#He'd be blind to red but blues and greens

[cxpperhead]

Has Copperhead's eyesight changed at all as his mutation has progressed?

While Copperhead lost the ability to close his eyes, his sight improved significantly, making him able to perceive his surroundings much more clearly in low levels of light than ordinary humans can. Not only that but the cones in his eyes are much more receptive to colours in these conditions - snakes aren't renowned for having great eyesight but Copperhead is built different, quite literally since even in near total darkness, he can perceive blue and green when most other nocturnal creatures are limited to black and white! His eyes are also great at handling UV lighting, be it high levels during the day or low, low levels at night? Copperhead is comfortable operating at either time of day, even when living in sunny places like his native state of Arizona but rapid changes can and will cause temporary blindness since Copperhead cannot close his eyes against sudden flashes. This temporary state of blindness hinders him less than you'd expect; he goes through this during shedding periods, eyes filming up and glazing over when his skin is preparing to renew but getting flashbanged hurts and will almost certainly piss him off. During the day, he can see about as well as a human with perfect eyesight and very good ability to track moving objects, therefore responding much more quickly due to his Metahuman capabilities but it's at night when his abilities truly comes into play, making him a much more formidable hunter when others are stumbling around blind in the dark.

[sagesturns]

Live Photo

Summary: Matt had never hated a live photo more, yet deep down, he knew he'd always love it to the core because it was something he could never fully let go of. Something he couldn’t erase, no matter how hard he tried.

Contains: angst

The party was loud. The bass of the music rumbled through Matt's chest, vibrating the couch he was slumped on. Lights flashed in chaotic patterns, streaks of red, blue, green, white—blinding him in every direction. The people around him seemed to disappear into the rhythm of the music, swaying and moving in sync, their voices rising and falling in a blur of laughter and shouts.

But he didn’t care.

Nick had vanished along with most of his friends out on the patio, and Chris was somewhere else with his own friends, gossiping about something which really did not concern Matt. The crowd was too much, too overwhelming, too loud. The air felt thick with sweat, the smell of cheap beer, and something else—something he couldn’t name. But it didn’t bother him. Not anymore.

He just released his body into the old sofa cushions, hugging the sleeves of his hoodie tighter as if it might save him from anything. He could still feel the vibration from the speakers under the floor, the pulse of the beat, but he wasn’t listening. He wasn’t there, not really.

It was all noise—just background to the silence inside his head.

He got his phone out of his pocket and idly scrolled around. Scrolling through social media, he briefly skimmed a couple of comments from his friends without engaging with any of their notifications, like annoying little electronic flies buzzing around his head. None of it interested him. The screen was just a way to distract himself from everything happening around him—and, more importantly, from everything happening inside of him.

He idly swiped the thumb over the app one by one until it reached the photo gallery.

It was instinct, a part of him that reached for the past without even thinking. He tapped it open.

At first, there were just random pictures—some blurry shots from parties, selfies with his brothers, a few candid moments with friends. But then, something stopped him.

A photo of you.

It was an old one. One from before everything had changed. A time when things felt… easier. The memory of it hit him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

His chest tightened. He hadn't meant to stumble on it, hadn't meant to open it. But there it was. You were smiling—really smiling—in that picture. Your eyes were bright, like you were in on some private joke that only the two of you shared. Your laugh, captured in that moment, was so genuine, so alive. The strobe lights flashed in his peripheral vision, but they appeared out of reach, even unreal. The voices, the laughter, the wild beat of the party—all mellowed. He couldn’t even hear the music anymore. All sound was swallowed up by the vision of your smile, your face, the picture of pure joy, and it was almost impossible to take in.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you—how much he’d been avoiding that feeling. He fixated on the photo, as if he was being choked by the lack of something he didn't know how to restore.

For a brief second it got stuck in a pause, his thumb touching the screen, hesitant. He wasn't willing to revisit that portion of his life. Not now. But the longer he stared at your face, the harder it was to look away. And when he swiped along the screen he, spontaneously, tapped on the photo.

And then it happened.

The photo blinked. The screen flickered. And the sound came back—your laugh. It wasn’t loud at first, just a soft giggle, like a memory drifting through the air. But then it grew. Clearer. Louder. Real.

It was as if he could also hear it, even now, even with the music at such great volume, your laugh felt like the loudest melancholy in the world. Just then, the world around him started to blur.

His breath caught in his throat. It was like hearing a ghost—like you were suddenly right there with him. It was a joke he hadn’t heard in ages and yet it seemed such a fresh, real, experience, as though to experience the heat of it.

The sound of it did something to his heart. Something sharp. Something heavy. His breath became caught, and he felt himself to be somberly holding his breath.

He looked back over the photo, experiencing the burn in his throat. The image was alive. You were so alive in it, your smile stretching wide, your eyes full of happiness, your face glowing with something so pure, so real. It was a snapshot in time, an almost forgotten memory.

And then, the sound of your laugh… it hit him like a wave.

It wasn’t just the sound of you laughing anymore. It was a force, almost overwhelming. The music from the party seemed to fade out completely, as if it couldn’t compete with it. The laughter filled the entire space around him, even though no one else could hear it. It was the loudest object in the world, as a sound effect of something so beautiful this was almost unbearable to recall.

He shut his eyes for a moment, and did his best to resist a feeling of lump in the pit of his stomach.

The laugh was so familiar, yet so foreign now. It felt like he’d forgotten how much it meant to hear it. Forgotten how it used to make his heart race, how it made everything feel lighter, simpler. Like everything was okay. Like you were okay.

The more he listened, the more his heart twisted.In that moment, everything he’d been avoiding—the regret, the guilt, the silence that had come after—suddenly rushed back to him. It was all so clear.

He missed you. More than he was ready to admit. More than he was willing to let himself feel.

The picture was still on his phone. The smile, the joy, the love that seemed to radiate from it. He almost didn’t want to look at it anymore. It was too much, too painful to see something so perfect, something so real, that was lost now. That was gone.

He sat for ages, thumb poised over the glass, the sound of laughter still ringing in his head, and the world kept going, ticking to a beat. But to him, it was all a blur.And as the sound of your laughter faded away, he knew he would never forget it. Never forget how it made him feel.

He just didn’t know how to get it back.

Word count: 1k

a/n: first matt angst. hope yall like ittt! tysmm for all the love on my recent fics, cant be more grateful, love you all <3

Tags: @sweetshuga

@sagesturns

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere!!Fairytale characters Dark reverse Harem x reader Part 2

Ik I've been neglecting a part to for so long but here it is.

part one here

You fell into the ocean and all you could hear was a voice it was so beautiful and so sweet and..obsessive?

you woke up on a very familiar shore and sat up only to be tackled down by a big gray sheep dog who seemed very happy to see you and due to almost drowning you were extra confused.

???: Maxine? where are you girl

Then a man with dark hair and Caribbean blue eyes spotted you and the dog. Maxine? why does that sound so familiar?

??: Oh sry about Maine ma'-Y/n?

You had no idea how this man knew you but then you remembered.

Y/n: Eric?

He then beamed and hugged you it was eric another one of your childhood friends you two always played by the beach with Maxine and Eric would always say how when he became king you had to be his queen.

flashback

A much younger eric and you playing by the shore making sand castles while Maxine lied in the sun.

Eric: Y/n, Y/n look at my sandcastle!!

Y/n: Oh its so cool.

Eric: cool? It doesn't look cold y/n.

You shook your head.

Y/n: nevermind

Eric then smiled at you and laughed

Eric: Y/n you're very strange y/n when I'm big I'm going to be a king and you're gonna be my queen okay.

Y/n: No I wanna be in charge and you're the strange one.

You huffed and eric then pouted.

Eric: No Y/n you have to be my queen if you're my queen I'll tell the servants to make the moats full of chocolate.

he smirked when he saw your eyes light up.

Y/n: Oh okay I'll be your queen!

Eric: pinky swear?

he said sticking out his pinky finger.

Yn: Pinky swear.

and the moment you interlocked pinkies a promise that eric would never forget was made.

present

As Eric helped you up he brought you back to the palace but you couldn't help but wonder who saved you but little did you know you're savior carefully watched the two of you from under the water

Under the sea

???: Floundra she came back...she finally came back.

A voice excitedly said.

???: I knew she'd come back to me she must love me why else would she fall into the ocean she was practically telling me to save her an act of love!! that's so cute of her.

the voice said in a lovesick and happy way his sea blue eyes practically had hearts in them just thinking of you with a blush as red as his hair dusting his cheeks. but he then snarled.

???: But that repulsive man just had to come too trying to steal her from me I cant have that now.

Floundra his best friend looked at him concerned and worried not just for him but for you too ever since he was a sea wee he'd watch you and Eric play together longing to be a part of your world but this longing soon became a lovesick obsession she'd seen the way he'd look at you blinded by love and delusion she knew he'd go through any length to be with you but after you suddenly disappeared he was devastated and the obsession died down which Floundra was relieved about because she knew if you stayed there longer he would've done something horrendous to have you.

But the moment he saw you again helpless and almost drowning he was euphoric he'd never been so close to you, you finally came back to him he wanted to drag you down to the bottom of the ocean and keep you but unfortunately human lungs aren't for the water so he pulled you to the shore and saved you while happily singing to you and caressing your body the sunset made your skin glow and his emerald green tail shimmer in the light he wanted to stay there forever but he had to come and that mangey mut too so he went back into the ocean and watched from afar with jealous eyes watching Eric help you up.

Floundra: Arien are you okay

He just stayed silent watching Eric take you away the look on his face was blank which was strange for someone as go lucky and puppylike as Arien but it was the kind of cold stare that would run a chill down your spine.

Arien: If I don't act soon she'll be gone forever. I need to get rid of that human Floundra.

In the palace

You got washed up and brought into the old room you used to stay in pacing around wondering how to pass this story and just on time a purple light flashed and your fairy godmother came.

Godmother: I'm glad you made it my dear.

You sighed a sigh of relief happy to see her.

Y/n: Whats my task for this story Godmother?

Godmother: Well my dear you have to keep Eric alive.

At that your heart drops.

Y/n: w-whats going to kill him.

Godmother: That can't be revealed yet my dear...

She smiles gently then continues

Godmother: Keep him away from the sea at all times my dear.

And in a poof of purple light she was gone you groaned the fell onto the bed pondering what danger awaits Eric and when you'd be sent to the next story.

Eric's pov

She came back Maxine she finally came back I knew she'd never break her promise he said looking at his pinky dreamily and she came just in time for me to be crowned king I always knew she was destined to be my queen

He said as Maxine sat Infront of him wagging her tail.

Under the sea

Floundra: Eric don't do this this is a bad idea.

She desperately said swimming by Arien who then gave her a cold and furious look.

Arien: Quiet Floundra

He then swam to the entrance of the sea warlocks cave Ursule Arien swam in determined and motivated and then he saw Ursule sitting there staring right at him with his signature persuasive yet sinister smirk.

Ursule: I year you've been having trouble with you're love life my dear.

Arien: I want you to turn me into a human.

Ursule: oh~ that eager are we?

Ursule laughed and made his way to his spells before he turned to Arien and smirked.

Ursule: you do know you have to pay a price for my help.

Arien: I'll do anything to have her.

He said in a determent voice to which ursule looked intrigued by and checked his spells where your face appeared looking into the ocean.

Ursule: Oh she is quite a catch very beautiful you have a taste for gorgeous things I see.

Arien glared at his comment.

Arien: what price do I have to pay.

Ursule: Well Angelfish you will need a human heart if you want to win hers I'll make you human for Three days but by the third sunset you'll need a human heart and her love.

Arien: She already loves me.

Ursule: Sure she does Angelfish~Ooh and one more little thing, I need your voice.

Arien looked at him irritated and furious.

Arien: How will I tell her I love her without my voice.

Ursule: If she loves you as you say it'll be child's play to show her your love so sign the contract my boy.

A magic contract appeared in front of Arien with a pen to which Arien eagerly signed then suddenly he was human and Floundra quickly helped him to the surface.

Back in your room

You sat on the bed looking out the window staring at the ocean when a figure in an old ships sail stumbled across the beach.

You were intrigued and climbed through your balcony to see who it was as you drew closer you were seen and the figure attempted to run towards you only to fall as if unable to use his legs.

You quickly went to help him.

Y/n: I'm sir ate you alright.

The strange man suddenly leaped onto you nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as you pushed his face away you got a better look at him he had the most beautiful sea green eyes and soft looking scarlett red hair he was undoubtedly handsome even dressed in an old sail.

As you pushed the clingy man off Eric came along with Maxine

Eric: Y/n!! Y/n where have you gone...oh there you ar-

Eric stopped mid sentence when he saw the man on top of you glaring at him to which Eric immediately tried to separate you two while Maxine growled at the man.

Eric: What do you think you're doing with her?

Eric coldly spat out and the man who was visibly irritated opened his mouth to speak but the closed it scoffing.

Y/n: Eric it's okay he didn't do anything wrong.

You say then turn to the strange man.

Y/n: what's you're name?

You said it do sweetly hid heart melted you were finally here looking at him with those beautiful e/c eyes that were only supposed to look at him.

He opened his mouth to speak but the clutched his thought gesturing that he couldn't speak.

Y/n: oh you can't speak you poor thing Eric we have to help him.

Eric was visibly against this but wouldn't dare upset you so he simply nodded grumbling under his breath and he could've sworn he saw the man smirk.

You three then go to the palace with new company and he soon got dressed cleaned and was seated at dinner.

Y/n: Sir did you have an accident? Is that why you can't speak?

He slowly nodded.

Y/n: Are you okay with me calling you Red until we find your name?

He eagerly nodded and stared into your eyes giving you the most adorable smile but you could sense something was wrong about it...

Okay I accidentally posted this y'all tell me what your suggestions are and tell me if I should continue love you my lovely single pringles.

[zablife]

Benny Takes You Cruising on Halloween

Benny Cross x female reader

A/N: Benny takes you cruising late on Halloween night, requested by @theycametoconquertheearth53. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Warnings: dark!Benny, drinking, stalking, kidnapping Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

Benny was always running away. Something in the steady rhythm of a humdrum life in the suburbs had never agreed with him. As a teenager he'd left his parents behind, swearing never to return. But the big city hadn't treated him well, a hungry stomach and soul made worse by a cruel world. It hadn't been the adventure he hoped and his bright blue eyes began to dull from constant disappointment.

That is, until the day he spotted you at the soda fountain. Craning his neck to find the source of carefree laughter, he watched you swing your ponytail and sip a milkshake. The sight of your shapely figure made his heart throb.

Sitting up straighter in the booth, he tried to ignore the jukebox competing for attention in the corner. And when he picked out your voice over the strains of the music, he held his breath just to listen. Your words sounded as angelic as the pleasant ring of your laugh and he became infatuated with it in a matter of minutes.

Twirling the straw in your glass, you were oblivious to the dirty biker eavesdropping on your conversation. You had more pressing things on your mind, like what you were going to wear to the Pi Kappa Alpha Halloween party. "Do you really like the pink? I thought red would be sexier," you admitted to your friends, biting your lip as a naughty smile pulled at the corners of your mouth.

"You're not going to dress up?" your friend Linda asked, pushing her ice cream away in a childish pout. "Last year everyone loved our group costume," she argued.

"We're seniors now," you reminded her with a wink. "Time to get serious."

"I agree," Jenny replied with a firm nod, all business when it came to the topic of boys. "I'm attending to find my future husband, not bob for apples."

"Can't we do both?" Linda asked hopefully.

Wrapping an arm around Linda, you pulled her close as you whispered, "Don't worry, I intend to!"

Another eruption of giggles came from the counter as you rose to gather your school books. The dark green ribbon adorning your ponytail fell to the ground like a leaf drifting from a tree as your hips swished, sauntering off into the blinding afternoon sunlight.

The bell above the door rang out just as Benny's heavy boots thudded across the floor. When he reached the spot where you sat moments earlier, he bent down to pick up the soft velvet with callused fingertips. He couldn't resist the urge to draw the material across his cheek, inhaling the floral notes of your perfume as it passed under his nostrils. He only snapped out of his trance when he saw the waitress reappear to collect the coins off the counter in front of him.

"Hey, you know where the Pi Kappa Alpha house is?" he demanded.

Hands resting at her hips, she studied him with disdain. "And why would you need to know that?"

Benny narrowed his eyes, but tried to remain civil as he held up the ribbon. "Just wanna return that girl's hair ribbon is all," he explained.

The waitress attempted to swipe it from him, but he jerked it away just in time. Holding her gaze, he spoke in a low, serious tone. "A gentleman would give it back."

"You ain't no gentleman," she snorted.

As Benny reached the outermost limits of his patience, he pulled a switch blade from his jacket and held it before her terrified face. "You're right," he conceded with a dangerous look in his eye, metal gleaming in his hand. "That's why you should answer me."

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

Halloween 1965

Benny had camped out all night in anticipation of the party being held by the fraternity brothers down the street. He figured it was a small price to pay for seeing someone as lovely as you waltz back into his life. His diligence was soon rewarded as he glimpsed you teetering down the walk in impossibly high heels and a crimson red dress. "Look fuckin' perfect," Benny hummed under his breath.

Flicking his cigarette onto the pavement, he exhaled a large plume of smoke which obstructed his face. Hands jammed into the pockets of his faded Levi's, he stalked after you, half hidden by the flickering street lamp.

"One smoke and I'll be right back," you'd cooed at your boring date before he allowed you out of his sight. However, now you wondered if that had been such a good idea. Your vision fuzzy from the alcohol you'd consumed, you couldn't help but stumble as you dug into your purse for your cigarettes. Children dressed as ghouls and goblins brushed past you, making you sway unsteadily.

Your skirt still swooshed in their wake as an unfamiliar man approached. "Kids," you shrugged.

"Yeah, kids," Benny echoed with a wide smile. Then noticing your unlit cigarette he offered, "Need a light?"

You nodded in appreciation, leaning forward as he cupped his other hand around the flame.

"Thanks," you mumbled with your first exhale.

"No problem," he answered, staring intently into your eyes.

Tilting your head to study him, you noticed his rugged good looks. He wasn't like the boys inside who all reminded you of your father. Stable and predictable, they weren't half as interesting as the man who was offering you a ride on his motorcycle now.

"So you wanna come with me or what?" he asked in a seductive whisper.

"I don't know..." you hesitated all of a sudden, eyes flicking to the bike and back to your new dress.

Benny chuckled as he assured you, "I'll go slow."

You thought for a moment as you dropped the cigarette to the ground and pressed it under your toe slowly. A shriek of excitement issued forth from the kids trick-or-treating across the street and you laughed at their enthusiasm. That's when you realized this was the safest night you could choose for such an adventure with so many people out and about. "Alright, let's go," you agreed, taking his hand as he helped you cross the street.

Heart thumping against your rib cage, you allowed Benny to help you onto his bike. He smirked to himself as your fingers curled around his jacket, squeezing tightly against his waist the moment he accelerated away from the curb.

The wind in your hair felt exquisite, the cool air a welcome feeling on your burning cheeks. Am I drunk? you wondered before relaxing against Benny's strong frame and resolving to enjoy the ride.

As soon as the houses of the neighborhood began to fade into the distance you furrowed your brow in confusion. "Where are we going?" you asked over the roar of the engine.

"You'll see," came his cryptic reply.

Your insides stirred at the promise, taking in the sights of the city before he exited onto the highway. "Wait," you objected, but he couldn't hear you, zooming into oncoming traffic with shocking speed.

"You...you said you'd go slow," you shrieked into his ear.

He turned his head slightly and nodded as though he'd heard your complaint. Then he fell in line with a group of bikers.

Much to your chagrin, they soon flanked both sides, whooping and whistling at you. The display unnerved you, breath coming in short spurts as you squeezed your eyes shut against their hungry looks and lewd hand gestures.

Sensing your tension, Benny reached a hand back to stroke your leg, lifting your dress to expose your bare thigh. The other bikers leered back at you, grease stained hands gripping the handles of their motorcycles harshly and you wondered what they would be capable of if they caught you.

Benny's head tilted back, a wolf cry leaving his triumphant lips. As soon as it met your ears, you cowered in fear, knowing this had all been a big mistake."D-do you know them?" you asked, afraid of the answer.

"Course I do," he called back to you with a devilish grin. "We're all gonna have a real good time tonight."

"We going to a party or something?" you asked suspiciously, pressing into him for safety.

Benny's cock stirred the moment you began to hiss into his ear, using all his self control not to pull off the road and take you there. However, he knew the Vandals' rules well. Everyone shared on the first night.

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

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[feroluce]

Given that Belobog is so full of snow, I'm kinda sad we never get to see any snowmen anywhere. Like that would have made for such a cute bg decoration!

And I think it would be especially funny for Sampo to make them, not out of pure, innocent whimsy and joy, but like specifically to be a menace smzhnsjd

Like Gepard keeps finding little snowmen out around the frontlines. And normally he would just turn a blind eye to this like he does with other things (like the shitty amateur distillery no one thinks he knows about); war sucks, their own damn leader is trying to kill them and Gepard is treading water just trying to keep Cocolia from using his guards as cannon fodder. If his soldiers want to make some snowmen in their downtime, then they should be allowed that. God knows they've earned it.

BUT SOMEONE IS MAKING SNOWMEN THAT LOOK LIKE HIM, DAMMIT!!!

Gepard keeps finding them down the back alleys and more hidden parts of the frontlines! And they all have the same grumpy little face, with blue-painted rocks for eyes and sometimes even gold-colored bullet casings for hair! And he knows who it is the second he finds another little blue haired, green eyed snowman next to it! Fuckin' Koski is sneaking in here, and easily enough that he has the time to taunt him!

Gepard once found a little Snow Geppie with angry eyebrows and red roses stuck in its blushing cheeks that was handcuffed to a weapons rack, which was when he realized someone had pickpocketed his handcuffs. He punches the head clean off the little Snow Sampo nearby, only to discover that it is also holding his wallet, minus all the shield he'd had in it that morning. Gepard kicks it for good measure.

One time he found a little Snow Sampo offering roses to a little Snow Geppie, and he quickly knocked those over too before anyone else could see them or his red face. He swears he can feel Sampo snickering and mocking him nearby.

Sometimes, Gepard finds little Snow Sampos with tiny sacks thrown over their shoulders, all filled with items that are SUPPOSED to be in the depths of the guarded Silvermane storehouses. Sampo technically isn't even stealing anything, he's just showing Gepard that he could if he wanted to, and poor Gepard is going to pop an aneurysm.

Pela: Good morning, Captain. Have you been outside of your tent yet?

Gepard: No. ....Why.

Pela: No reason. Say, have you heard of any break ins recently?

Gepard: No, why.

And Pela holds open the tent flap and there's a ton of tiny little Silvermane Guards snowmen in tight neat rows, all with their little stick arms up in salute, and each one with an actual, stolen official helmet-mask.

Pela: You run a real tight ship out here, huh.

Gepard: (looooong weary muffled sigh as he drags a hand down his face)

[graylinesspam]

Terracotta soldier AU from Rex's pov

Rex has never made his mind up on any idea of faith. Not the kind in a higher power at least. He'd had faith in his brothers. That's why he carried on their traditions. Long after most of them had gone when so many names had been lost to a relatively short period of time. He recites all that he can remember.

He speaks the name of each brother into the cold night air and promises that he will see them at the end of the long march.

It might not be a proper religion. But its all he has left.

And Rex is a man of his word. When he exhales his last lonely breath into the darkness his eyes going blind and his chest still, his legs are the first things he's aware of. The familiar pump of muscles.

One foot in front of the other. Like learning to walk all over again. There's a sea of white as far as the eye can see. A great blinding glare that moves all around him. But slowly it solidifies. The shape of helmets crawling over each other until they start to look like men, One in front of another. Stretching in every direction. Forever.

There isn't enough of him here to really be conscious. There aren't really thoughts in his mind. Just echoes of instincts. Like the instinct to put on foot in front of the other. The instinct to blink until his sight adjusts to the view.

It's the colors slowly emerging that draw his attention. It bleeds through the light one spot at a time. Slowly markings appear on the armor of the men around him. Blue and red and green and gold. One after another. A red circle on the pauldron beside him, a blue line up another arm.

It tickles something within him. Blue. He was blue too right? Once.

He wants to follow the blue. That's where he belongs. The mass of troops shudder once to the side, every line of men staggering one to the right another to the left. Reshuffling themselves like cards. Slipping between each other in interlocking lines. Moving forward. Always forward with ever unified foot fall. But shifting too. reaching out toward each other.

He shifts to the right toward the blue stripe who shifts as well in the same direction, farther ahead now. But there is more blue around both of them. Lines spreading around him like on interconnected web. countless troopers stacked on each other like the solders on playing cards. Shuffling around each other all looking for their own suit.

Always moving forward always together.

The blue solidifies as they shuffle around each other. Filling in the gaps until there's as much of it as there is white. He is blue. He is the blue. They are the blue. All existing here in this place together. Every piece in place.

It felt right. This is where he was always supposed to be. just one among the blue.

They march on forever. Everywhere. Far far away. Everywhere at once. Him among the blue. The blue among the white. Don't all colors come together to make white? Or is that only inside the light?

He marches. One foot in front of forever; one foot behind always.

Moving so much in sync it's like they aren't moving at all.

If everything is moving in the same direction at the same speed then is any of it really moving. What is still if nothing is?

Except....except something is. He sees it because it's blue, he thinks. He is blue and they are all blue. So of course he sees the blue.

It's not moving. It's not with them. That's wrong. They are all blue together.

His feet shuffle him again. Cards in the hands of the collective folding into themselves. There is no edge of everything. Everything is everything. it goes on forever. There is no end. But if there was, that's where he finds the blue.

She stands still. The only thing in everything that isn't moving. She needs to move. With them. He takes another unified step foreword and he is past her now. Marching away.

No. That's not right. He tries to shuffle again but there is no behind. The march is forward. All moving forward with every step. Always one foot in front of the other. He tries to look back but there is no back.

But there is. He can feel it. He can feel her a single steadiness in the flow. Parting the blue. Being among but not part of.

That's not right. He should tell her. Maybe she doesn't remember how. Maybe she doesn't have the word for foot like he didn't have the word blue until he saw it again.

But he can't tell her if she's still back there. He has to get to her. Every step takes him farther away but he knows that isn't right either. He needs to stop.

As soon as he thinks it he does. His feet stuck between always and forever. The cards shuffle around him. Moving on and leaving him behind. He...he is sad about that.

But it's okay. If Everything is always then back is always too. He turns back seeing the faces moving towards him for the first time in forever. He knows them. The faces.

Fives.

Hardcase.

Jesse.

Kix.

Tup.

They see him. See his face for the first time in forever and they stop too. Their feet stalling in time. Behind all of them, way back, he sees her. She's still there. Standing. Waiting patiently.

He remembers how to do this. It's the only thing he remembered before he saw anything here. Marching is easy. One foot....He doesn't know where forever or always are. One foot goes....Infront.

He takes a step and feels like he's learning it all over again. He forgets what the next step is. One foot in front is all his mind conjures. So he tries again. One at a time. One step, two, three.

He walks past the face. the ones moving and those standing still. She's waiting for him. He has to get back to her. He marches towards her....Ahsoka. And it isn't easy like it was before. It isn't everything always. But it is him. It is Rex. He'd forgotten that.

He is Rex. Rex follows Ahsoka.

He will walk back through forever to get to her.

One foot behind forever one foot in front of always. The wrong way. His way. Backwards.

There's another one following him. Another foot falling backwards. He can feel it disrupting the flow with him. One foot after another. One man after another. The blue warps and bends against it's self. Fracturing into a thousand pieces. Breaking away from everything. Becoming singular.

Rex marches back to Ahsoka and Fives follows. They all follow one by one. They are the blue. The 501st. Torrent company. Medics and pilots and snipers. Heavy gunner and scouts. They are men. Soliders. They are singular in the constant flow of everything all the time.

And Ahsoka waits patiently for them to remember.

To remember their names. Each others names. Her name.

She's reciting them.

Rex forgot he could speak. He forgot he could say names.

She says them one by one. "...Oppo, slate, cadaver, coric..."

Rex says them too just to hear them. "Dogma, Hawk, Limp, Chatter..."

Maybe that's how he saw her in the first place. Past all of the blue. Because she said his name. Remembered it for him.

Fives speaks, discovering his voice too. Then Jesse.

Most of the blue stops. Every one Ahsoka remembered then every one each of them remembered until the blue had bled out of the white. Outside of Everything and forever.

"You've all served your time. Served it long and well." She says when there are no more names, "You have earned your rest. But I have a mission. And I am asking for your help. I'm asking you to come back with me."

"Ahsoka" Rex says.

He remembers reciting her name. When he thought she was dead. Hoping if there was something after, then he could at least see her one last time.

Fives says it too. Then Jesse. All the way down the line they say her name. "Ahsoka"

Rex reaches a hand out to her and almost glows when it touches her shoulder. She is solid. Not made of light. Made of something more solid.

He's...he's solid too right? He thinks they were all solid together once. He knocks his vambrace against his chest plate to check and is pleased when it rattles. He hits it again just to hear the noise.

And it grows. One at a time. It rattle far too solid to exist within forever. It is fleeting as temporary as the collision that causes it. It only exists so long as they create it.

He remembers another word. One that isn't a name.

"Oya" he shouts just to hear it.

and it grows

Because He is Rex and Rex follows Ahsoka.

[laswells-ashtray]

Hello again! :D

I'm the one who mentioned about the reactor mission and was ranting about cod, also sorry that I made you have to get your glasses 😅. (I have a really bad habit of apologizing to practically everything even if someone tells me that something I do is fine or for absolutely no reason)

Anyways, I have a question about John Price. Since you've mentioned on multiple posts that his father was not good to him, do you think Price ever celebrated his birthday or was given anything during the occasion growing up? Or do you think that as he grew up he never saw the point about it until accidentally mentioning it to his team or even Mac during his time as a sargent (idk if that's how it's spelled) while extremely drunk. (Also I mentioned Mac cause I remember you saying that you like writing him cause you don't have to go all proper British English lol)

I also have a question for you specifically, what's your favorite color/s and your favorite dinosaur?

Hope you're having a good day or night so far! :)

Also I love the dinosaur drawings, they're adorable. Making me wanna draw them with how cute the little diplodocus is. Just wanna squish their little cheeks.

Helloooooo, you've set yourself up for a rant here so I apologise in advance. Firstly, no need to apologise for me having to grab my glasses I'm just partially blind as shit. I can see the words but without glasses, it's hard to focus on them or process them without the spectacles.

Secondly, I have autism and OCD so my favourite colours are sorted into tiers based on importance as are my favourite dinosaurs. Top tier colours are blue-toned purples, dark red, black [technically not a colour but that's a whole other conversation], teal and forest green. My top-tier dinosaurs are the t-rex, spinosaurus, diplodocus, ankylosaurus and velociraptors. They're basic but they're goated. Sorry, I had to have five colours and five dinosaurs or it'd grate on me.

I am having a relatively good day and I wish the same for you :]

"What is this?" John looks far too taken aback for such a simple gesture. Concern spreads across the young sergeant's face as he looks over Mac's desk.

It's nothing special, he hadn't wanted to overwhelm the younger man with some big surprise party or dragging them all out for birthday drinks. There are two takeout containers, both from the Indian takeaway that John had sheepishly admitted he was fond of one night. On "John's side" of the desk there's a small black box, no name or brand across the packaging.

"It's yer birthday dinner, noo get yer arse on the chair. It's getting cauld."

John closes the door behind him and hesitantly sits down, looking between the takeout container and the suspiciously plain black box beside it.

"What's in the box?"

He offers the Englishman a soft smile as he nudges the box towards his hand. "It's yer birthday, son. Yer supposed tae open it and say thank you."

John had let it slip the last time they went drinking after a mission gone right, mentioned that his birthday was coming up and how he'd never done anything for it. He'd never wanted to the older he got.

The sergeant narrows his eyes at him, a faint hint of frustration visible in the tenseness of his shoulders. There was a reason he'd made it a quiet, one-on-one celebration. The lad would've lashed out in front of a group.

But John, ever the good soldier follows his order and opens the box cautiously. He watches John register the gift and look back up to him, face full of painfully youthful confusion.

"What's this?"

He sighs, eyes flicking between John and the watch he's holding. It's a simple thing, a plain watch with a brown leather strap. Sophisticated but still casual.

"It's a watch. Ma father bought me wan on my eighteenth, ye should've got wan on yours. If yer auld man willnae step up then a'll just huv tae, every gid man deserves a watch. Yours is just a wee bit late."

For both their sakes he pretends not to notice the wet shine to John's eyes before he blinks rapidly and suddenly it's gone.

"Thanks." He utters softly, ever so carefully placing the watch back in the box. He knows the lad will put it on in his own time, try it on and stare at it as if it's some kind of unfathomable gift of riches instead of a simple watch from his superior. That was John's right, something he had to process in his own time.

"Eat up, son. Yer tea's getting cauld."

[hwajin]

— somebody to you

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ✦ :: — bang chan | 4k follower event

genre: fluff

pairing: chan x gn!reader

Sun against your skin, the smell of watermelon and strawberry all around, mixed with salty breeze, with calming air. You were warm, blinded by sunlight, feet occasionally flooded with a wave of ocean. Accompanied with sounds of seagulls, of children buying ice cream, playing in the water, of couples talking and laughing, of families discussing - accompanied by the love of your life.

Chan's presence always clear beside you, even if you didn't see him. His body always close to your own, grazing a fingertip over your exposed skin, running a palm of sunscreen against your body caressing face, playing with hair. Not a moment passed where his touch wasn't on you, subtle loving, delicate. Not a moment when his giggle didn't feel your ears when your body jerked at his sudden contact, unexpectant, surprising. It was peace, it was love, it was everything you'd ever want - to be his, to call him yours.

A polaroid of you in the back of his phonecase when he took a picture of you, unknowing to you, lying by the beach with your glasses on, dozing off, in the comfort of sun and summer, his presence. Adding the picture to the folder dedicated to you and he smiled at it, stupidly enamoured, utterly hopeless. You were everything he'd ever wish for, had spent years upon years wishing on your love until you had granted it to him. Cherishing seconds he had with you, moments so so trivial yet deeming most precious.

Sharing kisses as the day got older, sun sinking behind horizon and you didn't wish to leave for home, not yet, not ever. Wanting every moment with him to last lifetimes, wanting his closure forever, wanting his lips on you until your final breath. Mouths swollen as time passed, red and puffed though it didn't stop you. Sharing kisses as the sun went down, as the ocean fell from green to blue to black, as every soul has left two lovers lay by the shore, seagulls and waves your only company - though each other was enough, for now and for endless years to come.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @happycandynoelle

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #14

(Had this idea on the brain as soon as I woke up this morning. This prompt is basically going off of the idea that the ghost zone is the dimension that connects all dimensions.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

✦

Living in Technicolor

When Danny gets zapped by the portal and brought back half alive, his vision is forever changed. He doesn't know what caused it, just that ever since the accident, his sight has been split into three different perspectives.

1. His home dimension

2. The ghost zone/invisible spectrum

3. Another dimension entirely

He had originally been able to peer into more than three perspectives directly after his accident, but that resulted in his brain more or less short-circuiting from all the extra information and putting him in a week long coma. Still, even with the decreased load, the amount of information that's being filtered through his eyes and into his brain from three different plains of existence leaves him legally blind in his original reality and needing the help of either a cane or his service dog, Cujo.(1 & 2)

It isn't until his powers start appearing that he learns something interesting. If he concentrates enough, he can shift/manifest his own existence into whichever perspective he's focusing on the most when he transforms, singling his vision down to one perspective for the duration. He has to be careful though, otherwise he could get stuck in-between, which scrambles his vision to an even more nauseating degree. That or he could cause himself to blackout just from the amount of stress it puts on his mind.

He's basically his own dimension hopping portal though.

The only thing is, he never hopped over to the other dimension that seemed to exist alongside his own and the Ghost Zone, content to just travel between his dimension and the Infinite Realms. That doesn't mean he wasn't interested in it or didn't take a more concentrated peek into it from time to time though. Cause let's be honest. A world full of superheroes defending the Earth from a multitude of threats? He'd be lying if he said he didn't use the opportunity to observe and learn from a few of the professionals when it came to his own defending of the ghostly variety.

It isn't until long after he becomes the Ghost King that he is approached by Clockwork, the Ghost of Time. He reveals he knows of Danny's ability to peer into the multiverse like the time ghost can, although greatly limited in comparison. He offers to make Danny his apprentice and to teach him what it means to see through the veil into different universes and timelines, and perhaps increase the amount of perspectives he can handle at once now that his power has increased exponentially. He is King of the Infinite Realms after all. He needs to properly oversee his domain and everything connected to it if he wants to be a good monarch. However, the only way to increase the number of perspectives he can handle is by experiencing each one first hand.

The first step? Shifting into the dimension he has yet to visit, the one he's been peering into and learning so much from over the years.

✦

Notes:

(1) Here, Danny gets Cujo before he becomes a security dog/a ghost.

(2) He eventually creates some specially designed glasses with color changing lenses that help him filter out the extra perspectives when he's older, but they're far from perfect. Red for home reality, Green for the Ghost Zone, and Blue for DC Universe/other universes.

ALSO, while this is technically a dp x dc crossover prompt, I wanted to keep it pretty open for any other crossover ideas. There's infinite possibilities here and I'd love to see what people come up with!

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Interpretations of the red comet:

Daenerys:

Jhogo spied it first." There" he said in a husted voice. Dany looked and saw it low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red; the dragon's tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign.

AGOT, DAENERYS X

It is the herald of my coming, she told herself as she gazed up the night sky with wonder in her heart. The gods have send it to show me the way.

ACOK, DAENERYS I

Maester Cressen:

An omen of blood,foretelling murder...yes

ACOK, PROLOGUE

Ser Arys Oakheart:

[Sansa]"What do you think it means?"she asked him.

"Glory to your bethrothed" Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the Gods themselves have raised a banner in his honor[...]

ACOK, SANSA I

Smallfolk on Kings Landing:

[Ser Arys]" The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's comet".

Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's tail".

ACOK, SANSA I

Osha:

[...]The way she said it made him silver, and when he asked what he comet meant, she answered" Blood and fire, boy, and nothing sweet"

ACOK, BRAN I

Septon Chayle:

Bran asked Septon Chayle about the comet while they were sorting through some scrolls snatched from the library fire. "It is the sword that slays the season", he replied and soon after the white raven came from Oldtown, bringing word of autumn, so doubtless he was right.

ACOK, BRAN I

Old Nan:

Through Old Nan did not think so, and she'd lived longer than any of them. "Dragons" she said lifting her head and sniffing. She was near blind and could not see the comet, yet she claimed she could smell it."It be dragons, boy" she insisted. Bran got no princes from Nan, no more than he ever had.

ACOK, BRAN I

Greatjon Umber, Edmure Tully, Catelyn Stark and Brynden Tully:

[Catelyn]"The Greatjon told Robb that the old gods have unfurled a red flag of vengeance for Ned. Edmure thinks it's an omen for victory for Riverrun - he sees a fish with a long tail, in the tully colors, red against blue."She sighed . "I wish I had their faith. Crimson is a Lannister color".

"That thing's not crimson" Ser Brynden said.Nor Tully red, the mud red of the river. That's blood up there, child, smeared across the sky".

ACOK, CATELYN I

Theon Greyjoy:

It's my comet, Theon told himself, sliding a hand into his fur-lined coat to touch the oilskin pouch snug in its pocket.

ACOK, THEON I

Selyse Florent:

Queen Selyse was adamant" None of them was chosen by R'hllor. No red comet blazed across the heavens to herald their coming. None of them wielded the Lightbringer, the red sword of heroes.And none of the paid the price. Lady Melisandre will tell you, my lord.Only death can pay for life".

ASOS, DAVOS V

Melisandre:

[Melisandre]"You are he who must stand against the Other. The one whose coming was prophesied five thousand years ago. The red comet was your herald. You are the prince that was promised and if you fail, the world falls with you".

ASOS, DAVOS VI

Aeron Greyjoy:

The priest had dreamed the same dream, when he'd first seen the red comet in the sky. We shall sweep over the green lands with fire and sword, root out the seven gods from the septons and the white trees of the northmen...

AFFC, THE DROWNED MAN

[clickoly]

Fic-O-Ween - Day 12

Many thanks to @noots-fic-fests for the header and the fantastic fest! And to @lumosinlove for these beautiful characters 🧡

The year was 1464, in the European capital of the Renaissance, when a young artist and a man destined to Magnificence fell in love, challenging their destiny. 

Pairing: FinnLo Rating: M, but it's very lightly seasoned Watch out for the final line: this isn't quite a happily ever after (yet)

Finn had been staring at the canvas for far too long. The sun had risen high in the sky, and the bright rays streaming through the window cast the perfect shadows over his work in progress. 

Why did everything feel so blurry?

The verdigris pigment he'd mixed on his palette was too bright, the malachite wasn't enough. And the half-painted eyes of a young Dionysus were staring right back at him. 

"I know," Finn sighed. He was tapping his chin with the handle of a brush in an uneven rhythm. "I am being dramatic," he muttered to no one in particular. Alex always made fun of him for that. He looked around, still unsure of what he was searching for, what he was missing. Between empty wooden panels, endless sheets of paper and the pungent, earthy smell of tempera paints, a revelatory answer was nowhere to be found. Another exasperated breath escaped his lips, "Perhaps a hint of blue?"

"It must be some serious commission if you're talking with yourself." 

Finn jerked towards the front door. 

"Again, dare I say."

"Ah," he began, then had to stop to steady his breath. He bit back what must have been a foolishly smitten grin. "Blame my Muse," Finn opted for a mocking smile instead, as playful as the voice that had just enlightened his soul. "Gone so long, I'm afraid I have lost my touch," he gestured to the unfinished portrait. "And perhaps some sense." 

The nest of Logan's curls shook in a scolding nod. Slowly, savoring each step, he closed the too vast, one month-long distance between them, holding out a hand as his eyes darted across the painting. "Dionysus, I see.”

Finn let go of his instruments and reached out, catching Logan's hand a little shakily. God, had he missed him.

"Isn't he fascinating?" he said, turning to admire the interplay of colors as well. "The most delicate balance between hedonism and chaos, abundance and intoxication." 

"Wine and sex," Logan paraphrased. He made Finn laugh—real and spontaneous as only he could. "Sounds fun."

"Uninhibited and wild. Sounds familiar," Finn teased, leaning down to kiss the back of Logan's hand, whose warmth enveloped him. 

"He looks familiar," Logan countered, closely focused on the details of Finn's artwork. Dark hair, curling beneath a crown of verdant grapevines. Full, red lips drawn into a delicate smile, the arch of a perfectly shaped bow. A muscular, artfully proportioned body, the immortal and timeless beauty that belonged only to gods. Finn hadn't exactly tried to be subtle about it. 

"It's missing something unique, though," he whispered as he turned to cup Logan's jaw between his chalk-stained hands. He brushed gentle thumbs along the sharp contours of his cheeks, already lost in the brilliance of the rarest gems he'd ever laid eyes on. "Oh, never mind." 

The most perfect shade of green.

"Found it," he breathed out against Logan's lips and brought their mouths together in a tender kiss. "Hi, angel. You came back to me." 

Logan's smile blinded him—the slightest hint of bashfulness just there, the soft blush on his olive skin, never fading away, even after such a long time. "Always," Logan mumbled into another kiss, pulling Finn close as if to never let go. "And I brought a surprise." 

"For me?"  

Logan hummed softly and let Finn brush their noses together with feathery strokes. "But you have to follow me first." 

"Where?" Finn prompted, leaning back enough to twirl a finger in the perfect lock of hair that fell over Logan's forehead. He couldn't help it—the wave of anticipation hit him hard, burning wildly in his chest. He would have followed Logan to the edge of the world, through hell and heaven, to faraway lands unknown to mankind. 

And judging by the look of devotion that spread across his face, Logan was well aware of that. It didn't stop him from playing the little banter that was theirs to live in—a breath of fresh air, a safe place to revel. He pinched Finn's waist, amusement now filling his crooked smile. "I'm not telling you." 

And then Finn had to worry, just a little. Because Logan had probably been traveling for days and he looked exhausted and in desperate need for sleep. He wanted to hold him in his arms, to erase the tired furrow from his brows and let him glow in his celestial beauty. 

"Are you sure?" he leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Don't you need some rest?" 

Logan just grabbed the collar of Finn's shirt and captured his lips in a fierce, biting kiss. "The only thing I need right now is you."

The ride into the countryside had felt timeless—up to the browned hill that rose just outside the ancient city walls. Though it must have been a brief journey. Side by side, riding their horses along golden paths, restless hands finding each other again and again in swift touches, brushing against the crisp air. 

The vibrant greens and browns of endless vineyards and terraces of majestic olive trees set the perfect backdrop for Logan's strong features against the afternoon light. Behind them, the outlines of a fading Florence, whose monumental beauty was inescapable, perfectly framed Logan's tales of his latest trip to France, spilling forth like leaves caught in the gentle winds of autumn.    

Oh, the sea. You would have loved Marseilles. I must take you there, my love. 

Yes, French wine is good, but it would taste better on your lips. 

Mais oui. I will teach you all the new words I have learned. 

I missed you too. 

I don't want to leave you for so long ever again. 

Sometimes it was days, more often weeks, of duties to fulfill somewhere too far away. Leaders to befriend, alliances to forge. The fourth and youngest child of the Tremblay family, the leading voice of the Republic, had to learn the ropes of the family business alongside his older sisters. A kind soul in thick armor, Logan was a powerful, beloved statesman to the people of Florence, a Cupid's favorite to the greedy eyes of wealthy and charming suitors all over Europe. And a devoted, passionate lover to Finn O'Hara.

Logan had more than once called them a life worth cherishing. But was the undying love of a young artist enough for such a privilege? 

At a loss for real answers, Finn knew only one truth. Then, in the midst of pristine, whistling nature, they fell in love for the umpteenth time. There, in a boundless corner of a rusty heaven, Finn allowed himself to be just a man, drowning in the glorious lust of two bounding souls.

~

A small palmate leaf, dried-out of its bright colors, fell silently on Logan's sleepy head, nestling in his messy curls. It broke the peace of his even breathing when Finn's graceful fingers reached out to brush it away, and down Logan's face in feathery patterns where it wasn't pressed against his bare chest. 

At the first hint of movement, Finn turned his head to press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cold nose. 

"Did I fall asleep?" Logan murmured hoarsely. Slowly, groggily, he stirred against Finn's body and squeezed his arm tighter around him. 

"Last I checked, those pretty eyes of yours were very much closed."  

A grunt of disagreement rumbled against Finn's skin, "No—it's your fault. It's so warm in here."

And it was. A cocoon of blankets and intertwined bodies beneath a clear sky and a fresh breeze. 

"Can we stay?" 

"As long as you wish," Finn promised. 

"What about you?"

Finn rolled slightly onto his side and rubbed a hand up and down Logan's back under the thick wool. "What about me?" 

Logan squinted one eye open, "I can hear you thinking out loud." 

"Sketching," Finn corrected. "I got my Muse back, after all." 

Logan tentatively smothered his ticklish smile down Finn's pale neck. When he finally pulled back and blinked his dream-laden eyes open, it was to reach sneakily behind their heads and grab Finn's notebook from his satchel. "Show me," he settled back into Finn's waiting arms. "I want to see everything I've missed."

Curled up in his touch, Logan flipped through pages of black carbon sketches and rivers of disorganized notes while Finn told him stories about those faces, landscapes, anonymous bodies whose proportions he had been meticulously studying and trying to replicate for months. 

As expected, Logan lingered over the outlines of a portrait, the first messy, smudged draft of one of his latest commissions. "Is that Adonis?" He asked, somehow in awe. 

Finn stifled his laughter with a loud kiss on Logan's burning cheek. "That's what I thought when I first saw him. But this man? Oh, he was even better. Imagine..." he said dreamily, tracing a light finger along the darkest lines of his drawing. "A tall, young, cherubic angel with deep, cerulean eyes walking into my studio..." 

Finn felt Logan press closer to him. "Who is he?"

"His name is Leonardo. He came all the way from Venice to Florence in search of a manuscript," Finn said wonderingly. "Actually, he was on his way to the Apostolic Library. He's a philologist, and he's working on translating fragments of a Greek poetess whose work is quite unknown. He left for Rome a few days ago." 

"Hm," Logan grumbled. "And what could he possibly be doing in your studio?" 

An amused smile played on Finn's lips. "He asked if I could draw him and paid me to pose for a portrait. He wanted a small memento of his time in Florence and said my art sounded like the notes of a lyric poem." 

Another wave of delight washed over Finn as Logan lifted himself up on one forearm and pinned him to the ground with a piercing look. "It does," he whispered softly, leaning in to brush their mouths together. "And so do you." 

Glittering sparks simmered inside Finn, and Logan's kisses burned like oil on a living flame, explosive, so consuming that he felt he had no air left to breathe when Logan suddenly pulled away. "Wait here," he said faintly, leaving Finn shivering at the loss of contact. 

Logan slipped out of the intricate tangle of sheets they had bundled themselves in and stood up—a perfectly sculpted marble statue, glowing in the golden light the sun was casting all over the hard planes and hills of his body. He walked barefoot to the horses, peacefully resting in the shade of a tree. He carefully took something from his saddlebag, and ran with three long strides back to Finn, where they sat together with their legs crossed.

Finn draped a blanket over their shoulders and wrapped them in a gentle embrace. "You're going to catch a cold," he scolded, just as he noticed the small velvet pouch in Logan's hands. "What is it?" 

Logan simply looked at him for a few moments, motionless, a whole world flashing behind his glazed eyes. "Did I ever tell you how much I love this time of year?" 

"I think the first time you did, we were thirteen," Finn laughed, but let his eyes wander around, imagining what Logan might actually feel in front of such a special blend of colors. He wanted the same emotions to strike him as much. "But you never told me why." 

Logan smiled, a tender, shy curl of his full lips. "It feels like home," he said, drawing a long breath as he lovingly caressed Finn's face, "where there's warmth to look at...to look for when it's cold outside. This," he nodded to a pile of reddish leaves under an almost bare beech, "feels like nature showing us the beauty of hope when everything is falling down. And you," Logan whispered, wide eyes locked with Finn's, struck by golden strings. "It always feels like there are pieces of you everywhere." 

Finn found himself with only a thin thread of voice, trembling. "Logan." 

"Here," Logan handed him the pouch. It was dark green, the fabric smooth, and it felt almost empty to the touch, were it not for a small, round object at the bottom. Finn deftly untied its strings when Logan added, "This is your surprise." 

"Another one? Is it better than this?" He looked around at the private, dreamlike spot Logan had found for the two of them. "Are you trying to spoil—oh." 

On Finn's palm landed a perfectly polished band of gold. Set in the metal, brighter than a starry night, were three dazzling, fiery rubies. 

Logan took the ring between his fingers and Finn's hand in his own, all the while Finn couldn't form a coherent thought that wasn't What did I do to deserve you?

"I asked the jeweler of the King of France himself. I wanted something special made just for you, and this saintly man—Pascal, he said was his name. He listened to me," Logan gave a soft laugh, "rambling on about the love of my life for longer than any good man should endure. And he made this," he stroked the gold band. "For my Rouge." 

"For your..."

Logan ran his fingers through Finn's hair, "My Red. Pascal taught it to me." 

Finn squeezed Logan's hand tighter. If he opened his mouth, he was going to cry. 

The love of my life. 

"Finn," Logan's voice was breaking into tears as well, but his eyes made no move to look away. "You have been by my side since I have memories. I can't foresee the future... I don't know what my fate will be. But I do know that I want you to be a part of it." 

A tear fell heavily down Finn's cheek. It made everything feel real—too real to be just a dream.

"One day," Logan wiped away that love-filled tear. "One day, I promise," he kissed the ring and slowly slid it onto his pale, freckled finger. "I promise, I will marry you." 

Oh, so this is what it feels like to be immortal. Elation, a slight tremor, the promise of eternal bliss.

"Close your eyes," Finn managed with a faint scrape of his voice. He couldn't help the soft laugh that burst out right after, tearful yet wholehearted. 

Logan held him close, looking as confused as intrigued by his reaction. "What are you..."

"Close your eyes," he urged again. He pulled back enough to find his satchel with a shaking hand and dug into the small pocket where he had hidden it. The pendant was a bit coarse, but the silver reflected the warm tones of the sunset almost perfectly. Finn slid the black leather cord over Logan's head, and the small fleur-de-lis bounced lightly on his chest. Logan caught it between his fingers almost instantly.

"Finn..."

"It's nothing like this," he kissed his ring where Logan had placed it, "but I shaped it myself," he said proudly. "Well... to be completely honest, the blacksmith helped me a little. But mostly he made sure I didn't get fatally hurt." 

Logan's disbelieving laughter warmed Finn all over. In his ears, it carried echoes of indelible memories—long walks between fields of white lilies and stolen, timid first kisses.

"But he also said you are very lucky to have me, so... I'll be there," Finn said solemnly. "With or without me, you're destined for the greatest achievement a man could inspire. And I will be here," he pressed his palm over the pendant on Logan's chest, "whatever awaits us out there."

"And when I have you, and you have me..." Logan's voice quivered with a choked breath. 

"What's the worst that could happen?" 

A whisper, Logan's tender lips on Finn's temple, calling forever and sealing a fate.

One they couldn't know wasn't meant to be theirs. 

[oneatlatime]

The Blue Spirit

Before we get into the episode, a couple of thoughts that have been rattling around my brain: -Last episode was heavy. I need jokes please. -it's been a while since I've seen a hybrid animal. I thought those were going to be a running gag. -It's been a while since there has been any gorgeous background art. -The last couple of episodes have really pushed Sokka and Katara to the background. I'm missing the ensemble style episodes.

Episode time!

It's Zhao. Hi asshole. Actually this conversation is touching on something I've been wondering about:

The fire nation has bigger fish to fry than a quarter-trained 12 year old.

If this whole episode happens at night time I'm going to really miss my CRT.

Zhao is now turbo asshole. Also there's a weird blue cat on his roof.

Imagine having a sick day on an Appa couch. Heavenly. And where are they hiding this time? Why is there a giant tapestry?

Looks like this won't be much of a Sokka episode.

Not going to be a Katara episode either. This is a novel way of benching your side characters.

How does airbending make you go faster? I could see earthbending making you faster, just by moving your running surface, but how does Aang do it?

I do like roadrunner shenenigannery.

Momo doesn't understand English confirmed. Also he has green-tinted vision? Do his irises coat his pupils? That would be weird.

Behold! A non-hydrid animal.

"It's been almost an hour and you haven't given the men an order." Ouch. Burn.

I'm not much of a Zuko fan, but even I have to admit that this is a sucky situation in a long line of sucky situations. You have to feel for him here.

Frog popsicles. Did not see that coming. Note the lack of hybridity.

Now he looks like those arrow guys.

Using aerial weaponry against an airbender seems really stupid. I guess they've got numbers one their side.

Is literally everybody in this world a professionally trained acrobat? Do all four nations include that in the school curriculum?

Compensating?

Could the action wait until morning please? I can't see.

Zhao doubling down on the asshole behaviour. Not cool. Keeping someone barely alive in captivity for as long as possible has to be some sort of war crime. Waging a war for a century against an entire planet is probably also a war crime, so again, bigger fish. There are assholes that are entertaining to watch and fun to root for, and assholes that are just plain mean. Zhao is now firmly in the latter category.

Poor Momo is trying his best. Zhao's right about there being no one to rescue Aang this time though. Even Appa's benched by babysitting duties.

The blue cat is back. Clinging to the underside of a moving cart using just your fingernails has got to be murder on the hands.

Good lord these guards are blind. This episode is too dark for me to see anything but I still saw blue cat guy hot foot it into the compound. His mask even has white parts.

Oh god he's monologuing. Blegh. Although convenient for blue cat guy. A desire to monologue may be Zhao's most consistent character trait.

Did the frogs do that?

The hallway-that-eats-our-guys just ate one of our guys. What should we do? How about send two more of our guys down the hallway-that-eats-our-guys? And leave only one to guard the door keeping the world's most powerful bender contained? Sounds good.

CAT.

He extinguished that guy! That gets funnier the more I think about it. All that fancy bending, years of training, and your fatal weakness is a bucket.

Exactly how many of those sword flourishes were necessary?

I like the blue cat's theme music. It's some sort of wind instrument, a bit kazoo-like, but it sounds a lot like this plastic toy trumpet I had as a kid that I'd play with whenever I was mad at my parents. I loved that thing, but it mysteriously vanished one day.

Blue cat is doing some seriously precision sword bending. Imagine if he'd missed? How do you live down cutting off the Avatar's hands and feet?

It WAS the frogs! Caught red- um. Footed? Do frogs have hands?

The return of One Man Army Aang.

Blue cat is surprisingly go with the flow for having just been catapulted dozens of feet without warning. Stuck the landing too. Sort of.

I'm sure there's some fascinating fight choreography going on at the moment but I CAN'T SEE IT.

Aang can briefly function as a load-bearing helicopter. Briefly.

So… how many of these guards are dead?

I am a dumb! How did I NOT see that coming? I am dumb! Much dumb!

Turns out there is one hairstyle worse than Zuko's usual.

In addition to roadrunnering, helicoptering, and ladderwalking, Aang can also carry someone taller and heavier than him at high speeds while fleeing the enemy. Is there anything airbending can't do?

Or maybe it was the frogs. Also I just realised that Fire Nation ships are shaped like Fire Nation shoes. I bet those shoes give you bunions.

Zuko was out for a WHILE. Might want to get that head wound checked out.

This hit unexpectedly hard. This episode's second surprisingly heavy scene. Can't they at least hug?

Was the kazoo-trumpet diagetic all along?

"Did you make any new friends?" "No. I don't think I did." Me:

Appa is your friend, not your toothbrush.

Final Thoughts

This was a character episode disguised as an action episode. Which I did not realise until I figured out that Blue cat man was Zuko all along.

Firebender Zuko has chihuahua energy. Blue Spirit Zuko has cat energy. Discuss.

Everyone needed a hug this episode. Including me. Except Zhao. Screw Zhao.

Zuko seems much more confident with those swords than he is with his fire. I don't mean to compare skill levels; I have no way of evaluating that. I mean he seems more sure of his movements with swords. Fire makes him shouty. Swords make him dance.

Can't really say much about Sokka and Katara this episode, although I do like that the reason they're out of commission is a direct consequence of last episode's exploits. Makes the through narrative feel more grounded if the small things as well as the large plot points have continuity/consequences.

Momo! Poor Momo. He really tried! Actually, I've been assuming, but is Momo a boy lemur?

I am utterly indifferent to the Arrow guys. Nice bit of stealthy worldbuilding, but I'll eat my hat if they ever recur.

This episode was The Storm part 2. Parallel angst threads concluding in the two mains staring contemplatively in silence after each other? Yep. Storm Part 2. This episode may have had even less humour than The Storm. I found the recurring frog jokes worked better than the Sokka and Katara are sick jokes.

I've been kind of nitpicky about this episode, but don't get me wrong, I did enjoy it. Kind of really ended on a downer though. It's also contributing to a growing suspicion of mine: would they pour all this development into Zuko, and set up a more powerful villain to take his place, if they meant for Zuko to stay the villain? The show started giving us insight into Zuko's character, and arguably a reason to pity him, at the same time as it gave us those things for Aang - The Southern Air Temple. This show has 60-some episodes. Would you humanise your villain in episode three if he was supposed to be the antagonist for the rest of the show's run? You could, but it would be a waste of writing energy. So what's going to happen? Is this war going to have three sides? I can't see Zuko fully switching sides, when his reasons for chasing Aang are so personal. Whatever Honour means in the fire nation, Zuko's only way to get it back seems to be capturing Aang. I can't think of anything Aang could give him that would be worth forever forfeiting his Honour.

I think this episode made the correct choice, in not having Zuko say anything when he wakes up in the forest with Aang. Like the end of the Southern Air Temple, and the end of (I think?) the Winter Solstice Part 2, some moments are enough - no dialogue needed. But - bear with me as I stray into fanfiction territory - wouldn't it be fascinating to hear the conversation Aang and Zuko might have had? And isn't it neat that Aang chose the conversational topic he did - not questioning why Zuko rescued him, but attempting to reach out? There was a choice made in his one-sided conversation with Zuko that I want to pick at. I can't put into words why I found that short scene so impactful. But I want to pick at it.

I'll be rewatching this episode on the CRT in my parents' basement when I can, because the brightness on my little laptop just does not go high enough. This episode was dark. Fittingly so, but still. I want to SEE.

[angstea]

stubborn hearted blue

Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood

Ship: 15Andy

Series: Auctober 2024

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i like it when you hold me tight

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Summary: The Doctor drags Andy out on a maybe-date that gets cut short

AN: The Doctor and Andy are both autistic

It's up to you whether or not Andy has synesthesia. I mainly just used it to influence my narration

Title is from Disco by Surf Curse

Written for Auctober Day 23: Synesthesia (when senses cross over, like seeing music or tasting colours. It's more common in autistics than allistics)

Read on AO3

Sickly green nausea swirled in Andy's stomach as he sipped his lemonade, watching the crowd on the dance floor.

Well, he wasn't really watching the crowd. He was keeping an eye out for the Doctor. Their burning presence was usually hard to miss but the neon rainbow of the club blurred them out.

Or maybe they just hadn't showed up. Maybe they just left Andy to sit in the corner of the club like an idiot, waiting for them until he got the message and gave up.

The nausea doubled and pushed up into his throat. He hadn't been this nervous in years. He took another sip of his lemonade, careful not to spill it because his hands were shaking. It tasted sharp and sour.

The Doctor had never let him down before, why would he imagine this to be any different. Maybe because this is the first time it clicked that this was a date. Well, it felt like one at least. Sure, friends went out all the time but something about the affection ringing in his ear when the Doctor asked over the phone had his head spinning with giddy rose-tinted glee.

"Andy!!"

Andy barely had time to respond to the Doctor's shout before he was enveloped in a hug. He narrowly avoided spilling his lemonade.

"Hiya, Doc." he smiled anxiously as the Doctor let him go. They didn't return it, their expression morosely blue. He already missed their blinding joy.

"You're nervous, honey." their eyes seemed to look right through Andy. He chuckled softly, drumming his fingers on the glass.

"You got me. Not really my sort of thing, this." he gestured vaguely to the surrounding chaos of the club. He didn't really go out much in his off time to begin with and even when he did, he preferred much calmer environments. This reminded him of breaking up drunken bar fights on an unfortunate Saturday night when he reluctantly picked up a late shift.

The Doctor smiled kindly. Andy knew it wasn't the intent but he couldn't help but feel a little patronised.

"I'll make sure you have a good time, babes. We can leave whenever."

Relief flooded through him at those four words. All day, he'd been dreading having to sit through the angry red haze of noise and people, smile fixed to his face and sipping fizzy drinks that stabbed at his throat before he finally broke and ordered something alcoholic and bitter to stop the judgmental looks.

The Doctor's soft smile broke into a bright golden grin and they took Andy's hand.

"Come and dance with me?"

-

The night was shaping up to end prematurely. Andy slumped into a chair, head spinning. He had written off the nausea as nerves and firmly decided to ignore it but it had been determined to make itself known until he started gagging, prompting the Doctor to guide him to sit down before scurrying off to grab him some water.

It wasn't like Andy had been drinking or anything, he'd been sipping on soft beverages (unlike the Doctor, though they seemed miraculously unaffected). He wasn't a fan of the idea of getting intoxicated, he'd seen enough people drunk for the idea to send white hot shame rocketing through his nervous system.

No, there was something else, he was sure of it. He just hoped he wasn't coming down with something.

A glass of water was shoved into his hands and the Doctor slid into the seat next to him, hand on his shoulder. The contact wasn't doing much, Andy got the sense they just wanted to stay close.

"How you feeling, honey?" they asked, honey toned concern flowing from their words. Andy tried to shake the looming grey fog from his mind, unable to think clearly.

"Terrible. Haven't felt this bad since my first time getting pissed." he laughed a little despite himself, though that just pulled a few harsh coughs from his lungs. He gulped down a little water, it was freezing.

"I'll get you home."

Andy nodded gratefully. "Home."

The Doctor pulled him to his feet, arm wrapped around Andy's waist to support him. He felt unsteady on his feet and a little dizzy, good thing the Doctor was strong. They were probably strong. Andy hadn't noticed. Allegedly. The fact that his face felt warm had absolutely nothing to do with the Doctor and everything to do with the stifling environment in the club.

Cool blue night air filled Andy's lungs and the sickness in his stomach lessened minutely. The TARDIS stood in an alley across the road. At least he didn't have to walk home.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

Just speed consumed all of addison lee very much enjoyed I am waiting with my popcorn for next chapter! I did have a wonder while reading, what is Wriothesley's scope of vision? Is it like this needs to be 3 inches in front of his face? Can he see faces clearly if he's close enough? Loving the fic, keep writing!

The short answer is:

No matter how close he gets, it's still gonna be unclear. It's not quite like myopia/short-sightedness where the blurriness can change with glasses/distance. His vision is more like looking through foggy glass. If something is pressed right up to the glass, you can see it more clearly, but it will still be foggy. Additionally, the guy has always been red/green colour-blind, so that doesn't change even after his war injuries, but because his vision is worse in general, he can barely tell colours apart lol. Unless it's bright blue.

LONG ANSWER UNDER THE CUT.

HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA HEHEHHHEHEHHE WHUAGHAHA sorry. I like to infodump about my fics.

Not kidding when say this: I have a document that have notes on every single year in the 10 years between the Celestia war and current INGITAL events.

Unfortunately this was all planned before Sigewinne release, so I didn't have her canon birthday (AND I DON'T CARE ABOUT CANON ANY MORE I'm burying my head in the sand.) but it accounts for every year that Sigewinne grew up and some other random lore bits. "What does this have to do with my question?" you ask. Well, I have the 10-years progression notes specifically to keep their life events in order and Wriothesley's and Neuvillette's healing progress consistent KJNDSKJNSANSKJHASDJNJSNDKJNASJNDSAJNKSAKJ.

SO. Detailed answer is this:

At this point in INGITAL, if you stand 1-2 meters away from him and wave, he's gonna notice if he's looking at you, paying attention, and you're both indoors, or he's wearing sunnies. He's not gonna be able to recognise anything, though, he can just tell something is moving. He can sort of read regular text on a computer screen at about 2-3 inches (on a good day) using his better eye (left, so he always sorta lean that way when he's trying to look at something), but it's a struggle and he'd rather not do it. His right is worse.

There's also his field of vision. So like, his peripherals are pretty much gone, and he has some dark patches/blind spots. He's also light-sensitive, so everything's kinda painfully bright sometimes, but his vision is also bad in the dark, so he needs a happy medium, but that can shift from day to day.

Very rough idea of what Neuvillette might look like to him on a sunny day. Veeery rough idea. I'm not blind I just researched a lot.

And then, regardless of what he can actually physically see, if his eyes hurt or feel too sensitive to keep open, it's all moot anyway. And once again, usually that depends on the day.

When Sigewinne was born, he had functionally decent vision in one eye (had a corneal transplant on his right). Legally can't get his driving licence, but y'know, he still felt confident enough to drive (Neuvillette did not let him, though.) The transplanted eye deteriorates over Sigewinne's first few months, and so did his better eye. He got another surgery for his left eye (the better one) when Sigewinne was about one, and that lasted for a bit, but by the time she's two, he's pretty much considered legally blind. By the time she's four, he does most things on his own and his other issues are managed as well, which is why they decided to have a second kid, and they had Carole when Sigewinne was 5. But Neuvillette struggled a bit with that second pregnancy. I mean, his first wasn't exactly rose and rainbows, but he his mental health nose-dived with the second one for a while. It's because he's been so focused on keeping it together while Wriothesley recovers that he hasn't fully dealt with his own trauma until his second pregnancy. Because yeah, thinking your husband died while you're carrying your first baby was traumatic. They've both got PTSD. By the time Sedene comes about though, they're all good. Sedene's pregnancy was a breeze, there was just Covid lockdowns HAHAHAHA. And then, if I go through with another pregnancy at the end of INGITAL, well... That's for me to know and for you to ponder.

[By the way, Clorinde mentioned going over to their house for Wrio's birthday 8 years ago in Chapter 9, which is when Sigewinne was 3 and he was 28. His previous birthday (his 27th) was a disaster. Had a big fight with his husband. So that's another morsel of lore from the 10-years-of-plot document.]

There's a scene planned somewhere in all this, where Neuvillette shows him some of their photos on one of the days when his vision is better. Photos of eeeeveryone their kids and their friends and all. He printed them out and edited them to raise the contrast so Wriothesley can see it more easily. Wriothesley voice: Ajax is fucking ginger? [This is lore relevant. No spoilers though.]

[zedif-y]

star tango! hes a star entity taken on physical form, with fiery hair and eyes in reds and yellows and blues that he can change at a whim, just by subtly altering his internal temperature. he looks human at a glance, but he's far from it. inside him is only glowing plasma, its hydrogen fusion keeping him alive. he didn't know humans don't run on fusion and didn't bother correcting his form now that he does. if he wants to let a bit more of his true stellar form leak through, he can manifest tendrils and shapes of plasma breaking through the human shell- such as mimicking a tail. for the aesthetic.

as a star, he is constantly glowing softly, but can turn that up to eye-blinding levels. he is ambiently warm. if he wants, he can disconnect himself from gravity and float up, even into space- where he can survive perfectly fine, disregarding the lack of pressure and air. he came from space, after all. but he likes being human (ish) and spending time with the hermits and making crazy games way more than going back to space and being a proper star again. it's boring up there! and here, he has friends :D

- headc-anon

Hi headc-anon! been a while, i think! you inspired me a bit with this one, hope you enjoy :]

---

Somehow, Tango always knew it would end like this.

Puffs of moondust settle at his feet with each step. Tango looks around him, up and into space-- where the stars shine, burning and bright. He smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

He takes off his helmet.

There's a hiss of air, a soft click. His eyes drift between shades of red, yellows, and blues-- his irises stay a bright white. Tango breathes in, lets it out.

It's been a while since he's been up here.

He keeps the helmet in his ship. Honestly, the space suit is for aesthetic than anything-- he could've gone in his underwear and he'd be fine.

Tango huffs a laugh, shaking his head at the thought.

His eyes drift, from the shining stars to the blue mass that is Hermitcraft. (Well, blue-green-white-other-colors. But Tango's never considered himself much of a wordsmith, nor an artist. So blue it is.) A lump forms in his throat.

...Honestly, he wishes his space visit were under better circumstances.

He turns back to the sky, hands shaking at his sides, his fire burning just a little too bright. Somehow, in some way, when the moon had even first hinted at being an issue, Tango always knew it would end like this.

Him, back in space, alone.

A few moments pass. Eventually, he shakes his head, digs out his supplies. (An absurd amount of TNT, gunpowder borrowed from a friend.)

It's boring out here, is the thing. There's nothing to do.

Tango burns, glowing plasma in his veins. And yet his determination burns brighter, settling right in his chest, tucked into his heart.

This doesn't have to be how it ends.

[cevans-is-classic]

"I'm not sure why I have to be here for this?" Djarin held the clothing over his arm.

You lifted a blue length of fabric and lifted it towards the sun, "Do you see what you're doing?"

"Holding stuff."

"Exactly."

It took a good amount of willpower not to sigh in frustration — he settled for rolling his eyes.

"Stop rolling your eyes at me. I want to find something different for Grogu to wear when the festival comes."

Djarin tips his head back, "What festival? We've already been to a festival."

"The rising celebration." You held out a green smock, lifting it towards the sky, then back down, stepping closer to Grogu's pod.

Grogu touched the fabric and smiled.

"You're going to look adorable."

"Can we go back to the festival thing?"

He didn't mean to sound agitated. Truly, it's been a long week, is all, and he'd hoped to come home and find you curled on the couch or by the stream and instead —

"Atlas Rising."

Djarin scrunched his brows, "I didn't think they celebrated that anymore. Not since the clone wars."

You draped the green smock over his arm, pulling the blue one you held back and replacing it with a length of brown string.

"Plenty of the Outer Rims celebrated it still. Not often, but they did. When I was in the main city when you were gone, they were discussing preparations. It's a few months away, which gives me time to make something for Grogu." You tipped your head to look at him, "Maybe some fresh coverings for you too." Your fingers touched his bicep, spreading a ripped stitch just beneath his armor.

"We're shopping for a festival that is months away?"

"Yes, but it's not the only reason." You turned on your heel, stopping him with a hand to his chest. Grogu's pod bumped against his thigh, and the little guy gurgled at the sudden change of pace.

You smiled down at him, then back up at Djarin, "The night before the festival I've — uh —" You flushed, eyes dropping to the ground as you stepped back.

Djarin almost reached out to grab your hand.

Grogu cooed, and you squatted down to smile at him, "Other things are worth celebrating as well. Not just the festival. Small things." A quick flash of your eyes at him. Stars shined, turning blinding blue and white, shimmering with your smile.

Djarin thinks of the blue and purple box tucked into the starfighters compartment.

He thinks of Grogu's painting from class and the comm bot Peli, wonderfully made for him.

He knows what that pause was for, yet his tongue stays glued to the roof of his mouth as you guide him and Grogu through the city.

It'll be a year since you stepped foot into their lives. One very long, very incredible year of Djarin watching Grogu grow and learn as much about you as he could.

A year since it felt like the ground beneath his feet had stopped shaking.

He knew what you wanted to celebrate.

When you asked him to hold a red smock with gold trimming, he didn't ask why or make a noise of distaste.

Djarin smiled, "I think I'll wear something over the armor if I must."

It's a year of seeing you smile.

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