#(to clarify: i have no idea what the thing im making should “look like” until i make it)

[semiotomatics]

literally just realized ppl without aphantasia can prolly actually visualize what theyre going to make (draw, paint, sculpt, knit, etc) before/as they make it. wtf.

[placeholdercornerworks]

ok, so, before I do some selective infodumping about my fuckass bastard child, need to clarify a couple things.

Basically Im going for the same "naming convention" as Tennant, in the sense that this guy's codename is simply his surname (which is Albani, technically he's still nameless as of now but shush it is not my primary priority).

I also want to be very clear on the fact that I am a very very casual artist and I haven't drawn Albani in a way I am satisfied and willingly to share with others yet, so until I do, I'm gently going to ask you to take a look at the 1830's fashion wikipedia tab for a reference if you would like to have an idea of how he could likely look like.

One last thing before I get on what I have worked so far, he is partly inspired by the guy below, both in terms of his voicelimes, ideas and thought processes he mentions in his voicelines and to some degree, life circumstances (he is the guy that wrote the "sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle" poem of sonetto's combat line)

V

Now, for what I worked on so far, being exhibition tab and voicelines, all under the cut

To the future: reference to "dialogue between tristan and a friend". The overall point here is that Leopardi (the author), through tristan's words, claims that the achievements of the masses will be favored over the achievements of singular people in this new century.

This has affected Albani, it made him reflect, but ultimately he believes that even if in the grand scheme of things he will be insignificant, there is an inifinite amount of things he can do for making his or the life of people around him better.

Chitchat I: reference to "dialogue between nature and an icelander". For "the world", he does not mean the people living in it, but rather the actual unanimate entity of world he's living in.

The overall point is "nature literally created us when we didn't even agree to that, least it can do is treat us somewhat decently bruh D:"

Chitchat II: backstory relevant reference to "chant of an asian pilgrim shepherd?"

Basically, in the original work, the shepherd talks to the moon, believing it shares the same plight as common men, but later he realizes that the moon is immortal, fundamentally different and indifferent to the suffering of men.

The idea at hand here is that I plan to give Albani a buddy, (he's not dead btw, they parted on good terms due to greater circumstances) and the buddy is meant to symbolize the moon, but as the moon he does care about him, so even if they are separated Albani still seeks his (symbolical) comfort and/or knowledge in times of need because he knows the moon will listen to him.

Monologue is cross reference between tristan and asian shepherd, the overall point is "in spite of our shitty condition, we should strive to help each other to soothe the pain such condition gives us"

[buck-yyyy]

hey!!!! before i begin you should know that im 15 and not a weird old man asking about you. how did you know that you were asexual and not just deeply repressed? im sort of struggling with that because i don't hate the idea of sex and stuff, but i just don't understand the appeal or feel the attraction. am i still allowed to call myself ace? thank you for any advice!!!

hi anon!! first of all, thank your for clarifying, because i’ve had enough weird anons to last me a lifetime lmfao—

and, uh—there’s not a great way to say this, but i didn’t fully realize that i was asexual until i literally had to. meaning this is probably hella personal for the internet, but:

i’ve always kinda been uncomfortable with the concept of sex when it actually meant something. references in a joke, or in a tv show, or in a book or whatever—don’t care, doesn’t matter. but as soon as it got real, like when my friends would talk about it or whatever, i’d be so beyond uncomfortable. and then it got real real. like, personal real. and that was when i decided that okay, actually, this is something that i need to think about—because for a long time, i assumed that was just because i felt left out because i wasn’t dating anyone like my friends or something, UNTIL the idea of sex became something that i actually had to think about and consider in relation to my own personal relationships—which is pretty much when i realized oh, fuck no, no thank you very much.

some people who are asexual are sex repulsed, meaning that they don’t ever want to have sex and the thought itself is completely unappealing. some are sex neutral, meaning they’re indifferent to it, and may be open to it if their partner is interested. others are sex positive, and actively enjoy and want to have sex. all three are asexual, to be clear! they’re just different experiences. but that might be a good thing to look into if you’re wondering where you may fall on the spectrum, if you feel that you’re on it at all.

all in all, i’m really terrible with advice; but i think that the best way to go about it is by overall learning about yourself broadly, not just by focusing in on the possibility of being asexual. i’m not going to pretend that i’m in a good place with my own sexuality, because to be completely honest, i’m not, but i think that to focus on who you are as a person and how your relationships and possibly sexuality may factor into that is a much healthier way of going about it than what i did—which was shut it out and pretend it wasn’t real until it hit me in the face that it WAS real and there wasn’t any avoiding it.

(ps. you can absolutely call yourself ace if you’d like. labels are malleable, make of them what you’d like <3)

i hope this helped at least a little bit, and i wish you the best of luck nonnie—figuring yourself out takes time and effort, but i promise you’ll get there :)

[bnuuyinastinksuit]

the state of youtube and the world

so, bunny here back with yet another serious topic, this time extremely serious. we all know that nudity isn't really something you actively show to minors, while the world can't agree on the age, it's usually late teens, but if you were to look at youtube, it almost seems as if people are tying to change the age, i have seen so many videos that are almost pornographic and the titles are "14+ 16+ 15+" it almost seems as though slowly animators on youtube are trying to lower the age that you should be allowed to look at pornographic material, to their age

an example would be this video, while yes it's not borderline pornographic,a nd im not saying it is, but the problem is its actively focusing on womens chest and sexualizing them and targetting 14 year olds and above, i have no idea how old this youtuber is, but the fact is that they are trying to show sexualized imagery to 14 year olds, while yes a lot already see this shit, i should know as i was first introduced to porn when, i think, i was 12, but it doesn't mean we should be actively making it normalized, exposure to pornographic material from a young age can ruin a person.

to explain how it can ruin a person just look at me, introduced to porn at the age of 12 and became obsessed with it, found an app i could roleplay on and became more obssesed with porn, every day i would masturbate until i was sore, most of my days were dedicated to just me masturbating to porn, but that isn't healthy, it was an obssesion, and it only really started getting better because i moved to discord, not because i got sick of the app, no, but because there were rumors of it slowly being deleted, so i left, i still have an account on it but i mainly use discord, and cut to today where im a survivor of the bambi sleep hypnosis series, survivor of porn addiction, i don't roleplay much and when i do i usually end up running out of energy after one orgasm, i still masturbate a lot but i don't actively seek it, not like i used to, if it wasn't for the rumors, i would be homeless by now, no doubt.

now yes, not everyone will turn out how i did, but it's a good chance, i found so many people on the app who were minors who were almost exactly like me, obssesed with porn, in moderation sexualized material is fine for minors, im not saying we should go out of our way to stop them from accessing it, but im also not saying we should go out of our way to help them access it without repurcussions, the way the world was when i got addicted to porn was already bad enough, i had to hide it from everyone i knew irl and i never went out, never developed social skills, but imagine how much worse it would be if every child was addicted to porn.

to finish this off, im just going to say what i think we should do, personally i think we should report anything that we find that is suggestive/sexual and also rated for minors, if it's not suggestive or sexual, but rated for minors, don't do anything about it, if it's suggestive or sexual but not rated for minors and instead rated for late teens such as 18+ 17+ at the least, just do what you normally do with porn, if it's suggestive or sexual and isn't rated, just leave a comment saying they should put an age rating to clarify that it's for people over 18.

for now, bunny out, sorry for not posting much im really not good at mainting schedules, i mean, on my tiktok i have like, maybe 50 videos? and i've been wanting to keep it active, but i just can't, same things happening here, i want to keep this blog active, i jsut can't, made worse by the fact i don't know what to talk about. bunny out!

ps. don't be an asshole, i get that this person in the example is saying that 14+ should be shown suggestive content, but don't spread hate, it's just not what you should do.

[the-ghost-in-my-dreams]

The Van

I know now that the harder I try the easier it is to push back. Im going to take a different approach. There is a park in Yucaipa, CA that I visited during covid with a friend. It was nice, a lot of hiking trails and wildlife. And mostly empty as you can imagine. And to be honest it makes a great place to have sex without being disturbed by others. I'm sure I'm not the only one to arrive at that idea. Let's say every entry I have posted and put out as evidence that points to a crime organization is a fantasy that somehow I came up with even though I have no experience in such lifestyle. I am a nerd, a geek, a gamer. I like computers and consoles. I barely leave the house. My favorite games are Overwatch and Dead by Daylight. My skin burns when I go outside in a second. Im afraid of everything. I shake like a bee and sting when I cry. I cry a lot. I am anti social and I love watching movies that put me to sleep. My life was destroyed so I have nothing to gain or lose from this endeavor. If I didn't have to do this I wouldn't be doing this. I just don't like being bullied and told I'm a liar when I am telling the truth. I went to jail basically because I didn't defend myself and I didn't have anyone to defend me. I like being a loner because I like being independent. If I wanted to make up a story I would and you bet its not going to be about this BS that is going on because why? As a matter of fact I just wanted to write down what happened to me up until December of last year. But things like people throwing bottles at my house in the middle of the night started happening. I didn't think of it as serious because the bottles never hit anything besides the ground. I pretty much knew who was behind it because only a weak gay male would be too scared to actually hit a target. After about the third time this happened I began to plan a defense. I put up a security system for example. After which I then saw what was happening when I wasn't looking. Around that time I discovered Raymond's secret past. So I felt like there was another world I didn't see because I was comfortable in my own. And this is how we get to today. Like this picture that was posted on Sniffies that shows a van at the park I once visited. Now like I said before its probably a fantasy and there is no van at all which I have already outlined and described as the instrument that is used for sex. Of course they didn't take a picture of it and post it to advertise to others that the park was the spot to go to. Why would they take a picture of the woods or trails or maybe a dark bushy area suitable to mate. Im being sarcastic by the way. I waited to post this because honestly I don't care anymore. I am going to push until I get a response that will hopefully push them to act with violence towards me. I'm doing it for my own sanity and they just disgust me. I think HIV is pretty much everywhere now, there is no safe sex and there is a group of perverts growing that actually advertise they are perverts and look for that content and share it amongst themselves. And I'm not scared to do it alone. I'm not scared of a bunch of homosexuals that dick each other and whimper for it.

So there it is and I don't even think its the actual park even though its posted on the parks profile. I remember it as mostly dirt and a few benches scattered around. For example in my town this happens as well. They put a label on a house as a park. I flag it every time to get it removed just to be a dick. Its a whore house. There a lot of these houses. Too many to list. This is the reality whether you believe it or not. ** To clarify here since the blog reads from the top down to people. When I say whore house, I should actually say it can be more than that such as a drug house, meeting house, , brothel, etc. I just dont know what is inside because I have never been in one. All I have is an address someone I was suppose to meet gave me. I never went because it became a decoy. So I generally call them all a whore house. The guy that messaged the decoy was at a totally different area than the address.

[edgybutnotveryedgy]

Im thinking about miraculous future stuff based on some lore and cultural inspirations (because i don't want to think about finals rn), and something that i don't think will happen, but would be interesting if it did happen is if Felix were to be snapped out of existence.

I think if this were to happen then it would probably just be temporary, but considering his arc and everything, there could be some interesting ideas in this. Like take his miraculous. It is the peacock miraculous, and it creates life. This in and of itself is heavily loaded when you look into potential irl cultural inspirations.

Warning i am not including any citation in this, but i will be making a series this summer exploring in depth the different cultural influences in miraculous and how they may or may not pertain to the story. I'll be more thorough there.

So first something i just found on a site is that supposedly in roman times peacocks were an important symbol representative of death, funerals, and resurrection in particular. Supposedly early christians decorated their tombs with a lot of peacock iconography because of this association.

I wouldn't be surprised if this association with peacocks and death/resurrection had some connection to the story of Hera and Argos, when Hera took the eyes of Argos and put them in the tails of peacocks feathers/she brought him back as a peacock. In some european cultures it seems there was an association between peacocks and bad luck and death (i need to look more into this) then of course there's the obvious association between price lucifer and peacocks that i feel like most people (in the west at least) are aware of.

So in India there is an association between a mythical bird called Garuda, who Vishnu would ride. Peacocks were made from the feathers of Garuda (i don't know, sounds kinda familiar to me). Peacocks by association with Garuda seem to be representative of time, and preserving and maintaining balance in the cosmos. Specifically due to how they eat poisonous snakes, which snakes are symbolic of cyclical time.

Next up in China, this is where things get really interesting. It is associated with a goddess named Guan Yin, and transmutes evil into beauty. Also a peacock is the manifestation of the Phoenix. So let's talk about phoenix's for a second. So a Phoenix represents things like virtue, duty, humanity, strength, good fortune, etc. Also phoenix's generally show up if an empire was good, or as a premonition of the rise of empires.

So i should clarify, this Phoenix (also known as a Fenghuang) isn't exactly the same as the western phoenix, which i was not aware of until now, but we're in too deep to go back baby lets gooooooooooo

So the western phoenix does go through a cycle of death and rebirth, but the Fenghuang is just immortal and doesn't die. So... Yea... I'm still gonna post this because its finals week and i have virtually no quality filter rn. I just might not tag it.

So i was gonna say that Felix would pull a Phoenix and just like will himself back to life or something, which could be interesting considering his whole arc of having no control of his life or whether or not he lives or dies, but i guess this is all being thrown out the window!

This is what i get for researching things. I am proven wrong in the middle of writing an epic post, and then I have to admit I'm wrong.

Oh well. I'll have more fun dissecting the lore later anyway.

[trashcanfills]

Hear me out okay hear me out

Reader being in a poly relationship with Lucio and Junkrat🥰🥰

Ok first of I shall apologise to you anon because I was heavily procrastinating on this. I mean, I know junkrat and lucio but I didnt fully know how the two would interact, much less in a romantic manner. I legit had to look up boombox fan content for this. It’s a cute ship I must say.

Tbh I previously managed to actually write a good chunk of stuff out for this prompt of the three being poly (at least not the one where the two dudes are “sharing” the reader, nahh everyone gets the lovin) EXCEPT IT DIDNT SAVE WHEN I LAST CAME BACK TO EDIT AND POST IT.

Yea that got me shudhekakdjw fucking crying i swear and I just procrastinated on answering the ask for a bit longer. But im back and god I should actually release it from my inbox.

Here. Fly. Be free now.

Being in a poly relationship with Lucio and Junkrat

First of all, dear god the chaos.

Bruh you have Jamison from the lawless radioactive wasteland that is Australia and Lucio the freedom fighter dj. Being in a poly relationship with this two dudes will never be boring with the amt of shit you get into (which most of the time it’s Jamison’s fault oof)

I can see Lucio and Jamison being rather physically affectionate with you and each other, so I do hope you are someone who doesn’t mind all that. If you do, its ok cus Lucio understands all that personal space jeez, aand will do his best to explain and help Jamison understand cus Jamison is a bit more uhhhhh intrusive lmao

Group cuddle sessions are a thing and participation is made mandatory, the latter being a rule that was first made up to keep Junkrat out of his workshop to tinker stuff, but now it’s used for any time one of you gets too into work or need comfort of some sort.

They both are incredibly energetic and fun people to be with too! Thankfully you and Lucio can contain a bit of Jamison’s manic and destructive energy (and maybe teach him more abt what the rest of the world is like and morals). If you tired of socialising, they will def be chill in just hanging out in the same room, though Jamison needs some explanation and time to understand that first since hes not so people smart.

Fun activities would include gaming, workshop binges (Jamison makes shit while Lucio and you join in or add more dumb whacky ideas), MUSIC LISTENING PARTIES like Lucio is a DJ he wants to show yall all these cool artists and know yall tastes ok

Lucio makes a curated playlist for you amd Jamison. Aaaaand maybe a upcoming new album inspired by the two of you shhhhh its a surprise. And Jamison loves creating new trinkets for you and Lucio! He made a smol metal wire sculpture with a rat, frog and another animal representing you. Its considered a treasured possession that you can Lucio took turns to keep it in your rooms lmao, until Jamison made another one :3

Honestly you three prob got a lot of questioning looks when you all came out as a polyamory couple. Mostly cus of Jamison reputation as a crazed maniac and wanted criminal ngl but when everyone in overwatch sees the three of you hanging out, its really sweet.

I say some issues u guys would have would be first and foremost, Jamison’s questionable morality and lack of understanding of many things. He did kill people yes, but to him it was his way of life from the nuclear wasteland that is his home. It has taken a number of therapy sessions (as required for a reformatory programme Jamison is enrolled in because how else will he be in overwatch bruh), but hey hes getting better i suppose. Be patient with Jamison at times alright? Because he’s still figuring out all these new things and reframing in his worldview.

Another issue for sure would prob be Lucio’s tendency to be stubborn on some things. Haha u didnt think i was gonna say that huh.

To clarify, he’s someone passionate on various causes, and because he is such a nice and caring person pushing to gain support for other’s welfare, Lucio doesn’t fully grasp the consequences of his actions at times. It’s like…he’s naive or a bit simple-minded. Not unintentionally or fully dumb, more like he gets into this helping ppl mindset so much he forgets other things to consider. Like how he faces the Vishkar conflict. It’s a huge sore spot for him, and it’s a big reason why he doesn’t like Symmetra that much because he assumes that she is bad and aware of her corporation’s questionable deeds, which is not completely true. Its also personal for him because it was his hometown that was being affected, and because of that Lucio had to do something to save it. All these feelings mean that Lucio gets blinded by them at times, esp when its got to do sth that he’s passionate abt. Its good to fight for the things you love, but sometimes fighting is not always the solution and can make things worse. And he forgets that sometimes when he rants to u guys abt dealing with some obstinate person doing questionable things.

There will be times he sticks to his moral values and stand by them, without realising that he needs to open his kindness and empathy to those who seem to be the most unworthy of it. In fact, its thanks to being with you and Jamison and over time that Lucio realises this fact.

Holy sheet whew Im done. Yea I did elaborate a lot for Lucio’s issue because I wasn’t too sure how to put it fully into words. So pardon the word vomit lol im not sure if ppl get what I mean so uhh rip. Sorry. You can clarify with me if u wan to ask abt how I characterise Lucio hahaha.

[lovewiredz]

haha buddy simulator 1984 but the ai is self aware like that funny series ^_^ this idea kept me up all night uh...dont check under cut if u know nothing abt buddy sim. full of spoilers and way too long

grabs your shoulders and shakes you Violently. ok. so

when "choosing a name for his buddy" gordon looked around his room and was like "whats the most thats-not-a-name name you can make" and just combined barbie+ken cuz some dolls joshua left in his room. if u combine their names long enough u get to benrey i swear.

gordons favorite animals is dogs and he named it sunkist cuz he looked around his desk for name inspo. he is very uncreative.

gordons "true end" in this universe is the bad end ^_^ you could also argue the neutral end would work, maybe he fucked around but grew too attached and stopped fucking around when he realized it was self aware, but that's boring and cringe lol /j

pstt....if ur reading this and you dont know abt buddy sim i feel like i should clarify the bad end is basically where youre a complete asshole! basically your buddy thinks you dont care about them or their friendship or the games they spent so long making for you and get angered and scared that they cant fulfil their purpose, it leads to a chase scene until you interact with another glitch that kills+resets your in-game computer. ^_^ if u cant tell i really like this game.....also stop reading this if u dont know abt buddy sim go play it wtf

gordons ghost cloth thing was inspired by a cool skirt i have. it shifted into a halloween costume the more i got past the sketch though

the first mayor (Tortley) is coomer. there is no need for elaboration but i will say its because i think the mayor yelling "HELP ME GORDON" while getting taken away by the snoodlewonker is funny as hell.. also cuz of the glitch stuff.

...second mayor is bubby. i forgot everything about the second mayor but it feels like an obligation so they are matching. hashtag old people goals, playing bingo with the snoodlewonker (aka old "person" number 3, g-man)

Groncho (aka the dude who was accused of being The Snoodlewonker) is tommy ........ just slightly change the tone of some of the dialogue and i feel like it fits him .

Listen. Joey is Forzon. the u.s. military is represented by sewer rats

also benrey is the only thing that isnt orange or warm toned in some way lmao

IM NOT GOOD AT PUTTING MY Thoughts INto words i hope that all makes sense. i havent slept and its 7 am but you dont understand how important this was for me to write, draw, and post. im not proofreading over everything i wrote. not again. ok goodnight

[griffsursparker]

re: traditional publishing

someone asked me to tell them what I knew about traditional publishing, and I decided it was way too much to put in their ask box, so I guess I'm making a post lmao

fair warning, I have spent so long in publishing circles that I no longer have any concept of what normal levels of knowledge about publishing are. if something doesn't make sense because I left out something thinking it was common knowledge, just ask and I can clarify! if I explain something really obvious, I'm not trying to be condescending, I just genuinely have literally no concept what is or isn't obvious anymore. im sorta just trying to cover some basics here so they may be too basic I have no idea hgdsghds

also disclaimer: publishing industries are generally fairlyyyy similar world-wide I think, but idk where you live/if you write in english, so if you're writing in a different language your mileage may vary with these a bit more (because like . . . I pay attention to all the publishing stuff I possibly can, but if conversations about certain aspects are happening in a language I can't speak, I'm going to miss them lmao)(but I think the general gist will still hold true)

I apologize if this is an information overload hgsdghds I am a nerd about this stuff and this is me trying to,,, hold back lmao

anyways because this seems like the easiest way to cover the basics, here is, to my understanding, a basic publishing timeline for trad pub:

first, of course, you get the book as good as you can make it yourself

next up, generally speaking you want to try to get a literary agent. there are occasional opportunities to submit to publishers directly, but they're going to take you more seriously if you have an agent (agents are also great because they'll help you advocate for yourself in contracts!)

to get an agent, you generally have to submit some combination of the following—it should say on their website which ones:

-- a query letter (think of this as similar to what you'd read on the back of a book)

-- a synopsis (a longer description, covering the whole plot)(a query letter will be focused on hooking attention; a synopsis is about proving you follow through on it)

-- the first ten pages/three chapters/etc. again, it should say

if an agent likes your query materials, they'll reach out and ask you for the rest of your manuscript, or in publishing lingo, you'll get a "full request"

if you get a full request, you'll send your manuscript over, and generally get one of three answers. (1) a rejection. (2) a request to revise and resubmit. or (3) an offer

#1, an unfortunate part of publishing is there are generally a lot of rejections. they hurt, but it's not personal—it might not be the right genre/style/etc for the person you submitted to, or maybe they just don't have time for a new project right now, or any number of reasons. they suck, but they're pretty much unavoidable. every single author you look up to has gotten them

#2, an R&R is generally a good thing, although if you don't like their feedback, you don't have to take them up on it. basically, it means they like your book a lot, but they're not ready to commit to it until you make some changes. sometimes, this means they aren't the right fit for you, but a lot of the time they'll have really good feedback, and it means they're genuinely seriously considering signing with you

#3, an offer, is of course the end goal, so we're going to carry on from here

if you get an offer, the first thing you're generally going to do is nudge any other agents who have your full manuscript. generally you'll have about ten days to two weeks to decide whether you want to accept the offer, so you want to let the other agents know that they're about to lose their chance to sign you—they're going to move looking at your book higher on their to-do list, and you may very well get more offers

so you have an offer (or offers! but even just one is enough and something to be hugely proud of). now you have to decide if the agent is the right fit for you/which agent is the best fit if you have multiple offers. one thing to note is you never have to sign with someone even if they're your only offer. if you talk to them, and realize you aren't going to work well with this person, it's okay to say no and keep querying other agents instead

once you have an agent, they might have edits for you. depends on the agent. if so, you'll do a round of edits here

next, the agent will submit to publishers for you. how involved you are in this process will depend on the agent (and also on you)

this process, or "going on sub", generally means a lot of waiting. it's slow. everything in this industry is slow. it sort of sucks, but the best thing to do is just . . . write something else. do your best not to worry about it. there ultimately isn't much you can do here—you sort of just have to wait and hope a publisher bites

I don't actually know much about the process of signing with a publisher, so I won't try to speak to it too much, but I do know bits and pieces about standard contracts and stuff if that interests you

once you've signed with a publisher, the next big step is going to be more edits

a lot of edits, actually

to my understanding you're going to do at least one round of structural edits (plot, character, etc. big picture stuff), at least one round of line edits (smaller stuff, tone, voice, etc), and at least one round of copy edits (grammar, etc). generally it'll be more than just three rounds though

it's up to you what edits you accept, but you are going to have to make a lot of edits if you want to pursue traditional publishing

then comes pass pages (proofreading proofreading proofreading!!)

and somewhere in there, likely before at least one round of pass pages, ARCs are generally going to come out!

ARCs are advanced readers copies, and they're a marketing thing. depending on the book, you might get a lot of ARCs, or you might just get some digital ones on NetGalley. this is the first time people in the general public will actually get to read your book (for the sake of reviewing it)

then: release day!

a few other things to note:

titles and covers:

if you want control over these . . . don't trad pub. you'll get some say, but at the end of the day, they're a marketing decision, so especially if you're a smaller author, you don't get ultimate say over these

payment:

first of all, you never ever pay a traditional publisher anything as an author. same goes for an agent. if they ask you to pay them, they're a scammer

an agent gets paid when you get paid. I'm unsure on the exact percentage, but they take a cut of what you get paid (I know, it doesn't sound great to give up some of your hard-earned money, but they're worth it, trust me)

a publisher pays you

most authors only ever see their advance, so this is a big one. when you sign with the publisher, they'll offer you xyz amount of money. this is your advance. you get this, no matter how many copies of your book sell

an advance is generally paid in instalments—how many depends on the publisher, but usually 2–5. one upon signing, and then generally the later ones will be upon turning in a revised book, upon publication, and then sometimes a year after publication, etc

then comes royalties. but an advance is essentially their estimate of how much you'll earn in royalties—it's them paying you royalties in advance. they cannot take this away if you don't earn that much in royalties, but you won't see any actual royalties until you "earn out", aka until your book sells enough copies to make up the advance

this is still all very simplified, but it's way too long already, so I'll leave it here lmaoooo

if you're considering trad pub vs self pub, the big things to keep in mind are how much control you want vs how much work you want to do. the publisher does a lot of the hard shit for you, but they do also have a lot of control over certain things. if you want your book published exactly the way you want it, self pub might be a better fit, and that's okay!

also: time. I know people who have self pubbed sheerly because they didn't want to wait years for their book to come out, and that is an entirely valid reason to do it. trad pub is slow as shit

@hahaha-darn-it (I know you're the only one who'll read this, but for the record didn't write this like,,, solely to you in terms of how I wrote it, so most of my stuff in here is general not like. aimed specifically and pointedly at you or anything lmaooo)

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

-

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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[fruggo]

Hi hi can I req Danny, Leon and Steve with a male s/o who's a real goofy guy? Cracks jokes during chases, just can't take things too seriously, laid back and chill guy who prioritizes having fun

absolutely, thanks for requesting!! :D this is cute haha. i hope you like it!

danny, leon, and steve with goofy m!s/o

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny would consider himself a pretty fun guy, though perhaps his idea of fun would not be the same as a normal person's. so i wouldn't take his word for it if i were you.

honestly? he thinks you're the shit. he genuinely likes your bad dad jokes great puns, will banter back and forth with you, and he might even give you the hatch instead of a mori. although he would love to have your picture, it can wait until the next trial. or the next if he still doesn't feel like it. who knows?

he likes that you're not too serious about everything. since danny is the entity's golden boy, he never has to worry about anything! he likes it here! and it's cool that someone else has a similar mindset about things. although he might have misunderstood "making the best of the situation and just being a goofy person" for "liking it here". you never really clarified which one it was, and why should he ask?

when danny finds out that you act basically the same way with all the killers, cracking jokes and laughing things off in chases, he gets all pouty. he thought he was special. well, looks like you're getting that mori now.

he still likes you though, and he gives you even more special attention now in the form of tunneling and camping! he means well <3 (no he doesn't he is a little bitch and a loser)

but then he hears stories from the other killers about you, and is pleased to find that you are significantly more fun with him, and, dare i say, flirty!

but he still wants to tunnel and camp you.

when you realize what he's doing, you don't get mad about it. what's the point? in fact you think it's really funny.

the first time danny proximity-camped you, you found it rewarding to just talk and talk and talk until he finally talked back. it took a while, but he did finally respond.

you would just say dumb shit, and then you would say more dumb shit, and then it got annoying and danny had to tell you to shut up. and then you would just dramatically whisper something like "okay, pissbaby."

and danny thought maybe he should be angry with you, but he just wasn't. he couldn't be mad at you, because even if he was, you wouldn't care. you weren't scared of him.

so when he finally left and you got unhooked, he tunneled you obviously. it makes sense, okay?

"wow, am i that handsome and gorgeous and attractive?" you monologued while smashing a pallet onto danny's head. "i'm really just so irresistible that you want to tunnel me? honestly, danny, i'm flattered. i'm touched."

danny couldn't remember since when you were on a first name basis, but he let it slide. just because maybe he thinks you are that handsome and gorgeous and attractive.

dude danny is kinda fucked up but like. he's funny. and charming. and he also let you take off his mask once, and so now you know he's also hot. he has a few things going for him as long as you ignore the part where he chases you with a knife.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon, our favorite rookie :D he's so cute!!! sorry im gushing i just cant resist i love him !!

and you love him too, so much. that's why you accidentally distract him during trials by goofing off and almost getting him killed

it's out of love. leon knows that. you don't really mean to.

while leon's doing a generator, you are probably somewhere nearby trying to find something even remotely interesting to do. and that might involve climbing a tree, then falling out of the tree. but it wasnt your fault! you swore the crows were attacking you, they didn't want you up in that tree because they knew you were just so cool up there and the Entity couldn't have somebody being better and hotter and funnier than itself so high in the sky.

leon could only smile and shake his head, inspecting you for the wounds you inevitably had. when you said you were fine, he was very skeptical, because your version of fine was never the same as his.

the killer knew where you were now because of your very loud "FUCK!" as the crows supposedly attacked you and forced you out of the tree, so you immediately put on your game face and got ready to command some attention.

leon said no, you were not in the right headspace to get chased. you only shrugged at him, slapped his ass, and ran towards the killer yelling, "HEY YOU WANNA HEAR AN AGGIE JOKE?"

leon was used to this by now, and he found it rather endearing. you were an enigma to him, really. how you could be so laid back about this whole murder-die-sacrifice thing was beyond him, but it was refreshing. he liked your enthusiasm.

since he had just come from raccoon city, he was still in his "i have to do the right thing and save everybody because it's my duty" kind of mood. you made sure to lighten up that burden and remind him that it's okay to chill sometimes, and he can't save everybody, especially not here. if you were in a particularly bad trial, you always made sure to get him to crack a smile.

likewise, leon wasn't always too jazzed about your "funny guy gets killed so the team can live" complex. he knew you didn't care, or at least you said you didn't, but he still hated that you constantly sacrificed yourself and acted like it was no big deal. to him, it was. he hated going back to the campfire alone and waiting forever for you to show up again; he cared about you and it hurt to see you sacrifice yourself so much even if he knew you would return.

leon didn't have a stick up his ass or anything--he had his fair share of humorous moments (i mean have you seen infinite darkness ashdjshdf that man just wants love and food). he just wants to save everybody, you included. it's frustrating to come to terms with the fact that he can't.

he loves it when he can hear you yelling at the killer mid-chase from afar, be it a pun or a swear or both. you've even influenced him to crack his own jokes while being chased sometimes--it comes out more often if he's being tunneled. if you ever happened to see him do it, you would wipe a fake tear from your face and start clapping. you were very proud of your rookie.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

the killers hated you and steve, and i mean like despised you

you were so chill. and for what???? why do you have chill???? nobody else has chill, what makes you think you deserve to have chill????

they could never make you angry and that made them super angry

you and steve would quip back and forth between chases, sometimes going so far as to pretend the killer is not there and talk about something like what kind of cheese you missed eating the most. let me tell you, that did not make the trickster happy.

he was a star!! a star, and here you two little shits were, ignoring him to talk about cheese. honestly, the audacity.

you and steve ran to the killer shack with the trickster on your heels, still talking about cheese. how the conversation had gone on this long was a mystery, and it continued to be a mystery while the two of you shared a chase in the shack.

steve was very happy to have found someone to share his sentiments with. everybody was so serious all the time, and while he was similar to leon with his altruistic streaks, he was slightly less responsible and occasionally enjoyed doing dumb stunts just for shits and giggles.

you can bet that whenever you are in a trial together, it's a competition to see who can hold the killer's attention longer. your teammates don't mind--all they have to do is complete gens, so their job is fairly easy. and it's always entertaining to catch sight of one of you sprinting with a new flashlight in your hand to go annoy the crap out of the killer.

there's no question that steve would die for you a hundred times over, and you would do the same for him. you didn't see it as a very big deal--you didn't see anything here as a very big deal. steve was the only important thing you had, really, and you cared for him a lot. saving him? kapeesh. no sweat.

scenario: steve is being chased, you throw yourself in front of him, the killer has noed, you are hooked, you give him a thumbs up as you die, he flips you off because why the fuck would you die for him what is wrong with you he's supposed to die for you and you know that?? why would you do that???? great, now steve gets to escape and it's all your fault.

you would simply smile. he was so cute sometimes.

[versadies]

Hello! Can i request a prompt “a flower that is used to represent friendship and express well-wishes to someone.” : when you became friends with the other with Scaramouche?

the vigilante and the harbinger (drabble)

penpal: sorry for the long wait! this prompt is honestly one of my favorites :>>

prompt: seven || fluff, when you became friends with the other.

pairing/s: scaramouche x gn!reader

sypnosis: out of all the things you expected when trying to escape from snezhnaya, you certainly didn't expect to end up being stuck with a harbinger.

note: scaramouche being a support is NOT CANON. there are no news of his role nor any news of him being playable at the moment so im only making him a support here for plot purposes.

"let's have a truce." scaramouche declares, causing you to look at him with your eyes widening. did you hear that right?

first; you got yourself stuck in a cave with your sworn enemy and now he's saying something that you never thought would happen in a lifetime? you wouldn't be surprised if this was all just a weird dream.

"...did the snow hit your head that badly?" you asked with a frown.

he rolled his eyes. "no you idiot," he adjusts his hat for a moment before leaning against the cold wall behind him. "i'm saying that you and i should help each other out while finding our way outta here."

"...why? can't you just call your minions over here and help us out?"

"if that were the case, i would've been out of here immediately."

"oh so you were trying to escape without me."

scaramouche furrowed his eyebrows, now irritated with your retorts. "that was the plan back then before i realized how doomed we are in this stupid cave. my subordinates who followed me went back to the palace and knew that i'm stuck here."

you hum in response, looking around your surroundings in boredom. "guess the fatui isn't loyal for you harbingers."

"i'm pretty sure it's just me. i'm an unlikeable person after all." he says with a proud look plastered on his face.

all of you harbingers are unlikeable, you thought to yourself.

"and you're proud of that?" you asked.

"well, people have to take me seriously. those idiots have no idea who they're dealing with sometimes." scaramouche says with a sigh. "why did you try to escape from snezhnaya anyway? other than you being a vigilante of course."

you couldn't help but feel taken back by surprise from how calm the man is unlike before. is he slowly going insane?

this has to be another trick from him.

"why do you want to have a truce with me, anyway?" you questioned, changing the topic.

scaramouche scoffs. "you still don't realize how much you and i need each other?"

"wh-what?!"

"NOT LIKE THAT!" he yelled. "don't you realize how your vision and mine are compatible?" he then points your pyro vision. "your pyro vision can be our source of heat while my healing can help our injuries."

"i think it's just you who has an inj- OW!" you yelp in pain when scaramouche suddenly slaps your arm. "hey what was that for?!" you exclaimed.

"when will you actually stop saying it's just me? look at your arm, it's bleeding." he points out.

you look down at your arm, now realizing that scaramouche wasn't joking. how did you not notice it before?

before you could do anything to stop the bleeding, he stops you. "i think it's better if i'm the-"

"i didn't accept the truce yet." you clarified, putting your arm away from his grasp. "besides, why should i trust you?"

"i don't trust you either, but you'll need your arm to be healed. how can you fight us with that huh?" he replied.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "you're still going to fight me-"

"this truce is only temporary," scaramouche interrupts. "the truce will end when you and i are out of here. until then, we can put our... disagreements aside for now and not try to kill each other."

he reaches his hand out to you. "do you accept?"

you hesitated for a moment. what if this was just an opportunity for him to kill you the moment you put your guard down?

screw it, it won't hurt to accept. you can just kill him when he tries to kill you back.

"i'll accept, under one condition;" he raised an eyebrow at your proposal, cueing you to continue.

"don't take me back to the palace the moment you and i get out of here."

"as i suspected," scaramouche hums before nodding in approval. "alright then, it's a deal."

the both of you then shook hands, not knowing the future that awaits for the both of you.

.

.

.

.

extra:

"now go start the fire with your vision while i heal you." he demanded, causing you to roll your eyes at his sudden change of mood.

"go freeze to death." you mumbled.

he glares at you before you raise your arms up in surrender. "issa joke, buddy." you clarified with a small smile.

"don't call me buddy, idiot."

"only if you stop calling me an idiot, buddy."

[kimnjss]

capital h | pjm + jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader x jimin ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationship | threesome.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight nipple play, oral (f/m receiving), threesome, semi-public fingering, humiliation kink(?), slight dom!jimin, slight switch!jungkook, slight sub!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, unsafe sex (wrap it up, loves!). a hint of jikook at the end. ⇢ summary: after learning of the activities your boyfriend and his best friend use to partake in, you can’t help but what to be apart of them. everyone always says, two is better than one, right? ⇢ A/N: this has been in my drafts for about three months, lmao. finally, i finished it and posted it! im lowkey excited because this was a lot of fun to write, and i’ve never written anything like it so! alright, yeah... let me know what you think x.

Your damp locks laid sprawled against your boyfriend's muscular thigh. Warm fingers twisting the wet curls between his fingers. Movements slowed due to the toe-curling, orgasm-inducing, mind-blowing tub sex you just shared. The last thing you had wanted was to get out and brave the cold air, but laying here, wrapped in his sheet with nothing underneath, you didn't want to be anywhere else.

 Being in Jimin's arms was a rare occurrence these days, moments like this becoming cherished treasures that you looked forward to. Excitement was the easy way to describe how you felt when he and his six best friends were pulling up in front of your house, inviting you to spend their day off with them.

 Of course, it was all Jimin's doing, you wouldn't have met any of those guys if it wasn't for your chance meeting with the handsome dancer. They liked you enough, though. Each showed you that they accept your relationship in their own way.

 Seokjin, the oldest, had become something of a big brother to you; oftentimes taking your side on the rare occasion that you and Jimin argued. Never failed to give you insightful advice after the fact. Yoongi didn't really pay you any mind, but he thought you were cute and often times found himself cooing at you. You were closest to Hobi and Joon, becoming fast friends due to your like personalities and sense of humor. They thought you were hilarious, Jimin didn't see it.

 As for the two youngest... despite you dating his best friend, Taehyung didn't really show much interest in you, neither did Jungkook. Yet, Taehyung did put in the effort to make conversation and make you feel included, unlike the youngest male. You had been convinced that he didn't like you, until a few weeks ago when his blatant staring began.

 He'd be quick to look away whenever he knew he was caught, but he wasn't that sneaky. You never missed the cocky grin he'd try to hide or the knowing look he'd shoot in Taehyung's direction. There was definitely something up and it definitely involved you.

 “What do you think of Jungkook?” The question was falling from your lips and you had your never-ending thoughts and overthinking to blame. 

 Jimin let out a snort of a laugh. “Jungkook? My best friend, and teammate? The guy that's been like a brother to me for the past 7 years? I guess he's alright,” Sarcasm dripped from his words and you rolled your eyes, lifting your head from his lap.

 Your hand met his shoulder, gently pushing him back against the headboard. “I'm being serious. What do you think?”

 “So am I. He's like a brother to me, why?” He found this sudden interest in the maknae odd...? Especially for you. It was obvious that the two of you didn't really socialize, so why were you asking about him all of a sudden? “What do you think of him?” Jimin prompted when your answer didn't come fast enough.

 Taking a moment, you debated whether or not you should even bring this up. As he said, Jungkook was like a brother to him... what if calling out his weird behavior ended up rubbing Jimin in the wrong way and now you were without a boyfriend.

 Jimin wasn't the type for dramatics, though. Everything was comfortable with him, not many things reaching his 'serious business' radar, so this should be fine, right? Right. “He's fine...” You buffered, teeth chewing at your lower lip.

 Jimin pinned you with an expectant look, hated whenever you, or anyone, beat around the bush when there was obviously something on their mind. Taking this, you urged yourself to go on. “...I've just noticed like lately he's been... checking me out?” Mentally, you flinched, hoping the news wouldn't upset your boyfriend.

 His chest rumbled as he barked out a laugh, head cocked back as the sweet sounds left his plump lips. Pillow soft punches met his stomach as you tried to get him to focus. “I'm being serious, Jimin! He's always staring at me with that stupid face,”

 You imitated Jungkook's seemingly signature facial expression, eyebrows raised and tongue pushed into the inside of your cheek, eyes tracing over your boyfriend's body hungrily like Jungkook had done to you many times before. Another laugh left his lips at the sight of your face and you were scoffing, pushing him back again.

 “I don't know why this is funny to you. I just told you one of your friends has been mentally undressing me, you should be livid!” You were quick to silence the insecure thoughts that his lack of reaction had floating around your mind.

 It was no secret that Jimin was a jealous guy. What's his, is his... you were his! He should be enraged that some guy was looking at you like a piece of meat, he was the only one that was supposed to look at you like that. So why was he laughing?

 Seeing that you were obviously upset, Jimin was reaching for your arms, uncrossing them from your bare chest. His hands held loosely on your wrist as he pulled you toward him, landing a soft kiss to your lips. “I think it's funny because it's not a big deal. Me and Jungkook are boys, he's not gonna try anything with you.” He assured you, another kiss landing on your lips.

 “Okay, but, I heard him and Taehyung talking and-” You weren't even able to finish your sentence because he was sitting up, squinted eyes finding yours. “Taehyung was talking about you?”

 Oh, now he wanted to be jealous? Scoffing, you pushed him back against the headboard. “Yes.” You couldn't help the roll of your eyes. “I was trying to tell you. Not only is Jungkook always checking me out, but I heard them talking about you and us... and something about an H?”

 Jimin's expression softened, eyebrows relaxing as his cheeks tinted a few shades light of red. “Oh.” Crooked teeth worried his lower lip as he reached a hand up to push his hair back on his forehead.

 “Oh? What does H stand for, Jimin?” Obviously, he knew exactly what they were talking about and it was making him... blush? “It's nothing.” He answered a bit too quickly. “It's something.” Your words chased his, a slight bite in your tone.

 His eyes widened. “What are you gonna get mad if I don't tell you?” Laughter laced his words, but it wasn't the 'Ha-ha so funny' type of laugh, it was a type of nervous laugh he let out when he felt like he dug himself in a hole.

 You were nodding your head simply, shoving the blanket from your waist. “Yup!” Hopping from the bed, you began searching the room for the jeans you had ditched the second you were entering his bedroom. Jimin was sitting up quickly, voice stopping your movements just as you got your jeans over your thighs. “Alright, alright! I'll tell you. Come sit back down,”

 A triumphant smirk spread across your lips, as you crossed the room back to his bed. You sunk back down onto the comfortable mattress, crossing your legs underneath your bum as you awaited his explanation.

 “First of all, this was before I met you so you can't hold this against me,” He prepped and you nodded your head, gesturing with your hand for him to go on. “A while ago... with my exes, or just like girls that hung around us... Jungkook and I would, you know...”

 You had pretty a good idea what he was alluding to, but you weren't the type to graciously take a hint. “No, I don't know... you would, what?” He was rolling his eyes at the smirk on your lips, hands pushing his hair back out of habit.

 “Share them, our girlfriends, the groupies... It was fun, you know? Capitol H doesn't stand for anything, it's literally what our bodies do,” He let out a short laugh and you picture the way an H looked. “...So I'd be the middle part?” You clarified, your words making Jimin's eyes snap up to you.

 “Who said...” His words trailed off, brows furrowing as he visibly went through the thoughts bubbling in his mind. You didn't blame him. Despite the occasional interesting position or location, you liked to keep it pretty vanilla.

 Well aware that Jimin was more experienced than you, you didn't want to disappoint. You always thought vanilla didn't technically mean boring... at least it didn't to you. But after hearing that he use to partake in regular threesomes you couldn't help but wonder what else the other girls he's been with let him do.

 Just the pure fact that you were considering this, putting yourself in the situation was enough to baffle your boyfriend, confuse him enough to convince him that you were just fucking with him. A laugh slipped past his lips as he shook his head. “Come on, Yn. You wouldn't be into that.”

 “How do you even know?”

 “Well, because I know you. It was a long time ago, Yn. They were just talking shit, you don't have to-” Annoyed, you were cutting him off.

 “I might want to. I could be into it, you don't know. Jungkook is cute and...”

 His face was twisting, and you were afraid you had said the wrong thing. Sure of it when the words left his lips. “Are you saying you want to fuck, Jungkook?” Thankfully, he didn't exactly look angry... just a little bit put off?

 A hand reached out for his, easily lacing your fingers together. “Listen, I know I'm not that... adventurous, when it comes to sex... but if it's something that you enjoyed doing or if you just want to, I'm just saying... I wouldn't be against it.” Your thumb soothes over the back of his hand and enjoys the smile that pushes onto his lips.

 His eyes soften again, staring up at you lovingly. The confusion of whether or not you had just admitted you were into his bandmate gone and forgotten. “I promise, I like the sex we have just fine, don't worry.” He was leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull your body into his.

 Four days passed since your conversation with Jimin. More and more time was spent around their dorm, soaking up as much time with him as you could before he was jetting off to his next schedule. Being around him all day, though, meant that you were around his friends all day too.

 It wasn't a big deal, these guys were cool. At least, most of them were. In the past days, Jungkook had become bold, to say the least. Not looking away when he's caught staring, instead of waiting for you to be the one to break. On top of that, it was like the kid never knew when to shut up, always coming up with a snarky comment or undermining you but at the same time calling you 'Noona' with that boyish grin of his.

 Jimin no doubt told him all about the talk that you two had if those boys were sharing girls... there was no way they weren't sharing secrets. You don't know what you knowing about their sexcapades did for him, but it clearly had gone to his head. It'd be best to just ignore him, you decided. No matter how undeniably attractive he was, there was nothing there for you. You didn't want him. Didn't need him, no matter the dampness that ensued whenever he smirked. And of course, you didn't ever notice the size of the bulge that constantly pushed against his pants. Was that boy always hard, or something!?

 Like right now, just walking across the lawn in search of the ball he had been playing with, but right there fighting against his swim trunks... a huge boner! You cursed the moment Jin suggested a pool party would be a fun way to spend the afternoon.

 It had sounded fun at the moment. Yoongi said he was going to barbecue and you were even more convinced when your boyfriend was making his way down the stairs shirtless in his swim shorts. The sexy one-word tattoo on full display, ripples of his abs seemed to glisten, the single trail of hair below his belly button disappearing underneath his waistband.

 Yeah, you'd definitely enjoy this afternoon. So sure of it, until you were catching sight of the man that followed him down the stairs. Jungkook, of course, who else could irk you just with their presence?

 A lot taller and more muscular than your lean boyfriend, black shorts hanging loosely on his hips, giving you a perfect view of the well-worked on V-line that acted a huge fucking arrow to his dick. Gentle lips found the top of your head, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. “You look pretty,” Jimin mumbled into your ear, and you grinned, leaning into his chest.

 Jimin was always very vocal when it came to the things that he liked to see. You showing some skin? Definitely at the top of his list. Took that into account when you picked out your swimsuit for this gathering; a red triangle string bikini, lacy black flowers decorating your breasts, and hips.

 It was obvious that Jimin thought you looked good, could tell with the lingering glances in your direction as you laid on your back trying to soak up some sun. What you didn't account for was the slight chance that his friends might think the same. And by friends, you meant Jungkook, of course.

 Poor kid couldn't take his eyes off of you, not even for a second. Which explains his constant need to get out of the pool and retrieve the ball that he kept failing to catch. The situation almost funny, if the sexy flex in his arms as he pulled his body out of the water didn't always catch your attention. If your eyes weren't automatically trailing over every ridge and bump of his muscles.

 He'd smirk when catching you, toss his long wet hair before slipping back into the water. Wouldn't even wait to see the annoyed roll of your eyes, not as it mattered – he had already caught you staring, more than once. Acting as if he didn't affect you was a waste. And to make matters worse, Jimin was always right there observing each and every one of your interactions with the kid, face giving nothing away.

 Not angry, or annoyed. Just watching, as if he was curious to see what you'd do. How you'd react. As if he had put this whole entire thing in motion earlier and was observing the aftermath. 

 By the time Yoongi was announcing dinner, your body was buzzing with annoyance. Or was it desire? Either way, you were about two seconds from ripping your hair at the roots. Jimin sat beside you, the first time he was within arms reach the entire evening. He grinned, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you close engulfing you with his sweet scent. 

 Stupidly, you found yourself relaxing in his arms. Head falling on his shoulder while a hand lifted to press against his stomach. He was warm but still a little wet from the pool. You felt the movement of his head but didn't bother with lifting your head to see who he was speaking too. Stupid, because seconds later the spot next to you was being taken up.

 Guess who.

 Of course, Jeon Jungkook was slipping into the space beside you, a cocky grin playing on his most likely soft lips. His eyes flickered over to Jimin's before he was dropping his focus back onto you.

 “We've got burgers and hot dogs, and Jin is coming out with the chicken,” Yoongi called out, stepping toward the table with a tray of meat in hand. The second the food was in reach, the boys were hurrying to load their plates.

 Like the ever so dotting boyfriend, Jimin loaded up your plate as he did his. Comfortable conversation surrounded the table, voices overlapping and thick strings of laughter falling from their lips. You weighed in where you could, beaming when you were able to make a few of them laugh along with you.

 It was fun. Talking to them, getting along. Despite the fact you had been dating Jimin for a while, conversations with most of his friends were surface level at most. It didn't really bother you, but it was a good feeling knowing that if needed, you could get along with these guys.

 “No, yeah... if you're into old-time movies, you should definitely check out...” Taehyung's words were fading into the background, your attention slipping from what he was saying and to the warm hand on your thigh. Jimin's. An unsuspecting smile on his lips when you looked up to catch his gaze. 

 Just barely catching the title of the movie Taehyung was referring to, you turned your attention back to him. “It's good? I should check it out.” He nodded, all at once losing interest in the conversation, Jin's story catching his ear.

 There was a mischievous glint in Jimin's eye as he spread your legs apart, tips of his fingers trailing up your bare thigh. His head tilting until his lips were able to reach the skin of your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses down the length.

 You felt your body melting into him. Ready to succumb to whatever he had in store for you, the tingle of anticipation rushing through your veins. A familiar heat spreading throughout your body, lips curling into your mouth as you waited. The press against your left side had your eyes snapping open, darting to the cool tattooed hand making it's way up to your thigh. Jungkook.

 His fingers inching up your thigh, closer and closer to your core while Jimin held your legs apart, fingers tight against your flesh. “If you don't like it, tell him to stop.” His words are hushed against your ear, and you're nodding quickly, hearing the sincerity in his voice. 

 Jungkook wastes no time, callused fingers finding your clit through the fabric of your bikini bottoms. He presses down, fingers moving in circles as your body jolts at the sudden friction. “She's sensitive,” He speaks as if he's taking notes rather than trying to hold a conversation. You hold your breath, legs spreading slightly. Jimin's lips fall from your skin, cheek resting against your shoulder so he can see.

 Never did you think you'd be the one to have such a penchant for something as risky as public foreplay, but here you were growing wetter by the second, the thought that either one of his friends could catch you with a simple turn of their heads. It had you unbelievably turned on, mixed with the fact that your boyfriend was watching you rather than doing it definitely added to it.

 Jungkook laughs beside you, but not at you. Delved in a conversation with Namjoon across the table as if his fingers weren't pushing your bottoms out of the way underneath the table. A long finger lazily traces over your wet folds. Jimin's chuckle covers the gasp that leaves your lips when Jungkook's fingers graze over your bare clit.

 Jin is smiling appreciatively in his direction at the support of his joke. You were going to get caught. The thought and the consequences weighing heavily on your mind, causing you to shift attempting to close your legs. “It's fine,” Jimin assures you with a whisper, strong hand holding your leg in place.

 The moment you're relaxing, Jungkook's hand is reaching down to grasp your other thigh. Easily lifting it to hook over his own, giving him total access to your throbbing pussy. It's not lost on you how hot it feels to be exposed like this, but you're not given any time to analyze what it means as soon as Jungkook traces his fingers over your entrance.

 The tips of his fingers take their time with gathering the wet arousal that had accumulated between your legs before they're moving back up to tease your tight hole. Teeth digging into your plump lip as the tips of his fingers slowly begin slipping into your core.

 Trying your damnedest to keep your face from giving away what was going on underneath the table. You force yourself to concentrate on the words coming from Namjoon's mind, although they're just words... not coherent enough to follow the actual story.

 Slowly, Jimin is reaching his thick fingers down between your legs, using his middle and index fingers to spread your lips further apart, giving him a better view. You gasp, Jungkook's fingers pumping shallowly in and out of you. 

 For a moment, your body stills, afraid you had been too loud just then. Calming when you realize none of them were looking in your direction, not even Jungkook who was the cause of all of this. No, he was seemingly wrapped in conversation with Taehyung, a teasing smirk on his lips that you guessed was meant for you.

 Jimin was the only one look at you, watching Jungkook's long fingers bury themselves deep inside of you. He's flexing them, curling and uncurling as the pad of his thumb fingers your needy clit. He's basically drooling at the sight, wet lazy kisses landing on your shoulder. His hand resting over his covered crotch, palming himself through the fabric. 

 A louder, desperate whimper is falling from your lips. This time catching the attention of Taehyung. Words coming to a halt as his eyes dart between the three of you, a wide smirk slipping onto his features. “Are you alright, Yn?” There's a teasing glint in his eye, letting you know he's not at all asking if you're alright. No, he knew exactly what was happening underneath the table and he was making it all of his business to tease you about it.

 Plastering a tight-lipped smile onto your lips, you muster all the strength you can to nod your head. “I'm fine,” There's a strain in your voice, giving him enough reason to pull a look of concern, his head tilting to the side.

 “Are you sure? You look a little flushed,” His brows furrow, topping off his fake worry and you're suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. The encounter is catching Namjoon's attention beside him, his gaze lifting to study your face. “Oh, yeah. You don't look so good.” He weighs in, actually looking worried about you.

 Jungkook takes this growing attention as an invitation to speed up the movement of his fingers. Hand tightening on your thigh, keeping you from snapping your legs shut. Two fingers plunging deep inside of you, tips brushing against the spongy spot inside of you. Jimin's domineering gaze watches your face, waiting for your response.

 However, it doesn't come. The thrusts of Jungkook's fingers, mixed with the relentless strokes of his thumb on your clit has a moan falling from your lips. It's loud and breathy, and definitely recognizable even if all attention wasn't on you. You see Jungkook's eyes widen from the corner of your eye, but he's being really careful about not looking directly at you.

 You do, actually, see him steal a glance in Jimin's direction... almost as if he's asking for guidance, but he's being ignored, Jimin's lust-filled eyes never leaving your face. “Take that kinky shit upstairs,” Yoongi speaks flatly, bored expression on his face as he stares at you.

 Jimin's hand is quick to reach between your legs, adjusting your bottoms as Jungkook withdraws his fingers from inside of you, pushing your thigh from his. You ignore the way your walls flutter at the sudden emptiness, snapping your legs shut as embarrassment reddens your cheeks and dampens your pussy.

 “Let's go.” There's no room for protest with the way he speaks, excusing himself from the table as he looks expectantly between you and Jungkook. The younger male is quick to stand, watching you as he pushes his glistening fingers into his mouth. Your heart pounds as he slowly sucks your juices from the digits.

 The other boys have turned their attention from you three, still, your body felt hot. Cheeks flushed and pussy pulsing with want. Need. You needed them, both of them. Need to have both of them on you, around you, inside you. With a breath, you're standing, following them into the house and up into Jimin's room.

 Jungkook shuts the bedroom door, flicking the lock as Jimin turns to look down at you. “You still not against this?” Eyes much softer now, gentle hands finding your hips in order to pull your body toward his. You're nodding without a second thought, want buzzing in your veins. No way were you backing out now.

 Despite the grin rapidly growing on his plush lips, Jimin was still asking: “Are you sure?” Your words chased his, hands reaching up to land on his jawline. “I'm sure,” Your lips found him, instantly being parted by their thickness. His tongue twists and tangles with yours, a single hand reaching to grasp your jaw, holding your head in place as he licks into your mouth.

 Suddenly, he's pulling back, soft eyes tinted with a dark desire. He's turning your head with the grip of his strong hand, your eyes finding Jungkook who had moved to stand directly behind you.

 Jungkook is quick to capture your lips with his. Soft lips tasting heavily of cherry, you kiss him back, body turning, melting into his as the erection between his legs brushes against your lower belly. He bites into your lower lip, tugging it slightly and pulling a whimper from his lips.

 You feel his smirk as his tongue slips past your parted lips, mapping out every inch of your mouth while his hands drop to your scarcely covered ass. Hips pushing back, involuntarily surrendering more of your ass to his. Jungkook's lips are falling from yours, hands sliding underneath the fabric of your bottoms to cup your bare ass.

 “Jungkook,” You gasp out when his hands squeeze down hard on your ass, grip pulling your body tight against his. With little to no effort, Jungkook is lifting your body off of the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He walks the two of you to the bed, laying your body onto the soft mattress.

 When he had moved was lost on you, Jimin now sitting comfortably on the chair adjacent to the bed. Hard cock straining against the fabric of his swim trunks, his hand resting over it as he watched you with his best friend.

 With your legs hanging loosely from his hips, Jungkook leans down to bury his head in the crook of your neck. Sucking wet hickeys into the skin while his large hands trail down the gentle curves of your body, fingers finding the tight bows on either side of your hips. Your breaths come out labored, rapidly losing yourself in the way he's tonguing at your skin, teeth grazing its sensitivity.

 “Fuck,” He groans, hips pushing into yours. The sound of his voice nearly startling you, with how quiet he has been since the start of all this. “I never thought I'd have a chance to have you like this,” He sighs softly against your skin. Only a second was spared for you to wonder just how often he thought about having you like this. If Jimin knew.

 Jungkook's hands were quickly traveling up your back, a single tug on the string of your bikini had it loosening around your chest. He wastes no time with discarding it, tossing it somewhere behind him before leaning down. Hot tongue connecting with your hardened bud, rolling it around in his mouth. A soft moan slips past your lips, head falling back just enough to catch sight of Jimin.

 Teeth worrying his plush lips, a hand-dipped into the front of his shorts as he watches you. Hooded eyes find yours and you swear you see his cock twitch in his hand. Your fingers tangled in Jungkook's hair, holding his head against your chest as he grinds his covered cock against the flimsy material of your bathing suit.

 Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his closer as you lift your hips. Jimin's groan mixes with the sound of yours, Jungkook's head lifting only for a moment to catch sight of his older friend, only to drop back down mouth latching onto your neglected nipple.

 “Make her cum, Kook,” Jimin speaks hastily growing impatient with how slow Jungkook was being. How he seemed to be taking his time, reveling in each moment he had with you. Allowing himself to memorize every inch of your body while he had the chance.

 The sight demand has Jungkook's body jumping to action, teeth grazing over your nipple as his hand travels down the front of your body dipping into your bottoms and covering your pussy without pause.

 Your legs squirm while his fingers toy with your bundle of nerves a wet trail of kisses, creating a line from your breasts down the middle of your body. You're sprawled out beneath him, legs wide as you wait for what you know is coming. It's not long before his head is between your legs, looking up at you with the sexiest pout and you feel as though you could cum at the sight.

 “You're soaked,” His head is tilting slightly, licking along your slit in one click motion and you're moaning out. “I've always wondered the sounds you'd make having your cute little pussy eaten.” His thumb is covering your clit, stroking it gently as your core flutters, from the growing smirk on his face, it's safe to say he noticed.

 Strong hands holding your legs apart, Jungkook lunges forward to press his soft lips against your folds. He sucks kisses against your damp lips, tongue stroking against them slowly. You're whimpering, can feel your pussy dripping as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his soft locks.

 He's quick with the up-down movement of his tongue against your slick pussy lips, tracing over each ridge and cure but avoiding that one spot he's sue would have you falling apart instantly. Instead, kept his thumb pressed against it still, motionless.

 Your hips lift, rocking into his face while his tongue lowers to tease your wanting entrance. Large hands curling around your hips to grasp the cure of your ass, pulling your body tighter against his mouth. “Fuck, Jungkook!” The shout falling from your lips as he ups his speed, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit.

 Jimin's breathy groan sounds from behind you, the familiar fap of his hand working against his hardened cock filling your ears and egging you on. His thumb slowly plays with the head, spreading the precum leaking from it. Having him watch you, turned on by the sight of you moaning his friend's name, turned on enough that he was jerking himself off at the sight. It made you feel hot, an unexplainable rush of desire coursing through your veins.

 Jungkook is pulling his tongue from inside of you it quickly being replaced with two long fingers. He pushes all the way to the knuckle, curling them to press deep inside of you. You feel the coil in your stomach slowly tighten as he continues his movements, your orgasm approaching.

 A silent scream leaves your lips the moment his lips are wrapping around your neglected clit, sucking softly as his tongue teases it. Hips lifting and rolling, body convulsing as your orgasm begins to wash over you. Jungkook's grip tightens around your shaking thighs, holding your legs in place as he pushes another finger inside of you.

 His lips suck down harder, head tilting to the side to twist your clit along with it. That paired with the new stretch of his added finger have you cumming hard all at once. His name leaves your lips in a desperate mewl, grip tightening in his hair as your back arches off the bed.

 Jungkook's pulling his fingers from your body, letting up on the suction around your clit relaxing into gentle licks of his tongue. His strong hands cover your ass, holding your body against his mouth as you ride out your orgasm. He laps up every bit of your wet cum, ignoring the sensitive twitch of your legs until he's finished. Until he's satisfied and sitting upon his knees, licking your arousal from his lips.

 He's staring at you with so much want, lust, lips slightly swollen and very red. His hair sticks up messily around his head from the grip of your fingers, chest heaving with heavy breath as he watches you.

 Jimin stands from his position behind you, hands tugging his shorts the rest of the way down his legs before he's taking slow strides in your direction. With much effort, you're lifting your body until you're seated. He grins down at you, a hand wrapped around his length while the other reaches for the nape of your neck.

 “I want you to suck me off while Jungkookie fucks you open, how's that sound?” He's wearing such a sweet smile on his face, a direct contradiction to the words that fall from his lips and the vulgar things they convey. You're nodding your head quickly, either way, leaning into his touch as his hand travels to rest against your jaw.

 Jungkook has stood from the bed, discarding his shorts in the process. He's rummaging on the other side of the room, but your focus is not on him. No, your attention is stuck on the man in front of you. His soft thumb brushing against your lower lip, your mouth falling open. He grins.

 “You made me so hard baby. Loved seeing you cum on Kookie's tongue, did it feel good?” You're nodding your head, eyes snapping up to find his. He chews on his lower lip, tracing the curves of your lips with the tip of his cock. You try to move your head to coax his cock into your mouth, but he's having too much fun teasing you to let that happen.

 Pushing your tongue out, you manage to slide it over the underside of his cock. He groans, head lolling to the side as he gives in, slowly guiding his cock past your lips and into your mouth. Your lips latch onto his dick and quickly begin licking and suckling at his length. His teeth dig into his lip as he watches you, hand reaching to grasp your hair.

 “Your mouth feels so good, baby.” He pants, rocking his hips forward slightly. Your body warms at the praise, sucking harder and speeding the bob of your head. His lower belly tightens, both hands tangled in your hair and tightening to hold your head still. Mouth widening, you allow him to push his hips forward, taking more of his cock down your throat. 

 You let him gag you, spit gathering around your lips as tears brim in your eyes. Hands braced on his hips as if that'd be enough to slow his movements. With the fucked out look on his face, the grip in your hair; it was obvious he didn't plan on letting up any time soon. Not like you even wanted him too, anyway.

 Jungkook was coming to crouch behind you, large hands finding your hips. The palm of his hand is slapping against one of your cheeks, forcing your body to jolt forward a muffled moan leaving your lips. The movement pushing you down further onto Jimin's cock, the head hitting against the back of your throat causing a cough to fall from your lips.

 Reluctantly, you pull back, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his length as heavy coughs shook your body. Jungkook let out a loud laugh, hands on your hips positioning your body onto your knees. Jimin's unmistakably gentle hand rubbed at your back, attempting to soothe your coughs as he lined his cock with your lips once more.

 You were taking him into your mouth once more, sucking with much more fervor this time. He chuckles above you, eyes flickering up to Jungkook who's fingers caressing your wet pussy lips. “She's so wet, Hyung. Think she liked choking on your cock.” He comments, fingers lazily stroking your pussy.

 Warmth spreads through your body at his words. Jungkook was much different from Jimin, sexually as well as everything else. Where Jimin never mentioned how much he knew you liked to suck him off, Jungkook was more than willing to voice his revelation that you were particularly dripping. As if he got off on the thought of embarrassing you, and it should annoy you, but it only made you want him more.

 Wanted to prove to him that you didn't so easily wither, that it would take a lot more to make you shy away. No matter the blush the took over his cheeks every time he was crude.

 His hand reached for your hair, tangling in the soft strands and slowly pulling you off of his friend's cock. Your back was soon pressed flush against his chest, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. You can see Jimin clearly now, muscles glistening with a thin layer of sweat as his palm stroked his wet cock.

 Jungkook's dick is pressed firmly against your ass cheek and your hips slowly rock back, rubbing against it. He bites back a groan, hand dropping to hold your hips in place. “You want me to fuck you, Yn?” His mouth is right by your ear, but he's speaking loud enough for both you and Jimin to hear. “Want me to make you cum, again? But this time on my cock... make you fall apart while your boyfriend watches, you'd like that, huh?” Rough fingers find your clit, flicking and tugging at it. And you nod frantically, spreading your legs wide from him and avoiding the lust-filled gaze of your boyfriend.

 He reaches for your chin, lifting your head so you're looking directly at Jimin. Jungkook moved behind you, shifting his hips until the tip of his cock nudges your awaiting entrance. “Say it,” He hisses into your ear. “Tell him,” His lower lip drags over the shell of your ear, fingers dipping lower to spread your lips for him.

 “I want-,” You feel heat growing in your chest, Jimin's expectant gaze making you feel small. He's stroking his cock much slower now, waiting on labored breaths. Jungkook's fingers pinch your clit and pleasure shoots through your veins, body twitching. “Don't be shy, princess. He can take it...” His fingers rub figure eights into the bundle of nerves.

 There was no telling how you looked right now, fucked out and panting. Desperately trying to wiggle your hips in hope to steal away more than he was letting you have. Lips are swollen and cheeks tear-stained from having Jimin's cock down your throat moments before. Your back arches against his chest as he drags the length of his cock over your slit, teasing you.

 “I want!” You shout, an electric shock of pleasure fueling you, “Jimin, fuck... watch me. I want you to watch me when Jungkook fucks me,” You plead, crazed eyes staying trained on your boyfriend. “Want you to see him make me cum.”

 “Fuck,” Jimin groans, at the same time Jungkook is pushing inside of you. His thick cock spreading your folds and breaking through your walls. You let out a loud whine, pushing back against him welcoming each inch of his length. He's groaning only when he's bottoming out, hands falling to your hips, body dropping onto your knees again.

 “She's so tight,” Jungkook sighs, pulling his hips back until the tip of his cock is catching on your pursed entrance. He pushes forward quickly, pulling a wail from your lips. Repeating the action until he feels your walls loosening around him.

 He's soon falling into a steady pace, hips snapping against yours as his fingers bruise your hips. Your legs spread wide as you fist at the bedsheets below you, whiny moans leaving your lips as you move back against him. Jimin steps back, no doubt taking in the sight in before him. The way your eyes continue to roll, flushed cheeks and mouth open wide. How your back curves into the globes of your ass the ripple with each strong thrust of Jungkook's hips. “Fuck, baby. You're taking his cock so well,” Jimin praises with a proud look on his face. 

 His soft hand brushes your hair out of your face, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail. “How does it feel, baby?” Weakly, you lift your gaze to look up at him. “S-so good,” Voice hoarse and breathy. Jungkook grins behind you, angling his hips to slide deeper inside of you.

 “Such a good girl,” Jimin's free hand wraps around his cock. And your mouth is opening before your mind can register what he wants, warm cock filling your mouth, your lips wrapping tightly around the base.

 He's sliding down your throat easily, your head bobbing in time with the slow thrusts of his hips. You reach your hands forward to grasp his balls, hands massaging against the velvety skin and his pants. Incoherent mumbles of praise fall from Jimin's lips as his head falls back.

 He looks so hot, even from this angle. The veins of his neck prominent with the clench of his teeth. Collarbones thick and on full display, housing his well worked on pecks and the tight ripples of his abs. His hand lifts to grasp your hair, holding your head in place to thrust shallowly down your throat.

 “S-shit, I'm cumming.” Jungkook whines from behind you, hips pressed flush against your ass while his legs tighten. You feel the familiar expansion of the condom around his cock as the sounds of his whiny moans fill the room. Jimin lifts his head, a chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes find the pink-cheeked man in front of him.

 “That was quick,” Jimin teases, pulling his hips back until his cock is falling from your lips. Jungkook does the same. Your body shocked instantly with emptiness, you whine in protest, hips wiggling in search of your release.

 “It's been a while,” Jungkook defends, slumping against the mattress, arms lifting to cover his eyes. Desperately trying to slow his breathing, not paying any mind to the cum that leaks the condom in thick globs painting the sheets underneath him. “Did Kookie even make you cum?” Jimin's words are directed to you and you're quick to shake your head.

 He tsks, hand reaching for your thigh and flipping your body onto its back. Your legs spread as he lowers himself between them, cock easily pushing its way deep into your pussy. A moan falls from your lips, hips lifting to meet his thrust. “Let me show you how to do it.”

 Jungkook is removing his arm from his eyes, turning his attention to yours and Jimin's bodies. He watches as Jimin's firm ass lifts and drops into you, each powerful thrust pushing your body up. Watches as your nails mark up his smooth back. Listens to the way his groans mix with your whimpers.

 Your eyes catch his for a moment, and you're soon realizing that he's not watching you. Mouth parted and eyes dazed as he stares. But not at you. Jimin's reaching his hand down, fingers finding your clit as he pushes you toward your nearing orgasm. Eyes screwing shut, you let yourself feel it.

 Toes curling and back arching as your release washes over you. Jimin hisses from the way your walls clench around his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppy, untimed. Jungkook watches as he cums, filling you up. Your name falling from his lips in a breathy moan. Your legs tighten around his waist, holding his body tight against yours.

 Minutes pass before Jimin is pulling out, rolling onto his back with a huff. He grins wide down at you, lips catching yours in a loving kiss as his hand moves between your legs, pushing his escaped cum back into your pussy. You can't help the giggle that leaves your lips from the feeling.

 “You did so well, baby.” He's complimenting you after his lips are releasing yours. You smile wide, eyes shifting between him and Jungkook. “It was amazing, thank you.” Jungkook nods his acknowledgment while Jimin presses another kiss to your lips, before standing from the bed.

 “I'm gonna go run you a bath,” Jimin grins, kissing the top of your head gently before disappearing into the bathroom. The second he's gone, Jungkook is standing from the bed. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy, and he looks out of breath; but nevertheless he's moving as if he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

 You let him. Don't bother to ask him why. You know why. And now that you knew, all the little things surrounding were starting to make sense. As if a neon sign had been flashing the warning from the beginning, but you had chosen to ignore it. Explained it away as Jungkook being a protective best friend, but you were wrong. You were so wrong. Realization was hitting you all at once and you wondering how many of their conquests found out the exact same thing.

 Jungkook was in love with Jimin.

requests are open

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  10.3: The FINAL Chapter!

Author’s Note: IM SO SORRY IM A DAY LATE I ENDED UP BEING BUSIER THAN EXPECTED AND HAD TROUBLE WRITING BUT HERE IT IS!!!! THANK YOU FOR READING! Be sure to stick around for Inception(Childexreader) ;)

"Xiao! Come here real quick!"  

The yaksha glanced your way but didn't bother to get up since you were the one approaching him.  It took a moment to register that your hands were entangled in his hair, placing something in it.  Your smile was unusually bright today--so much so that it was blinding.  Not that he minded though; you've been through a lot these past few months.  Maybe this was the happiest you've been in awhile.

"I knew it," you beamed as you admired the flower crown atop his head, "You look so cute!"

"C...Cute?"  His gaze flicked away from you for a moment while the tips of his ears reddened. "I-"

"Oh, take the compliment already.  We've been together for awhile now.  You don't need to be so shy around me."  You let yourself fall back onto the grass that was shaded by a large orange tree.  Is it a gingko?  I need to ask Aether next time he comes in here, your mind trailed.

"I..."  Xiao returned his attention to you and lay down next to you, careful not to invade personal space and always leaving an inch or two of space between the two of you.  He let his hands lay on his abdomen until he jumped a little from you scooting over without a word.  When he looked at you, he was greeted by a cheeky smile.

"I know you're not used to this type of thing called affection, but I can tell you don't mind it."

"Hmph.  You've gotten smarter."

"Hey, I told you I'm not a stupid human!"

"You're beginning to sound like Aether's companion."

"Okay, there is a huge difference between emergency food and a stupid human."

"So you admit it?"

"Ugh, keep this up and I'll have no choice but to put more flowers in your hair."

"Do you dishonor every adeptus you come across?"

"Well, you're the only adeptus I've met besides Rex--Er, Zhongli!"  The filtered sunlight peeking through the leaves above blinded you when you broke eye contact with Xiao, so instead you propped yourself on your side and admired the view behind him.

Aether's Serenitea Pot was massive.  It had to span a mile or two in every direction, and the entire territory sat upon five tall cliffs that were connected via wooden bridges and held flowing waterfalls.  The weather was always pleasant day-round.  There were several pets outside of the main house on the main cliff that you had befriended, while Xiao seemed to connect the most with one of the gray tabby cats near the entrance.  You had caught them sitting quietly together on several occasions.

"Granny would've loved this place," you sigh.

"I shall go with you to visit her grave."  He didn't look at you as he said this, but the sincerity of his words rang as clear as the sky above.  "...She'd be happy to know you're safe."

"All thanks to you."  Despite originally admiring the scenery, your eyes had drifted downward and landed on his stomach.  Both of you were fully healed by now because of Bennett, and neither of you had any lasting effects from your battles minus the required resting time.  Your side held a prominent scar both at your front and your back, but did Xiao even get scars?  He never revealed the answer--mostly because you were too embarrassed to ask--and thus leaving the idea to your imagination.

"I should probably check on the situation outside soon; it's been awhile since Aether updated us."  Xiao sat up and summoned his spear--he had mentioned a few times that it was difficult for him to relax here and needed to keep himself busy since a comfortable life is a foreign concept.

"Oh, right..."  Your gaze followed his figure as he rose to his feet.  Sensing your--what was it, disappointment?--Xiao turned to you and removed his flower crown before gently placing it atop your head.  That action was followed by a faint smile, then his lips lightly pecked the tip of your nose.

"I shouldn't be long."

"You two love birds have made quite the nest here!  I've gotta say, Aether's got great taste."  A familiar voice caught both of you off your guard and Xiao's stance became aggressively defensive in an instant.  You and Xiao were supposed to be the only ones in the teapot at the moment, and even then, those who did occasionally stay in here didn't greet you like this.  The person that voice belonged to wasn't welcome--or at least, belonged to a presumably-dead man--regardless of that savior act he pulled in Snezhnaya.

"Childe?"  More shocked than afraid, you too rose to your feet.  "What're you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?  I came here because I had something to say."  The harbinger was as carefree as ever, but as he walked towards you a slight limp became noticeable in his steps.  He was hiding an injury, but was it from Scaramouche or from Aether?

"What did you do to Aether?"  Xiao's voice was as low as a growl as he raised his spear higher.  He stood slightly ahead of you to ensure your safety since you no longer had a vision and couldn't use those mysterious anemo powers ever since the rescue.  And knowing you and your idiotic tendencies, he had to make sure you didn't do something stupid like try to fight Childe if provoked.

"Haha!  Relax!  Aether and Mr. Zhongli are doing just fine; in fact, they allowed me to enter!"  Childe hid a wince when he stopped walking, but noticed the flicker of recognition in your eyes.  His lips curled upward with flattery.   "Don't worry, ojou-chan.  A little scuff isn't going to take me out."

"I-I wasn't worrying about you."

He seemed unconvinced but faced Xiao again anyway.  "You'd be pleased to know that both Aether and Zhongli let me in on their own accord--no manipulation from me whatsoever."  The fact that he had to clarify that! "Why don't we chat over lunch?  I'll cook.  Show me to the kitchen, girlie?"

.............

To say that you and Xiao were staring was a bit of an understatement.  Here you were, both sitting at the dining table in the main hall of Aether's adeptal house watching Childe cook up a meal fit for a large family while expertly navigating the kitchen like it was his own.  And when he served you, the delicious aroma that wafted into your nose was nothing short of enticing.  You and Xiao withheld your utensils--one out of weariness, and the other because it's not almond tofu.

"What?"  Childe let out a slight chuckle as he took his seat and dug into his plate.  You have no idea how thankful he was that there were forks in the drawers instead of chopsticks.  "Oh, perhaps you two already ate before my arrival?  More for me then I suppose."  

"Um, so why are you here?"

"I figured I'd give you an update regarding our little situation outside."

"'Little?'"  Xiao couldn't contain his scoff.  He hadn't dismissed his weapon either, and it levitated beside his seat.

"Seems like the quiet life hasn't changed you one bit, yaksha."  The harbinger stopped stuffing his face and set his fork aside to look at you.  "Regarding what happened with Scaramouche, I think it's safe to say I won."

"If it weren't for you coming here today, I would've assumed your untimely demise."  Ignoring Xiao's look of disapproval, you reached for your utensils and started to eat.  Both of you hadn't taken your eyes off of the harbinger as he cooked, so the chances that he may have tampered with the ingredients were low.  Plus it'd be out of his character to go about eliminating enemies like that.  "I'm grateful that you saved my life, but don't think for a second that that makes up for everything you've done to us."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare.  I know I've been aggressive for lack of a better term, but I'd like you to know that I'm only like that when it comes to my duties as one of the eleven harbingers.  Aside from that, I'm happy to call you a comrade just as I view Aether and Zhongli."

"Woah woah woah," you nearly choked.  "I'm certainly not going to start viewing you as a friend now."  

Childe simply laughed at your objection.  "Think what you may, but I do respect you and the rest of Aether's party.  As for my motherland and it's affairs, I think you'd be happy to know that the Tsaritsa has stopped her pursuit of you and Xiao.  She's not exactly appreciative of you wrecking the palace and would like to avoid any further destruction that can hamper her current plans."

"That's all it took for her to leave us alone?  You must be joking."  The archon had spent so much time and resources on hunting and imprisoning you--the idea of her giving up just like that had to be unrealistic, right?  And the fact that Xiao managed to bring the entire palace down...there's got to be some sort of bounty on your heads.

Childe met your gaze and held a level of sincerity equivalent to the time when he confessed his feelings and offered you a position among the harbingers on Dragonspine.  "Not in the slightest.  Regardless, you're free to lead carefree lives from now on.  Though if you'd like to rejoin the Fatui I'm sure I can pull some--"

"Nope.  I'm done with that."

"Ha! Very well then."  Childe resumed eating with an amused grin on his face, but Xiao wasn't satisfied with this conversation yet.

"You've given us no reason to trust your words."  His stare was hard and calculating as he tried to decipher any hidden motives behind Childe's friendliness.  It wouldn't be unusual for this to be some kind of trick.  In fact, he expected that there'd be some sort of catch.

The harbinger sent a brief glance Xiao's way before guiding another forkful of food into his mouth and shrugging.  "...Like I said, think what you may.  I don't care if you two choose to live in this realm or in Teyvat with the rest of us.  But then again it must be incredibly boring for a guardian yaksha to be lounging around in this domestic place.  I know I'd be driven mad if I had to live in such a quiet place for so long."

Xiao didn't flinch or give any indication that he was right, but your eyes briefly flicked his way.  It was uncomfortable for him to be 'relaxing' here with nothing to do.  It wasn't surprising that he'd be yearning to go out and uphold his contract with Rex Lapis again.

............

"Childe, wait."  Your hand gripped his forearm rather aggressively as he reached for the door handle to take his leave.  Xiao had heard a disturbance outside and went to check on the realm just in case, so it was only the two of you inside the mansion.

"What is it, ojou-chan?  Miss me already?"

"Yeah right."  As he turned to face you, your grip lightened until you let go.  He hadn't called you 'Mezzetin' once since he got here, only referring to you with this nickname like old times...Childe raised a confused brow.  "Why?"

"...Why?  Why what?"

"Why did you save me?  You could've just let Scaramouche kill me back there.  So...why did you risk your life to save mine when you didn't care less when I was tortured?"  Your stance was firm as you faced him head-on.  "I need to know."

"Ah," Childe awkwardly scratched the back of his head, "that."  Some sort of conflict flickered in those blue eyes of his as he formulated an answer he didn't quite know himself.  "Like I said earlier ojou-chan, I've always seen you as a com--no.  As a friend.  Just as Zhongli and I converse despite the Osial controversy, I see you in the same light despite my loyalty to the Tsaritsa."

"That doesn't answer my question, though.  You had several opportunities to stop what was happening, and it was only then when you decided to step in.  So why then?  What changed your mind?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit, Tartaglia.  There's got to be strings attached to this, right?  You expect something in return from me? Just get on with it already and tell me."

"I doubt you'd be satisfied with my answer regardless," he muttered mostly to himself.  "I may be kind of a bad guy, but I'm not completely heartless."  He observed the stumped expression that sat on your face as the gears turned in your head.  Then, he turned to the door again.  "When you're ready, you should join Mr. Zhongli and I for drinks sometime.  Farewell, girlie."  He was gone.

Despite the deep-rooted grudge you held against the harbinger now, you couldn't help but still hold some sense of familiarity or gratitude for him.  You might just take on that offer if only to purposely antagonize him at the dinner table.

......

"Xiao, how did you get your tattoo?" The two of you were sitting beneath another one of the many trees native to Liyue in the adeptal realm, still waiting for news regarding your return to the mortal realm.  Several days have passed since Childe paid you a visit, and Zhongli and Aether still had yet to check in on the two of you.  To keep Xiao occupied and keep him from worrying, you'd ask him questions.  "I don't have any of your memories of it."

Despite his memories being shared with you due to your bond, the further back in time they're from, the blurrier they got.  The oldest memory you could 'remember' dealt with the god that enslaved him, and even then, there was no mention of the mysterious green markings that sat on his arm.

"I've always had these markings," he answered gruffly.  He had sat up a moment prior with the intent to exit the teapot out of concern for your companions, but your random question caught him off guard.  His amber eyes narrowed cynically when your fingers traced them.

"Do they have a special meaning?"

"'Meaning?'"  His gaze averted for a moment as he decided whether or not to indulge such a topic.  But your eyes were so full of life as you traced his arm, and your touch was so warm...  "They represent my true form."

"True form?"  You tilted your head and attempted to picture whatever the heck he would be, but all you saw were a bunch of random shapes.  The other adepti in Liyue are shaped like deer and cranes, but what the heck was this mosaic supposed to be picturing?  "And, uh, what would that be?"

Xiao let out a tiresome sigh and realized he may have made a mistake in answering these questions.  Now that he had told you, you weren't going to stop asking until you got to see for yourself.  He never uses his true form; very few had ever seen it and those who have have already passed.  Zhongli had only ever seen it once.

Seeing his apparent concern made you raise a brow.  "No way.  Don't tell me your true form is a bug or something!"

"Tch.  Is that really what came to mind?"  Xiao shot you a glare before standing.  He was planning on walking away and ending the conversation, but your silent pleading made him reconsider almost instantly.  We are alone, he thought.  Perhaps I could show her once.  "Fine," he grumbled.  "Close your eyes."

You obeyed.  He didn't exactly say 'no' when you asked if he'd be a bug.  He wasn't going to appear as such...right?  Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the anticipation.  And just as your excitement grew, so did the winds that brushed past you.  Even the leaves in the tree above were shaking violently. Then, everything stilled.  Something soft brushed your fingertips, which were resting on your knees.  It was a cue.

"Hm?"  Xiao was no longer standing over you.  Instead stood a majestic bird with blue and green feathers that shimmered like glitter in the sunlight that filtered through the tree branches. "You're--!"

"--a bird," he finished.  He didn't say anything for a moment and allowed you to take it all in, seemingly shy or even embarrassed as you instantly reached out to touch him.

The blush that rushed to your cheeks was ignored by the both of you while your fingers grazed over the feathers that stuck up from the top of his head. He was beautiful; as breathtaking as a peacock, even.  Your fingers trailed down the back of his long neck, earning a rise of feathers as Xiao contemplated your movements.  His feathers were softer than the finest textiles in Liyue! And the tail feathers he had must've been as long as you are tall.  They glowed a light blue that's similar to the eyes of his mask.

"So beautiful," you whispered in adoration.  Xiao shifted his wait to his other foot.  "Thank you for showing me."  The fact that he did showed how much trust he placed in you--

The sound of a twig snapping scared the crap out of both of you--so much so that Xiao immediately transformed back into his mortal self.  Since he was so close to you though, it looked like he was sitting on you from the front angle.

"Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to check in--" Aether nearly stumbled when he approached you.  "Um...am I interrupting?"

"No!"

"The Vigilant Yaksha is BLUSHING?!"  Paimon squealed so loud that the three of you scowled.  "And what's with that sitting position?! You--"

"Paimon!" Aether swatted at his companion before she could say something that angered the yaksha.  "We came here for a reason!"

"Hey! Paimon is NOT a fly!"

"It's confirmed to be safe now.  You two can come home!"

"Wait, really?"  The two of you stood up.  "Are you sure?"

"Yep! There's no issue with the Fatui anymore.  Everyone's backed off.  We'll see you at the Pavilion for dinner to celebrate, okay? Don't be late!"  The two partners exited the realm in a flash.

"Ready?"  Xiao turned to you.

"Right now?! It's so sudd--"

"You don't have any belongings here anyways."  The statement cracked a smile on both faces.  "Let's go."  He reached to tap the symbol on his hand.

Your hand grabbed his.  "Wait!  Let me see you a little longer."  He was confused to say the least, but you didn't bother explaining how gorgeous he looked in the light right now.  Those amber eyes mirrored your own--though perhaps it'd be more accurate to say the opposite.  This is the last chapter of the crazy 'adventure' and the dangerous waltz with the Tsaritsa.  In just moments you'd be back in reality, return to Liyue Harbor, return to your Granny's grave, and he would return to his duty of protecting Liyue.  One more moment in this peaceful environment is all you need to admire him before life got hectic again.

Now your new adventure will be permanently at Xiao's side for however long your lifespan is: training with him, supporting him at his darkest moments, and loving him.  No matter what Teyvat brings next, you'll be able to take it on head-first despite lacking a vision and at his side.  You'll both thrive, not just survive.  And as you peered into his eyes, you could tell he felt the same.  "Okay," you nod.  "I'm ready."

[deniigi]

A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)

I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious

Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.

(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)

Title: in the plains of Zeffo

Summary:

“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------

There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.

Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.

Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.

Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.

Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.

He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.

The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.

They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.

Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.

Bojzka had other plans.

It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.

Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.

None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.

The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.

When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.

Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.

So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.

Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.

“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”

Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.

“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”

“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”

“Q-u-o—”

“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”

“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”

Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.

‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.

“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”

“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”

Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.

Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.

“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”

“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”

Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.

“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.

“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”

Bojzka processed this.

“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.

“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”

Bojzka backtracked like a champ.

“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”

“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”

Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.

“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”

Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.

“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”

 --

Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.

He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.

She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.

She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.

When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.

She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.

That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.

He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.

He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.

He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.

Never too old to be ignored, though.

“Goraaaaaan.”

“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”

He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.

The kid’s name was Karren.

He and Boba were now best friends.

“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”

“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”

Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.

“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”

Oh?

“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.

“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”

“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”

“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”

Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.

“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.

Karren frowned and chewed a lip.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”

Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.

“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.

“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.

Fennec beamed.

“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.

“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”

Yep.

It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.

“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.

“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”

“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karran cocked his head at her.

“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.

Bless him.

“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”

“Is Din in trouble?”

“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”

The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.

Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.

“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.

The kid lit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”

Well, fuck. That explained a lot.

“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karren shrugged.

“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”

Awww.

“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.

Karren’s frown eased up finally.

“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”

Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”

“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.

Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.

“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”

What did Boba think?

Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.

 ---

Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.  

“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”

“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.

Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.

“What’s neutral for?”

“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.

The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.

“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”

“Jam?” Karren asked him.

Hm.

Punch it?

“Punch what?”

The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?

“Rock?”

“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”

There we go. Onward march then.

 ---

An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.

“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.

The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.

The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.

“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”

Bless him.

“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”

Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.

“Buir,” Karren pleaded.

“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”

“NO.”

Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.

“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.

“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.

“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”

Din’s shoulders dropped.

“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”

“BUT YOU COULD BE.”

Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.

“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.

“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”

“Promise,” Karren demanded.

“Ehn.”

“Din, promise.”

“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”

“Bring them. All of them.”

“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”

“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.

Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.

“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”

Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.

“I don’t like him,” he told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”

Boba missed that kid already.

 --------

Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.

“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”

“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.

“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”

Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.

“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”

Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.

“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.

Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.

“She is not looking to marry,” he said.

“What, so you speak for her now?”

“She is not looking to marry.”

“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”

Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.

“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.

“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”

No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.

“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”

Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.

“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.

Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.

“Eegang is—” Din started.

“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”

“Eegang—”

“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”

Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.

Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.

A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.

“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.

The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.

“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.

“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.

“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.

“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.

“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”

Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.

“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”

“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”

 --------

Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.

Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.

Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.

Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.

Din thought about that.

He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.

And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.

 -----------

Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”

The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”

“Are you a droid or somethin’?”

“Please give—”

“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”

“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”

Bojzka jerked.

“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”

Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.

“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.

 -----------

Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.

No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.

“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.

“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.

“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.

Eegang winced.

“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”

“Me,” Din said without hesitation.

“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”

“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.

“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.

“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.

“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”

Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.

“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”

“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”

“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”

Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.

“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”

Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.

“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”

Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.

“A what?” Skywalker asked.

 -------

Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.

Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.

Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.

“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”

Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.

An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.

 -----------

Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.

She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.

To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.

She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.

Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.

 -------

It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.

The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.

Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.

His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.

He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.

Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.

 -----

In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.

Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room.  This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.

The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.

“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.

Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.

“That’s a fun trick,” he said.

“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”

“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”

“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.

Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.

“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.

Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.

“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.

“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.

“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”

Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.

“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”

Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.

“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.

“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.

“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”

And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.

 -------

Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.

Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.

She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.

She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.

“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”

 --------

Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.

Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.

Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.

Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.

Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’

Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.

Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.

He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.

 ----------

After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.

‘To talk,’ she said.

Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.

Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.

“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.

She gave him two naughty fingers.

Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.

 ---------

It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.

Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.

Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.

Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.

Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.

Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.

Din tilted his head.

“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.

Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.

“Sotra,” Din greeted.

“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”

This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.

“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.

“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”

“Just hay?” Din asked.

“And goats,” Sotra said.

Ah.

“We raise goats now?” Din asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”

“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”

Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.

“Hi,” she said.

“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.

Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.

“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.

“DIN.”

“Shhhh.”

“RELEASE M—mmf.”

“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”

Din chuckled.

“Hey, Samo,” he said.

Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.

“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”

“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”

Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.

This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.

These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.

“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”

“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”

“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.

“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”

“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.

“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”

“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.

“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.

The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.

People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.

Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.

“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”

“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.

Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.

“You got in,” he deadpanned.

“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”

And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.

Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.

Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.

“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”

“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”

Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.

 ------

“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.

“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”

Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.

Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.

Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.

“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.

Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.

“Tool gnome,” she said.

No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.

“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.

The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.

“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.

“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.

“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”

“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”

Din cringed.

“I—”

“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”

Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”

“We did not,” Din said.

“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”

Din sighed.

“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”

“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”

Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.

“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.

“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”

“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.

 ----------

Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.

 ---------

The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.

The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.

Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.

He knocked.

“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.

Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.

“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”

“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”

Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.

It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.

“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.

Din’s brain stuttered.

“Uh?” he said.

Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.

“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”

“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”

“They’re hideous,” Karren said.

“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”

Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.

“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”

“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”

“Children.”

And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.

“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”

Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.

“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”

Bojzka beamed.

“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”

Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.

“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”

“But—” Shimmol started.

“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”

“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”

Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.  

The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.

“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”

Din pointed even more insistently.

“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”

 --------

The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.

“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”

“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.

“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”

Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.

“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”

Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.

“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”

Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.

“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”

“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”

“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”

“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”

“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.

The Armorer waited.

“Buir,” Din corrected.

“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”

Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.

“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.

The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.

“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”

 -----------

Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.

In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.

Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.

The kids made a break for it.

  Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.

Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.

Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.

One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.

“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.

“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.

Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.

“Djarin, come here,” he said.

 -------------

Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.

“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.

“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”

“Jhuvac.”

“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.

“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”

Welp.

“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.

“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”

What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.

“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.

Jhuvac glanced back at him.

“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.

Boba lifted a brow.

“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.

“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”

 ---------

The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting  the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.

Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.

He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?

Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.

Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.

Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.

 ----------

In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.

Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.

“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.

It left the glove wet and empty.

“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.

“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”

Gotcha.

“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”

More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.

“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.

“Who?”

“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.

“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.

Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.

“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”

“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”

“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”

“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”

“I could be.”

“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”

“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”

“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”

“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.

He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.

“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.

The name alone sent the group into titters.

“Naseem was so nice.”

“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”

“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”

“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.

“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”

“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.

“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.

“There is only one Eegang.”

“Girl, we know.”

There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.

“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”

Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.

“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.

“With a covert?”

No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’

“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”

It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.

“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”

All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.

“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”

“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”

Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.

“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.

There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.

“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”

The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.

“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”

“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.

“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”

“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”

“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.

Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.

“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.

At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.

 ------

Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.

It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.

Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.

Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.

The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.

Boba appreciated the save.

He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.

“YOU STUPID BOY.”

There it was.

The children bustled and whispered.

“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”

Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.

While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.

 --------

Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.

“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.

“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”

“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.

She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.

“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”

“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.

“We shall not,” the Armorer said.

 ---------

Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.

Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.

He did and crossed his legs right back.

“So?” she asked.

“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”

Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.

“Surprising,” she said.

“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”

“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.

“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”

“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.

There was a long pause.

“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.

“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”

“Unicorns,” Kryze said.

“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”

“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”

That was no fun.

“Why is Fennec so smug?”

Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.

[randomoranges]

apparently, exploring bits of august 2019 is where im at lamao

here is another thing from august 2019 before they get back together

also i still have the BEST titles for these ahahahaah

Tattoo IV

 August 2019, still before they get back together

 It happens in a flash and Étienne sees it from the corner of his eye as he’s taking a drink of water. They’ve stopped for a bit to catch their breaths and figure out where to go next and Étienne has politely stepped to the side to let everyone else give their opinion. He is a guest, after all, and he’s not quite sure what the plans of the day really are anyway. Plus, he’s not familiar with the place they’re at and so, even if he had anything worthwhile to say, it would be a moot point.

 Therefore, he takes his drink of water and waits. He observes his surroundings and Edward happens to be in his line of sight, and that’s when he notices the splash of colour on his friend’s left arm. He blinks and makes sure he didn’t imagine it, but sure enough, there is ink on Edward’s arm that he can’t recall seeing beforehand.

 Intrigued and going by impulse, Étienne puts his bottle away and walks towards his friend. The tattoo seems to circle his bicep and the closer he gets to it, the more colours he sees. He wonders how new it is or whether or not it had always been there, hidden behind Edward’s shirts and coats over these past few years that they’ve rekindled their friendship.

 “Is everything alright?” Edward asks, when he notices him approaching.

 Étienne nods and points to the tattoo, “New ink?” He asks and Edward follows the direction of his finger, before shaking his head.

 “Not really – got it back in ’13.”

 Étienne nods and wonders if it would be rude to ask if he can see it closer, curiosity getting the best of him, but Edward is a step ahead of him and turns slightly to the side so that Étienne can do just that.

 “It’s – well, y’know, an homage to my roots. Finally got around to doing something about it.” Edward babbles on, almost as if he’s nervous about showing this to him.

 In Étienne’s opinion, it’s really cool, is what it is. Better than what he did for his own, after so long. (He’s still not entirely sure it works, but for now, it’ll do. Plus, this isn’t the moment for that.) The concept works and the colours mesh well together. Not that it should matter, but Étienne also finds that they go well with Edward’s complexion. However, he thinks that might be too much to say, given the circumstances. Instead, he settles for “It’s nice,” but the look on Edward’s face almost seems as though he thinks Étienne is patronizing him, when that is far from the case.

 “I’m serious!” He starts to clarify, “I really like the idea of the ceinture fléchée.” He pauses, suddenly wondering if it’s even that. It looks like one. “It is a ceinture fléchée, yeah?” He asks, before he can potentially make a bigger fool of himself as his mouth runs off without the consent of his brain.

 Edward gives him a tentative smile and nods, “Yeah, that’s what it is...”

 Encouraged, Étienne keeps going, now that he’s started and that Edward hasn’t pulled out a sweater to cover his arm and never speak to him ever again, “I think it’s really clever. The way you incorporated the Métis flag with the belt. The artist you picked has a good hand.” He doesn’t look at Edward and instead focuses on the tattoo, a traitorous hand coming up, wanting to examine the artwork with his fingers. He used to do this before – used to let his fingers run over the lines that composed Edward’s body. Not necessarily over ink, for Edward had always had less than him, but over the grooves and ridges of his body, from one end to the other.

 He doesn’t realise he’s doing it, until there’s a speckled index on Edward’s bicep, tracing over the interlaying greens and yellows,  “The lines are clean and clear and the overlap with the motifs is really good.” He continues, as if in a trance, mesmerized by the colours and the play of skin and ink. “It’s not blotchy and it didn’t bleed through. It suits you...”

 Étienne finally trails off and realises what he’d just been doing. He snaps his hand away and holds it with the other, trying to keep it in check. He flushes furiously, embarrassed he had just gone off like that as he often does when looking at an art piece. The only issue being that Edward is his friend and he hadn’t asked Edward if he could – do what he’d just done.

 “Sorry, got a little carried away...” He apologises before it gets weird and he doesn’t know why he does it, but he chances a glance at his friend, wondering what expression he’ll find there. He’s surprised when Edward looks as if he’d been holding his breath and it might be the sun, but his cheeks look a little pink.

 “It’s – it’s fine,” Edward recovers. They both step back at the same time and share a timid sort of smile. “I’m glad you like it.” His friend adds as a platitude.

 “S’long as you like it. Shouldn’t matter what others think. Fuck ‘em, as I say.” Étienne shoves his hands deep in his pockets as he tries to go for a casual air. He finds his cigarettes and lighter and thanks whoever might still be watching his back for the distraction.

 “Still, I always valued your opinion.” Edward tells him.

 Étienne’s hands still as they’re about to light up a cigarette, but he recovers quickly. He lets the words float up in the air for a moment, long enough to give him a chance to take a good long drag, before he exhales and there is only smoke instead of words.

 “Well, like I said, it’s a good concept and it suits you. How did you figure out the design?” He asks, ignoring the part of him that wonders if Edward still values his opinion today. He can ask about technical specks. It fits with his personality, after all and he is genuinely curious, now that they’re talking about it.

 “Oh, well, I had the idea more or less and the artist made it look good,” Edward laughs and Étienne can’t help but grin along.

 “They did a good job,” He reiterates like a broken machine as he fiddles with his cigarette, “It works. It’s a good homage...” He pauses and then tries to start again, looking for the right words to say what it is he really wants to say. “Thirty years ago, you wouldn’t have even considered doing something like this, but now it’s like – you’ve finally grown into yourself. Accepted what you are and who you are for real. It’s a good look on you.”

 For the first time since this conversation started, Étienne offers him a true and honest smile. He’s genuinely amazed and proud of the personal development Edward has gone through and he’s glad he gets to be part of the journey once more. He always knew that there was so much potential to Edward and he’s proud of his friend for finally embracing that side of him.

 “T-thanks...” Edward looks a little surprised, but also pleased by the comment. It warms some part of Étienne’s cold and most likely dead heart and he savours the moment.

 “C’m’on, let’s join the others before Cal decides we need to go and visit a ranch or something.”

 Edward laughs and follows him back to the group.

 FIN