dank farrik."

()

Fennec and Boba stand in the galley doorway, considering their options.

Djarin doesn't seem aware of his surroundings outside of direct touch. Theoretically, they could just scoop Grogu up and leave. But there's also the glaring fact that Djarin's helmet is in his quarters.

Finally, Boba withdraws his gaffi stick and says, "Cover your eyes."

Fennec raises an eyebrow but obeys. Helmet under his free arm, Boba pokes Djarin's tail. Hard.

Shudder, grunt, just like before. The tail swishes a little.

Boba pokes again.

The grunt is louder, more irritated.

Boba swings like he's hitting a gong. He covers his eyes just as Djarin rears up with a beastly hiss.

"Your kid's slippery," Fennec says dryly.

The hissing is replaced with a half-awake "What?"

Grogu finally feels like being helpful, saying, "Patu."

After a moment, Djarin says, "Damn it." His voice is odd without the modulator, but definitely not unpleasant. "Sorry. I should've warned you."

"We should have known," Boba replies, "He's your Foundling."

"...he is." An awkward pause. "I was—"

"Fett looks like old leather, I'm mostly metal, and we're both experienced bounty hunters," Fennec says, "Don't flatter yourself. We've seen much stranger things."

Rustling. "You can look now."

The room is as it was before, except for Grogu being held out in Djarin's tail.

Fennec takes him. "We'll keep a better eye out."

"He can come see me if he wants," Djarin says. "He just gets bored. Can't feed him either." His voice starts to slur. "Too tired."

Boba replaces his helmet. "We got this."

"Th'nk'you."

The tail falls still again.

()

"Old leather?"

Fennec smirks. "Ancient."

()

Fennec puts Grogu on her shoulder. The illusion of being tall pleases him.

Fennec can feel every little wiggle. This does not please him.

Tough. They have a schedule and he will follow it.

It takes most of Djarin's three weeks for Grogu's full cooperation. After first meal, Fennec takes him to Crest II for five minutes. He takes his afternoon nap with Djarin. At first moonrise, Grogu gets ten minutes, spending the night at the palace. He seems to mind less if he has to sleep with Boba, but only if Boba has full armor on. Boba's slept in worse conditions.

In return for Grogu's obedience, Grogu thinks it a fair trade for Boba to let him on the throne.

Boba watches with an indifferent helmet as the child tries to climb up his leg. If he can do it, Boba supposes he can stay. His father often allowed him the same opportunity on Slave I's pilot seat.

One of the delegates laughs. Boba's head snaps to them, which shuts them up quick. It doesn't take the amusement from their four eyes. Not surprising, but fixable.

As Boba considers which weapon to use, the delegate starts choking.

Boba lets alarm spread before looking at Grogu. A very familiar sight greets him: hand outstretched, fingers curling.

Boba places his hand over Grogu's. "I can fight my own battles."

The shame in Grogu's eyes is more relieving than the lack of hatred. Boba doesn't want to see another child grow up like Vader, no matter how useful the abilities.

"Besides," he says, projecting his voice, "If they lose to a child, they have no business here."

He puts Grogu on his knee.

()

Din arrives at the throne room to his Foundling sitting on Fett's throne. Fett himself is walking slowly back and forth, considering three kneeling prisoners, the pit's crate stark between them. Fennec leans against the throne as if Fett were sitting there. The crowd watches the tableau as if nothing has changed.

After the overdue rest, Din had woken refreshed. Now he's possibly more muddled than three weeks ago.

"What do you think?" Fennec asks. She's looking at Grogu, of all beings.

Grogu blinks up at her, then back at the prisoners. "Meh," he says.

"I agree," she replies. "Boss?"

Boba grunts. "Why not?"

He shoots the middle one and sends the other two to the pit with the corpse.

"I thought the creature was gone," Din says faintly.

"There are worse things in prison," Boba replies darkly. He nods to Din. "Welcome back."

The crowd parts for Din. He keeps his eyes ahead. "Thanks. I owe you."

"I won't accept debts for caring for a Foundling."

"Even if he usurped you?"

Boba snorts and grabs Grogu by the back of his collar. "You've got a power-hungry one, Mandalorian."

Din takes Grogu, who pats his helmet excitedly. "Looks that way." He nods to the crate, where screams for revenge have started. "We'll leave you to it."

"If you wish. We'll await your return."

"...latest I'll be is next planet year." Din tries not to make it sound like a question.

Fennec's mouth quirks. "Try not to let the little one hijack your ship."

Din wonders if this is what the other Foundlings meant by best friends.

#the mandalorian #ecriture #naga din djarin #please give us fennec/boba/din friendship

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twilightsporklez · 4 years

Text

For Want of a Nail, the Kin was Lost

Exactly two weeks ago, the world had entered the Darkest Timeline. Andrew Hussie, creator of Homestuck, had died from a heart attack at the ripe old age of sixty nine, and, as he had passed to the underworld, his creations had passed from the underworld to Earth. The constellations glittering in the sky, once beacons of hope, had loosened their chains and come down in order to destroy the world. The twelve trolls of Homestuck were alive, and they wanted humanity dead.

Story continued under the cut (cw: violence, death, gore)

Using their god-like powers, they first targeted power plants and the homes of world leaders. Then they came for the fans. They recruited readers of Homestuck in order to help them destroy Earth. Every one of them had agreed and had immediately sworn their loyalty.

Along with their rampages came another change. Everyone, overnight, had had their appearance changed to match that of their assigned zodiac kin. Deku, as far as he could tell, was a Vriska. He was pretty sure that his zodiac sign was Cancer, but maybe his birthday was on an edge day.

Deku had spent the first week hiding in his basement reading the entirety of Homestuck. His house had then been burned down by a rampant Sollux. Most of the city had been, actually. The only safe spots now were shelters with closely guarded locations.

He had spent the past few days wandering through the ravaged streets, searching for the location to a safehouse. The heat of the day beat down heavy against his cloak, but he dare not take it off in fear of burning his gray skin. According to a nearby spray-painted billboard, a brave Tavros had set up shop inside the EBGames he was standing in front of.

The surface was mostly bare during the day, but Deku was still cautious. He did a quick search of the surrounding parking lot before entering the lobby.

The doorbell chimed as he wiggled his way in. Deku pulled down his hood and waved at the Tavros.

"What are you in for today?" The Tavros wasn’t in character. Phew. Only those who had had quirks beforehand spoke with their typing quirk.

"Some food and a safe house, ideally." Deku turned and scanned the shelf that had used to house Nintendo games. It had a couple copies of the physical editions of Homestuck, along with a few handbooks for ‘your new troll body and you’. Deku sighed at the sight of them.

He heard a few thumps and some swearing, and turned around to find the Tavros bumping his wide horns against the door-frame of the back room. Ouch. Deku feigned interest in the handbooks to help the guy’s self esteem.

Along with the appearance and typing quirk of your assigned kin, you also gained their powers. Deku had been ecstatic at the news, but then, as always, inevitably disappointed, as it turned out that it only replaced your old quirk instead of fitting you with a new one. He was still powerless in a society filled with superheroes. Er, trolls. Quirk-having trolls were indistinguishable from the originals in every way other than their height, lack of limited immortality, attitude, and blood. Thankfully, everyone had kept their blood.

Tavros, having managed to not hit his horns this time, came back into the room carrying a couple loaves of bread and a map. "That'll be seventy dollars."

Shit. He didn't have any money. He didn't have any powers, either. The only thing Deku had, aside from his pure charisma and perceptiveness, was a bunch of weird paper that he had stolen while committing tax fraud. Wait. That's money. Deku paid quietly for the goods and then sat on the floor and took a bite of his spoils. Judging from the map, the safe house was three or four blocks away and pretty well guarded.

By the time he was finished memorizing the route, he had hungrily wolfed down an entire loaf of Wonder bread without noticing. Grabbing the remaining two loaves, he rolled up the map, pulled his faded orange hood back up, and left.

The constant surveillance of his surroundings turned a five minute walk into twenty, but it paid dividends. The original route shown on the map was crawling with Eridans looking for someone to take out their anger out on.

Happy with his avoidance of a close call, Deku examined his surroundings. The outside of the base was relatively hidden. It resembled a normal, beaten-up subway entrance. However, the bottom of the stairway was blocked off with metal and presumably, bullet proof glass with an open hole a the bottom, like at the movie theatres, or maybe a dentist. What were dentists hiding from? He would need to think about this immediately. He had time: there was a sign about someone being "OUT FOR LUNCH."

Just then, his phone went off. Labelled as the caller: "(Vriska)." Not one for dramatic pauses, Deku answered immediately.

The voice sounded female. It was hard to tell, because all they were saying was ‘doot’ over and over to the tune of some song that Deku didn't know. The audio quality was pretty bad too, like if someone made a SBAHJ podcast and then made it shittier. He hung up.

It was another ten minutes before someone came out. The Terezi had her hair cut short, and her left horn was chipped. She sat down in a chair in the booth and waved.

"N4M3??" Like eighty percent of the population, she had a quirk.

"Previously Izuku Midoriya. Currently assigned Vriska. Forgive me if I don't remove the hood."

"USU4LLY W3 CH3CK TH3 BLOOD OF SOM3ON3 B3FOR3 L3TT1NG TH3M 1N TO S33 TH3 BOSS BUT 1N YOUR C4S3 1T SHOULDNT M4TT3R."

Deku found that unsettling, but free room and board is free room and board, so he didn't question it. Terezi leaned back in her chair and slapped a button on the wall. The window between them swung open and Deku jumped back to avoid it.

“COM3 ON 1N.” Terezi moved her chair over to the side, and Deku saw that the interior was much larger than he had thought. It was a little bigger than a supply closet, and had pictures of various Homestuck characters plastered along the walls.

The space felt personal, so Deku didn’t lag behind when Terezi left down a hallway to the side.

After a short walk, the hallway opened up into an abandoned underground parking garage. The sturdy concrete walls were covered in graffiti, and most of the cars had doors busted open. Trolls from most of the hemospectrum were lazing around, talking and sleeping. All of them except for Cerulean bloods.

Maybe he should get to know the person—troll—currently leading him away from any witnesses.

Start simple. “Are Terezi’s powers any fun to use? I never had a quirk, so I’ll never get to experiment with mind-”

“1 DONT H4V3 4 QU1RK.”

“You don’t? Then why the typing quirk?” He would never have thought he would be having this kind of conversation.

“1 US3D TO K1N T3R3Z1. 1M V3RY S3NS1T1V3 4BOUT 1T.”

“I understand.” Deku did not understand, but he did not doubt for a moment that the 5’1” Terezi beside him could kill him instantly, even without a quirk.

Looping around cars, Terezi led him into another hallway, barking at some of the other trolls to keep it down during sleeping hours. They passed a few kitchens and supply closets, until winding up at an oak door.

"PL34S3 CLOS3 TH3 DOOR B3FOR3 YOU ST4RT BL33DING."

Deku hoped that she was joking. He took a breath in and opened the door.

An older-looking troll with long, tangled black hair sat in front of him. She wore a faded yellow robe with a sun poorly embroidered on it. Her tired face glowed a soft blue, and it scrunched up in seething hatred once all eight of her eyes saw who—what—he was.

Vriska shot her hand out towards him. Dice spilled out, zapping in the air and glowing brightly. "No dou8les!!!!!!!!!"

Deku pulled his hood on and ducked, narrowly avoiding certain death. "Wait!” Reminded of his conversation from earlier, he decided to lie. “I'm not a Vriska,” he said. "I'm a (Vriska). Completely different."

Vriska motioned for him to sit down. "Let's talk. And close the door 8ehind you."

It had been a few weeks since Deku had joined the underground group. He was sitting with the Terezi and Vriska he had met on the first day, conversing about possible long-term solutions to food shortages. It was difficult because they kept getting distracted and making out instead of getting work done.

“If we were to grow our own food above ground, we’d run the risk of being—er, 8eing tracked-” Deku cut himself off. A nearby Karkat had a knife in his hand. “Did you guys check everyone’s blood? I think that Karkat is about to kill someone.”

They stopped kissing and looked over to where Deku was pointing. Vriska reached into her bag and started rummaging through it. “First of all, not a dude. Second of all, o8viously I checked them all.”

Vriska pulled out a handful of dice and a tube of red chap-stick. Terezi gratefully took the chap-stick, biting into it like a Popsicle. They both stood up.

“WH4T 4R3 YOU DO1NG?” asked Terezi.

The Karkat smiled. “NOTHING.” He proceeded to walk over to a sleeping Sollux and pat him on the head.

“I have a new way to solve our food shortage. Reduce damand.” Vriska flung out her dice towards the red-tinged troll. They flashed and spun, until hitting the ground to reveal the damage count. Because of her luck, it was the maximum possible. Lightning shot out of the die and phased through the Karkat, killing him instantly.

Except, he wasn’t dead. He peeled himself off the pavement and dusted himself off.

Terezi turned towards Deku and Vriska. “OK4Y 1 TH1NK 1V3 FOUND TH3 PROBL3M. K4RK4T H4S MUT4NT BLOOD. TH4T 1S TO S4Y HUM4N BLOOD.”

Karkat nodded, as if to approve the theory. Apparently a blood test doesn't work if the one you're trying to find has freakishly normal human blood.

Vriska facepalmed. “This is so unfair. He never 8ecame a god in the alpha timeline!!!!!!!!”

The floor rumbled softly, and the roof started to crack and splinter. Beams of energy shot through the roof, and a large part of it collapsed. Hundreds of trolls streamed through the hole, carrying weaponry and a thirst for destruction. Homestucks. Did they not realize this conquest would result in the demise of humanity?

Initially filling the area with deafening shouting and pushing, they soon fell silent. A troll in a bright yellow robe floated above them, staring directly at the trio.

“It’s 8eneath me to ask nicely, 8ut please kill each other so that we don’t have to waste time.” She flipped her long black hair as if it were a simple request.

Deku, unsurprisingly, liked being alive. “What happens if we don’t?”

An enthusiastic Nepeta pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

"Calm down. I'll deal with this 8ozo myself." Deku realized that floating above him was Her. The original Vriska.

He was doomed.

Vriska pulled out dice from her pocket and started playing with them in her hand. “I h8 doubles, 8ut I’ll give you one chance at redemption. Prove yourself a real fan and I’ll let you join my army.”

Deku considered his answer carefully. He didn’t have a lot of options. Better to go with something tried and true rather than lose at a Homestuck trivia contest. If it worked once, why not again? "I'm actually the original (Vriska). Don't kill me."

"It seems unlikely. Karkat, test her 8lood."

Okay yeah he was definitely doomed. Why did Vriska have to take basic safety precautions?

Karkat’s knife dripped with the yellow blood of a Sollux, and Deku cringed at the sight. Karkat came close to Deku, and took his arm in one hand. He carefully grazed the knife along Deku’s skin, letting the blood drip out for all to see.

Cerulean blood.

He was safe. But he was (Vriska)... And if he was (Vriska), then who was phone????????

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