#clone cadence

[babyscilence]

Questions I have about clones from someone who has family members in military active duty:

Do they have PT (physical training) when they're not in a combat zone? Like, does the Corrie Guard go for runs around base at oh five hundred every morning?

Do the ground troops have Company PT when they're back on Coruscant for a while? Sure they maybe get shore leave (is that even canon?) But that can't last forever.

Okay and say they do have PT or at the very least they did when they were in training still on Kamino. Do they sing cadence? Did their training sergents teach them songs like

"I don't need no teenage queen

I just want my Deece-15" (slight modification to an actual cadence)

We know in Legends they know Dha Wherda Verda and Vode An but those aren't cadence they're motivation songs.

So what would a clone cadence sound like?

[phoenixponyposting]

Phoenix's Next gen-

Royalty-

Celestia and Pinkie Pie Clone (This is an oc I made lol)- dating and no children. they don't want kids nor to get married as their relationship is relatively new. The Pinkie Pie Clone is named Phoenix, i have art of him I'll reblog him (trans!)

Cadence and Shining Armor- Widowed. Cadence died soon after child birth of Flurry Heart, Shining Armor is a single father and ruler for some time. Flurry Heart inherits the Alicorn of love title. it is learned that it is a 50/50 shot for alicorns to die from having kids in any regard do to possibly passing on your destiny to the child.

Luna x Shining Armor- Luna and Shining armor had been good friends for some time. Luna moved to the Crystal empire to help him through his loss, raise Flurry, and rule the kingdom. they end falling in love over a good few years. they end up having a child together despite the risks. A young filly called Daydream. Since Luna had multiple domains, she only passed on half, daydream taking the dream realm from her. Luna becoming purely of the moon and stars.

Sunburst, Sombra, Flash Sentry- Sombra has a type ship. Sunburst and Flash sentry were put in charge of reforming the ancient shadow unicorn. Sombra turns into a chaotic neutral with a lean towards doing things badly on purpose. he did what you asked why are you mad at him? he does end up enjoying the company of others, he's just upset about it. the three of them have two children, Luster Dawn, and a shadow unicorn Named Vivian (Paper mario refrence my beloved, yes she's trans)

Chrysalis x Tirek- they escape stone and are on the run. they adopt Cozy Glow. they aren't necessarily in a romantic relationship but a political one. it ends up becoming platonic and familial. they love each other dearly, not romantic tho. Aro Chrysalis my beloved.

[measlyscrapofseafood]

2023 art summaryyyyy😄😄

characters from april and october belong to @noah-maxwell & november rinzler design belongs to @whispering-woodlands

[aquamarignis]

DAE think that Kalymos is a little too "sagacious"? + some theories about Albrecht's behavior

I'm as much a cat person as Albrecht the rest of us, and I know for a fact that a cat can be smarter than me. I lived it.

But isn't she a little too smart for a cat, even for a Kavat? A little too evolved?

What we know by now:

She almost never leaves Albrecht's side. She was even in the room with him when he took his bad trip to the Void. She even tried warning him that something was wrong, he just got it too late (ha!)

We know of exactly one instance where she is without him: it's her leading us to poor Arthur's Kinepage. She's all alone and seems to know perfectly well where she's going. And Albrecht may either be completely unaware of this incident, or know exactly what is happening.

She wakes Arthur up in the metro (Whispers in the Walls) on her own. But then seems unable to do anything else besides just sitting and watching, by which point "Albrecht" has arrived already.

We can also remember Loid telling us that Kalymos must have been long dead by now and that Albrecht has likely cloned her unbeknownst to the family. We don't know when exactly it has happened, though.

The name of the Kalymos Sequence.

By the time Albrecht takes the one-way trip to 1999, he is well aware of the fact that his consciousness is slowly but surely getting eaten away by Wally (just like his labs are).

We even have a way to measure it: his voice records.

The Requiem diaries in Necralisk. Clear, well-thought-out speech full of metaphors, with a cadence of someone used to giving speeches (you know, like an experienced speaker, lector, etc).

You can hear that some sentences are left hanging which is usually a trait of autistic-coded characters (i.e. Spencer Reed). But other than that he's well-spoken and knows his rhetorical devices.

Whispers in the Walls. Namely, the Pom records and the Grimoire page. He's already staggering here, in places where he shouldn't. The intonation changes it places where it shoudn't. Not normally. And you can hear some vowels starting to stretch where they weren't before. And his voice starts dropping where it didn't before.

"Arthur? Tenno? ... Hmm. Forgive me. I... need... Loid... to- understand why I had to leave. Without... him."

It's already noticeably hard for him to speak. Like he's fighting something at every step. It sounds like either he was piecing it together from several attempts, or like it was read by different individuals.

Albrecht's Notes in the Sanctum are a bit lighter case of the above. The speech is still rich, but the fight has already started.

And then the City Wide Metro Voicemail. By this point, nothing remains of the Albrecht who was dictating the Requiem notes. The voice is coarse, rough, slow. Every word comes with a push, almost like a mockery of what was before. He's hammering it in, without regard to intonation, punctuation and sometimes meaning. The wording becomes quite peculiar, too.

What do you think about my failsafe against this old, dead end experiment? I do not have time to care who you are or why you stumbled into this unsavory business? Your reality? Your species? This is already so different from what we've heard before that I would never say this is the same person. More like stranded, estranged twins.

And then, obviously, the infamous You Are Late which sounds exactly the same as the above.

...However, the law of conservation tells us that nothing can disappear without a trace. So if Albrecht's body is occupied by Wally, – where is Albrecht?

What if he did have a failsafe?

Just, as he himself said, "let it parody them [animals]"? He would never put Kalymos in harm's way, that's true. He mentions it in the same note.

But she was supposed to be dead at least at one point. What if back then he made a last-ditch effort to protect both their consciousnesses and souls by forming this union, not unlike Transference which he was so fascinated with?

What if it was him waking Arthur up, leading us to connecting with him, and eventually assisting us in joining forces to trap Wally and bring him down?

What if the point of the Kalymos Sequence is that the missing piece of Albrecht is now Kalymos?

[valkyrieromanoff]

HOW BAD BATCH WOULD REACT IF YOU KISS THEIR NOSE?

warning:  mostly fluff, mention of past traumas, very slight angst

a/n: I still can't believe that yesterday was the last episode of Bad Batch, I don't think I can cry enough, or think about what my next few weeks will be like without the weekly dose of comfort and tension that this series has given me. I've never been as connected to something as I was to Bad Batch, I'm very happy with the ending they had, but it's what they say, even happy goodbyes are hard, so to stop myself from crying (again, because yesterday it seemed impossible to). 

I wrote about how I think the bad batch would react if they received a kiss on the nose, honestly, these don't have a well-defined plot, and the reactions happen in different time frames, they're not linear, anyway, I hope you like it ;)

✦ HUNTER

words: 368

You two had been dating for a few months now, and in this moment, you were on the Marauder, Hunter seated in one of the armchairs while you attended to a small cut on his forehead. He had decided to remove his helmet in the midst of the mission, only to inadvertently collide with a low-hanging tree branch.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you imagined the scene. It seemed almost ironic that the clone with heightened senses hadn't noticed the obstacle right in front of him. Your fingers delicately brushed aside strands of his hair as you reached for the alcohol swab, prompting a low sigh from Hunter. 

"Are you alright?" you ask, your voice laced with concern as you met his gaze with a gentle frown.

"Uhm," Hunter mumbled, downplaying the severity of the injury. He had weathered far worse wounds on countless missions, yet the tenderness with which you cared for him made each sensation feel heightened, imbued with an intimacy he had not known before.

"It's all done now, dear," you assured, your tone a soothing balm as you withdrew slightly to retrieve a bandage, your movements deliberate and tender.

As you leaned forward to apply the bandage, a spontaneous impulse overcame you, and you pressed a soft kiss to his nose. Hunter's initial reaction was one of surprise, his features momentarily frozen in disbelief. But as the warmth of your affection seeped into his being, his defenses melted away, replaced by a tender smile.

His hands instinctively found their way to your waist, pulling you closer until you stood between his legs, your proximity a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of your turbulent lives. 

Hunter enveloped you in his embrace, resting his head against your chest as he surrendered to the solace you offered. With his eyes closed, he savored the tranquility of the moment, the rhythmic cadence of your heartbeat, a symphony of that he would always find peace in.

You ran your fingers through his hair lovingly, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment as you both lingered in each other's arms. You found sanctuary, a fleeting respite from the trials that awaited you beyond the confines of the Marauder.

✦ CROSSHAIR

words: 538

"You know, honestly, it's not that bad, it's kind of cool, actually," you remarked wittily, your gaze drifting to where Crosshair's missing hand would have been. Though the absence was conspicuous, its significance hung in the air, a tangible reminder of the sacrifices made in their line of duty, in their last mission.

"You say that because it's not your hand," Crosshair retorted, his tone tinged with bitterness. He harbored a complex mixture of emotions—gratitude for their successful mission, relief at Omega's safety, and a lingering sense of emptiness that gnawed at him from within.

The absence of his hand served as a constant reminder of the price he had paid, both physically and emotionally. An undercurrent of guilt lingered within him, the thought of losing any of his brothers, after Tech, was a burden he wasn't sure he could bear.

"You're probably right," you agreed softly, settling beside him on the bed, the space between you bridged by mere inches. In the silence that followed, words seemed inadequate to express the complexities of emotions swirling within him. How does one greet someone returned from the depths of darkness, bearing physical and emotional scars?

Crosshair's gaze drifted to his arms, his expression clouded with a mixture of sorrow and resentment as he grappled with the reality of his altered form. Unwanted memories threatened to surface, accompanied by the phantom pains that plagued him even after  Hemlock's demise and the buried horrors of the Necromancer Project. Though dulled with time,  they lingered still, a persistent echo of his past traumas, an unfunny joke to remind him that he may have made it out alive, but so much had been taken from him.

"We could ask Phee to look for a robotic hand," you offered gently, your eyes radiating warmth and affection that Crosshair found unfamiliar yet comforting. The tenderness in your gaze was foreign to him, a stark contrast to the harsh realities of his former life,  the ghosts that haunted him. "Or a screwdriver, like Echo's."

Crosshair shook his head, a gesture laden with unspoken burdens. The absence of his hand symbolized more than mere physical loss; it signified a release from the shackles of his past traumas and the self-imposed guilt that threatened to consume him. An incoherent responsibility that maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't stayed with the Empire, Tech would still be with them.

You waited patiently for his response, your touch a gentle reassurance against the storm raging within him. When he offered no words, you cupped his face in your hands, drawing him into a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. 

Crosshair cast a sharp glance in your direction, surprised and confused by the unexpected action. His stoic facade momentarily falters in the wake of your affectionate gesture, a small, soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Though reluctant to show his vulnerabilities, he found solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the turmoil of his thoughts and the ache of his phantom pains. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes—a silent reminder that he was not alone, that even in his darkest moments, you stood by his side, a beacon of light in the shadows.

✦ ECHO

words: 514

"So, did you really come to help me or just escape from socializing?" Echo asked, his tone laced with a hint of amusement as he extended his arm, waiting for the tool he had requested. But you seemed lost in thought, your attention elsewhere as you failed to retrieve the tool he needed.

"Oh, of course I came to help you," you retorted softly, finally handing him the Scomp link, though not without a hint of distraction. Echo sighed inwardly, a pang of familiarity washing over him as he adjusted to your absent-mindedness. "Sorry, what was that again?"

"The Carbon chisel," Echo pointed out, gesturing to the tool lying within reach.

You handed over the tool, your gaze lingering on him with a curious intensity as he busied himself with repairing a problem on the Marauder. A sense of restlessness gnawed at you, the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing down upon your shoulders.

"Is something bothering you?" Echo's calm voice cut through the silence, his attention still focused on his task.

"I, I just feel like there’s something missing," you confessed hesitantly, your words a hesitant whisper that hung heavy in the air, a sense of disconnection gnawing at your soul, a hollow ache that refused to be silenced. "We're safe here in Pabu, surrounded by those warm and kind people, yet I can't shake this feeling of... emptiness."

"I understand," Echo murmured, his voice a soft echo of empathy as he peeled away the layers of his own turmoil. The weight of his words settled upon you like a heavy cloak, the burden of his past traumas a burden shared between kindred spirits. "That feeling of being part of something but not quite belonging."

"I saw my team fall one by one," Echo continued, his voice tinged with a quiet sorrow that cut through the silence like a knife. "Being the last survivor leaves a bitter taste, a nagging question of why. Why me? What made me different from my brothers?"

You listened in reverent silence, your heart aching with the weight of his confession. For Echo, the scars of battle ran deeper than the wounds of the flesh, a haunting reminder of the sacrifices made in service of a cause greater than themselves.

"But you can't live behind your ghosts," Echo declared firmly, his words a solemn vow to embrace the dawn of a new day. "If you've earned a chance at a new life, you can't waste it."

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of your lips, his unwavering resolve a hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume you both. Without a word, you leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to the tip of his nose, a silent promise of solidarity and understanding.

Echo's reaction was one of surprise, his features momentarily frozen in disbelief. But as the warmth of your affection washed over him, his stoic facade crumbled, replaced by a soft smile. Amidst the chaos you find a silent acknowledgment of shared struggles and silent victories, a testament to the bond that transcends time and space.

✦ TECH

words: 509

"In essence, hyperdrive is the key to unlocking the vast reaches of the galaxy, allowing us to explore new worlds and civilizations beyond the confines of our own star system. It is a realm of infinite possibilities, yet also fraught with peril. Mastery of hyperspace travel represents the pinnacle of technological achievement, offering both promise and peril to those who dare to venture into its depths." Tech concluded his long and detailed explanation, his words punctuated by the hum of the ship's systems as it idled on the tropical planet's surface.

As Tech spoke, you remained the sole audience to his monologue, absorbing his every word with rapt attention. Crosshair and Hunter had already departed to try to steal another ship, while Echo focused on assessing the Marauder's damages. 

Wrecker and Omega had ventured off to explore the surrounding area, leaving only you to engage with Tech's meticulous discourse. Nodding along and occasionally murmuring affirmations, you appeared genuinely engaged, a rare occurrence for him.

"Honestly, your explanation was very impressive and enriching. I hadn't stopped to think about those points," you commented softly, a warm smile gracing your lips.

Tech's response was hesitant, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your unexpected praise. "Well, uhm, it's not that difficult, the information already exists, I just made sure I knew it," he mumbled, his gaze shifting to his holopad as he struggled to process your kindness.

"Oh, believe me, it's impressive. Your brain is impressive," you insisted, your genuine admiration evident in your tone. "Anyway, I like listening to you talk. I always learn a lot."

Tech's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to comprehend your motives. He found comfort in the familiarity of his holopad, its data offering a sanctuary from the uncertainty of social interaction. Yet, your persistence was unnerving, your unwavering kindness a foreign concept to him.

Ignoring your words seemed the safest course of action, a way to deflect the unfamiliar emotions stirring within him. And then, without warning, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his nose. 

Tech's reaction was immediate, his body tensing with surprise as he adjusted his glasses in confusion. "Why did you do that?" he blurted out, his analytical mind already dissecting the situation in search of logical explanations.

"Because you look cute all concentrated," you confessed gently, your smile soft and affectionate.

Tech fell silent, his thoughts swirling in a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. Though uncertain of how to process your gesture, a subtle warmth blossomed within him, an unfamiliar sensation that tugged at the corners of his lips. As you lingered by his side, he found himself drawn to your presence. Perhaps, he mused, there was more to interpersonal interaction than he had previously understood.

As you smiled at him, Tech allowed himself a small, hesitant smile in return. In that ephemeral moment, amidst the complexity of the intricacies of human emotion, Tech found himself grappling with a newfound sense of connection – a connection he couldn't quite explain but was reluctant to ignore.

✦ WRECKER

words: 336

After a successful mission, Wrecker and you decide to buy some Mantell Mix before heading back to Cid's bar. The strong clone insisted that Omega would love the surprise, but you knew a big part of the reason was because Wrecker wanted to indulge in the candy himself. With a playful grin, you agreed, knowing how much he enjoyed the sweet treat.  

As you both bought the candy, Wrecker couldn't resist sneaking a few pieces into his mouth, his eyes lighting up with childlike excitement. You playfully scolded him, reminding him to save some for Omega, to which he grudgingly agreed, though he couldn't resist sneaking more when he thought you weren't looking.

Shaking your head with a fond smile, you followed Wrecker down a dimly lit alleyway that he claimed was a shortcut discovered by Tech during his planet mapping. The distant flashing lights obscure your view, and you stumble over an irregularity in the ground, sending the packet of Mantell Mix flying and sweets scattering into puddles.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Wrecker's concern was immediate as he knelt down beside you, checking for any signs of injury from your fall.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but there go the sweets," you remarked playfully, rubbing your neck where it had taken the brunt of the fall.

Wrecker's response was unexpectedly tender. "You're more important than sweets," he declared, his voice sincere as he offered you a warm smile.

His innocence and sweetness warmed your heart, and impulsively you leaned in and planted a kiss on his nose. Wrecker blinked in confusion for a moment before his face broke into a wide grin, his laughter filling the alleyway as he swept you up into a bear hug.

"Ha! You got me!" he exclaimed, his voice booming with infectious joy as he spun you around in exaggerated circles, his strength making it feel like you were weightless. 

You couldn't help but join in his laughter, the sound echoing through the alley as you surrendered to the moment. 

[lonewolflupe]

Dance Away The Cold (One-Shot)

This is my entry for week 9 of The Clone Wars Winter Spectacular 2024 / @clone-wars-winter-challenge !

Summary: When it’s getting colder outside, Echo’s presence is there to warm you Rating: Teen and up Tags: fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, anxiety, mutual pining, friends to lovers Words: 1.245 Pairing: TBB Echo x gen!reader Prompts: "Your hands are freezing" / Bonfire Read this one-shot here on AO3 week 8 < | ↓ | > week 10

The end of autumn was close, and the nearing of winter became all too evident when the darkness started falling earlier each night, cloaking the island with a crispness that called for precautionary measures. One such measure could be wearing an extra layer of clothing, but the island's inhabitants liked coming up with more creative and festive solutions. One of said solutions was lighting a big fire for all to enjoy.

And tonight, the bonfire’s flames licked the brisk sky, rhythmically moving an uncoordinated dance as they touched the stars in the galaxy beyond. The people of Pabu joined in with the flaming cadence, dancing around the fire, joining the evening's pulse. The sounds of laughter, singing and instruments filled the air with a warmth that kept the winter away a little bit longer.

With a content smile on your face, your arms wrapped around your knees as they were comfortably pressed against your chest, you watched the scene from a distance. You were happy seeing the islanders like this; seeing the refugees without fear, living life at its fullest without a constant threat lurking behind them. Being free, like they should be.

But you preferred watching from some distance. You hadn't been on Pabu that long, and you were still adjusting. Being pulled into the daily life and festivities of the carefree islanders proved a bit much at times, since your own struggles weren't that far behind. You enjoyed watching, but participating was a step you weren't ready to take just yet.

A silhouette made its way towards you, the light behind it painting the individual’s contours. You recognised him immediately by his confident stride and the form of his prosthetic arm. Without even realising it, a warm feeling erupted in your belly and a small smile appeared on your face. When he reached you, he sat down beside you, joining you in your remote observation of the island’s event.

“Don't you want to join the festivities?” Echo asked in his low, soft voice, already full of understanding before you even offered him your reply. He had joined you in your seclusion enough times to know it wasn't solitude you were after, but you preferred calm and comforting company over loud and abundant crowds. And he had turned out to be a great comfort to you.

“I prefer to behold the spectacle from afar,” you replied softly, turning your gaze away from the scene in front of you to look up at his face, immediately noticing his lips curling into a teasing smile. “And here I took you for the dancing kind,” he replied, and when he looked back at you, you noticed a playful flicker in his eyes. You couldn’t help but chuckle before you replied.

“Only with the right partner.” You briefly glanced at him, the corner of your mouth subtly curling upwards. You were amused by the fact the underlying meaning of your remark would probably be lost on him, but it didn't hold you back from saying it anyway. You gently placed your hand on top of his as a sign of affection.

It didn't have the intended response. His eyebrows shot upright, and he abruptly turned towards you, a haze of concern washing over his golden eyes. “Your hands are freezing,” he observed out loud, shooting into tactical mode instantly. He took your hands in his own, trying to close it off with his scomp, but it wouldn't fit properly. You noticed his eyebrows twitching from realisation and frustration as he looked down at his failed attempt to warm you.

You hadn't noticed the coldness of your hands yourself, and it didn't bother you one bit; his presence was warming enough to you. You opened your mouth to shoot him some reassurance to help ease his mind, but you were too late. A soft squeak of disappointment left your throat when he jumped to his feet and walked away in a hurry, your hand outstretched behind him - as if you could drag him back with an invisible grasp.

But you couldn't. Maybe you should have been less subtle with him. Contemplating on what you could say or do to make him understand your feelings for him, you bit your lower lip as your mind wandered. You were far too shy to tell him directly to his face, but you had a feeling you shouldn’t wait too long to show your feelings. You were slowly settling on Pabu, trying to forget your horrible experiences during the war. But a gnawing feeling inside you told you Echo wouldn’t be around the island forever. You didn’t want to be left behind, being haunted by the thought of what could have been.

Lost in thoughts, you only noticed Echo had made it back when he kneeled down in front of you. You looked at him a bit flustered; startled from being pulled from your spiraling thoughts. “You alright there?” he smiled at you, and you slowly nodded as you returned back to reality. And when you did, you noticed how he tenderly draped a blanket around your shoulders, making sure it covered your hands. When he reached them, carefully tucking them below the soft textile, his hand and scomp remained on top of them for a moment longer.

“Thank you, Echo. You’re too good for this galaxy,” you whispered to him, granting him the most genuine, warming smile. As in a reflex, he reached his hand towards your face, gently placing it on your jaw for a brief moment. With the softest of touches, his thumb caressed your cheek. You leaned into his touch, a content hum escaping your lips.

You swallowed when he retracted his hand, struggling to muster your courage. “Echo, I-” You were interrupted by him as he said your name at the exact same time. The two of you chuckled awkwardly before he gave you the opportunity to speak your mind, but you insisted on him going first. He regained himself, looking straight into your eyes when he spoke to you, a fierce passion adorning his bright eyes.

“You said you would only dance with, er- the right partner. Would you be willing to dance with me?”

With eyes wide open, you looked back at him, your lips mouthing silent words as you searched for the right ones to speak out loud. You noticed how the little muscles in his face twitched expectantly, but his rising heartbeat was lost on you. When you didn’t reply at once, he slightly averted his gaze. “I-I’m sure it’ll help you get warm,” he elaborated, as if he was afraid you would refuse his offer if it wasn’t properly substantiated.

Slowly, you brought your hand from under the blanket, and gently placed it on his cheek to guide his gaze back to yours. When your eyes met again, you finally found your courage. “There’s nothing in the galaxy I’d rather do right now,” you said to him, with a determination that made his face beam. Without saying another word, he quickly got up to his feet and offered you his hand, which you took gladly.

The galaxy was still a mess and it was filled with so many uncertainties, and you always expected your troubles to catch up with you again at some point in time. But for now, you were warm and comfortable in Echo’s arms. You had him and he had you, and at this moment, it was all that mattered.

ECHO MY BELOVED. I'm not really into dancing, but oh Maker, I would dance with Echo in a heartbeat.

Echo taglist: @welcometo79s @covert1ntrovert

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

part 16 - but I know where to start

“Feeling my way through the darkness, guided by a beating heart. I can’t tell where the journey will end, but I know where to start.” -Wake Me Up by Avicii

Regent Masterlist Part 15

Was it a cop-out to summon Jazz back to the Far Frozen? Yes. Did Danny particularly care? Nope! 

Jason was comfortable, propped up with a book Ghostwriter who had popped by to personally deliver. How the ghost had known about Jason Phantom wasn’t going to question, but he suspected GW kept an eye on the bookworms that passed through the Realms- or at least those close to the “Royal family”. Phantom wasn’t much for reading, not unless it was space-related, but he enjoyed listening to the Liminal man reading out loud. He had a brash voice, accented with a cadence like those from Crime Alley, but it only underscored the passion he held for reading. Phantom didn’t interrupt him once, not even when the halfa pulled out his ecto-phone and texted Ellie. 

(His little sister was in Kansas, spending time with another clone she’d literally run into.) 

Almost another full day's cycle passed before Phantom realized Jason had fallen back asleep, a book resting open on his broad chest and soft snores coming from the man. 

Yeah, he could see how he and Jazz fit together so well. 

There was just something about the Once-Revenant, a part of what made him Jason, that resonated with the Phantom. It’s what made him talk to the man as Red Hood, feel comfortable enough to stay in his company for so long, trust him with his older sister- the person who raised him. 

(Spent her birthday money to get him those cheap plastic glow-in-the-dark stars.) 

(Taught him how to read.) 

(Held him as the nightmares of his death shook him to his core.) 

(Did not fear him.) 

(Not as Phantom, Danny, or Dan.)

(Loves him.) 

(Mourns him.) 

(He would never tell her, but he understood how Dan could succumb to grief.)

(Jazz was his.) 

(His first friend, his true mother, his rock.) 

(She wouldn’t have claimed Regency without that tie.) 

Remix & Original chat 

Remix: Lol hows weenie Original:   jasons x3 ur size pipsqeak                    Remix:  ur point?  Original:  lol hes ok                                 frosty says he got hurt wth shrpnel                        new healed core + shrapnel = bad time Remix:  sucks 2 b him  Original:               so tru        Whre r u? Remix: omw 2 spain barcelona Original: ooh send pics if u need me call Remix: pics or nay gotcha txt u l8r luv u  Original: love u 2

Safely back in the living Realm and tucked away in Jason’s apartment, Jazz and Danny tried to investigate the bomb- unfortunately there was nothing for them to do but wait. 

On the upside, the Justice League was about to hit the UN full force with all the subtlety of a tsunami and who had front row seats to the drama? 

Yep, the Regent.  Jazz wasn’t exactly thrilled that her presence was requested, even though it was on the path to the desired outcome the Nightingale siblings had fought for, but both her soulmate boyfriend and little brother would be by her side as support. 

The Birds and the Bats Group Chat

Zombie: I lived bitch Spoiler-Alert: Jason!  Fly-Like-A-Dick: Little Wing!  Blood_Heir: Todd. Zombie: don’t sound too excited there demon brat.  Blood_Heir: Never.  Sleep_When_Im_Dead: Where have you been? Zombie: Stayed overnight at my Docs for observation.  Fly-Like-A-Dick: For three days? Blood_Heir: Fail to find that humorous Todd.  Zombie: wasn’t meant to be a joke brat.  I was actually at my Docs.  Zombie: Got a shovel talk from my girlfriends little brother too.                                     Spoiler-Alert:  Whoa GIRLFRIEND!!!! 😱 Jason!  Why is this the first were hearing this??? Fly-Like-A-Dick: Little Wing!!!!!! Quiet_Dancer: 🤗  Zombie:  At least Cass and Dickiebird are happy for me                                    Spoiler-Alert:  Ecstatic! But details! Now.                                                      Zombie: No.                                              Fly-Like-A-Dick: Is she a redhead??? Sleep_When_Im_Dead:  Jasmine Nightingale.                                                      Zombie: Babs.                                               Oracle_of_Gotham:  On it.  [member Sleep_When_Im_Dead has been blocked from the group.]  Spoiler-Alert:  too late!!!!!! Cass  with me! Quiet_Dancer: 🫡 Oracle_of_Gotham: DENIED Batdad:  Welcome back Jaylad.                                                        Zombie:                                           Old man       You and I need to have a talk with words                                              Fly-Like-A-Dick: battle stations everyone!!!

Council of Uncaged Birds

Queen_Regent: Ellie, I want you to meet Jason.  Officially meet him.  WanderingPrincess: eh??? temp said wasnt srs Queen_Regent: Danny No InfiniteStarPrince: Danny YES Frosty said they are  soulmates!!!!!! WanderingPrincess: 🤯😱 wha th fuck!!!1 Queen_Regent: language!  WanderingPrincess: ENGLISH imma get a shovel gotta undead weenie 2 bury.

Template. [user InfiniteStarPrince has left the chat]  WanderingPrincess: coward Queen_Regent: I have many regrets.  WanderingPrincess: u luv us 👻

Lady & Knight chat Lady: Jay remember when I told you I wanted you to meet Ellie?  Knight: She’s bringing a shovel isn’t she.  Lady: I love how brilliant you are.  Knight: I aim to please. 

Lady & Knight chat Knight: you patrolling tonight? Lady: wasnt planning on it Knight: wanna meet me? Lady: same time same place? Knight: you know it

The abolishment of the Anti-Ecto Acts officially happened at three pm on a dreary Gotham Tuesday. Jazz was cuddled with Jason on his couch, dozing off to his heartbeat as he read Pride and Prejudice for the thousandth time. The comfortable silence they had wrapped themselves in only occasionally broken by Jason turning a page was completely shattered when Jazz’s phone rang with the Ghostbusters theme song. 

“Danny?” Jazz answered surprised, “School isn’t out yet, what’s wrong?” She was greeted by Danny’s heaving cries as he replied. 

“Batman, he- he did it!” Danny sobbed, “He saved us.” 

It clicked then. The Dark Knight had completed the task he was entrusted with by a Spirit of Protection, the Once and Future Star King, and unknowingly kept the promise a ghost made to a young Jasmine Fenton. 

One day my son will stop this. All of this. You only need to be strong. Take care of yourself and your brother. I promise. 

She had waited years for the promise to be fulfilled, the sworn promise of the dead to a living child. Jasmine was a patient soul, but she had still been a child that night in Gotham. 

(The Drs. Fenton believing the stories about a ghostly vigilante patrolling the streets, a never aging child by their side.) (Dragging their children with them. ) (Hungry and cold.) (A dead man who swore his son would end their torment one day.)

(She should’ve known it wouldn’t come fast enough to save Danny.) 

How was she to know the ghost was speaking of the Realms inhabitants, not the abused and neglected children of Ghost Hunters? How was she to know that the hope such a promise kindled wasn’t hers to keep?  Jason wrapped his arms around her, the book set aside and her phone gently taken from her grasp to be put on speaker so they could both talk to her little brother. Danny had dissolved from heaving sobs to muffled hiccups, seemingly now that he’d shared the news with his sister. 

“He really did,” she muttered. “He really did it.” 

(The furry fucker actually did it.) (She’d known that he was going to try, but humans are stubborn creatures.)

A/N: Hi! Welcome to an update for the Regent. Just to be fully transparent with each of my readers - The Regent is still on Hiatus.

I have deleted so much of my writing because I don't like the flow/dialogue/pacing. Original ending thrown out and rewritten twice- still don't care for it. Who knew something other than Angst would be so difficult.

(Not me!)

Having said that, this entry is of course beta'd by the wonderful @meditating-cat who has put up with my random messages.

(You are amazing!)

(In all honesty, I wish I could just skip right to the ending because at least I know 100% I can get it just right....eventually.)

Thanks for reading and happy easter!

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Accidental mate; chapter 9*~

Here it is! I’m so sorry for the wait 😂 It was one thing after another, but I digress! Thank you to everyone, (Anonymous readers too!) for your kind support and eagerness for this to continue. Special thanks to @clone-bar-79s for motivating me to finish this chapter!

"The good news is, you've got time. His next rutting season isn't for another six months, you've got time to come to terms with it, make a decision that's best for you"  the joyful Cadence had returned to Urahara's voice, at this point you were positive it was as much of a disguise of his true thoughts and feelings as his hat and fan were. He was kindly trying to put you at ease, not letting his true concern shine through. More than you felt you deserved in this moment.

Letting your hands drop, shoulders squaring in mock determination, you raise your face to meet his eye. Fake it til you make it. "Thank you for telling me,". You raise to your feet, ready to accept your fate. Taking in a deep, soothing breath to steady your nerves. You needed to find Grimmjow. "I'll consider my options thoroughly" 

Urahara jumped to his own feet, hands presented to halt your departure, apologetic look on his angular face. Hat still secure in his hand, he looked so much younger with his mop of blond hair on show"Actually, there's more you need to know" 

More? You sat down heavily in your chair. You didn't think you could handle any more right now, you were still digesting the information you had just been fed, mind dizzyingly running though the conversation in an endless loop of uncertainty and guilt. You didn't know why you felt guilty, but it was there, heavily sitting in your stomach.

"If you were to decide to pursue a relationship with Grimmjow, there are some other factors you need to be aware of" Urahara disclosed as he rejoined you sitting down. You felt a little overwhelmed with the amount of information you had already been given, mentally exhausted with the drastic change in your life you were presented with. Though it did pique your interest, what else were you about to discover about the complicated Espada? "I'm sorry, I know it's a lot to take in" 

Your face must have betrayed how you were feeling, given the sympathetic look Urahara looked at you with. You shook your head dismissively, it wasn't through any fault of his own. Your own gluttonous actions had lead to this fiasco. Yourself and Grimmjow. Your throat tightened slightly at the thought of you and Grimmjow together in the same sentence, a couple.

Couple of idiots, you snarkily reminded yourself. Might as well get everything out in the open now, to save you from any more unwanted surprises later down the line. "Now that he has mated, part of Grimmjow's instincts will have him wanting to scent mark you. Which could be problematic " 

"problematic how?" You never realised how ignorant you were up to this point about Grimmjow's hollow side. You never realised it went as deep and animalistic as scent marking. Something you associated with mammals claiming their territory, hopefully he used another method than what you were aware of. You were pretty open minded, but you drew the line at Grimmjow pissing around your home. Or worse.

"While for the bonded pair, it can be considered rather intimate, for other hollows it's perceived as a warning... or a challenge"  For the first time since you entered the room, you notice Captain Muguruma turn to face you, seemingly interested in this part of the conversation. Arms crossed over his broad chest, he leaned back to the same window ledge Captain Hirako was using to prop himself up. "I'm sure you're well aware of the Captains and Lieutenants who have a hollow of their own residing within" 

You nod, eyes flicking to two of the captains who were visoreds , struggling to find the energy to participate verbally to the conversation yet. Shinji sent you a lazy wave, confirming what you already knew. You had seen first hand the blackening of their eyes, the inhuman warble hissing from the buff captains lips. Felt the chill run up your spine when his eyes locked onto you with a predatory gaze.

"The pheromones Grimmjow left on you can be smelt by the visored." Urahara explained, placing his hat back atop his head. Everything seemed to be falling into place, everything you had been confused about the past few days, running through your brain without answer finally being explained. Ichigo had told you that you smelt different, Grimmjow attacking him shortly after halted any further explanation. Subconsciously you breathed in deeper, trying to detect any foul smell coming from you.

Not as subtle as you had intended however, by the chuckle Urahara gave "You won't be able to smell it, neither can we" he indicated to himself and Kyoraku. That was somewhat of a relief, unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but you didn't relish in the idea of smelling.

 "Only hollows will be able to detect it, a survival instinct. It activates their instincts of fight or flight. The weaker ones, the beta's, will see it as a warning to avoid you for fear of getting into a fight with your alpha. For the stronger Alphas, they'll view it as a challenge"

"A challenge for what?" You almost didn't dare ask, not sure you wanted to hear the answer.

"To take you from him" Shinji interjected, tilting up his head to show off his smug grin. "To prove their strength, beat someone as strong as Grimmjow, steal his mate, become the most dominant" 

Your mouth fell open, gobsmacked at the new information. This was why they were here? To what? Let you know before hand that they may try and take you from Grimmjow? You felt a little nauseated at the thought. You didn't want that. Didn't want to be seen as the objectified prize of some barbaric testosterone fulled game. Offended at the thought of being passed around by whom ever claimed victory. You wouldn't accept it. You didn't want Shinji or Kensei, you wanted...

"Don't worry, this isn't us warning ya ta lock ya doors or we'll drag ya off to our caves"  Shinji's lips pulled at the corners,slowly dragging his eyes over your figure appreciatively. You fought the urge to cover yourself up from his lecherous gaze. Damn pervert. He was only joking, surely. Distasteful and outrageously unprofessional given the circumstances and his status, but he had better be only joking. "Though.."  he gave you a scandalous wink when he finally made it to your eyes " I could be tempted"

"Don't be a prick, Shinji" Kensei snarled at his colleague, seemingly reaching the end of his patience with all his teasing. Shinji held his hands up in surrender before placing them in his pockets and leaning back against the window, sulkily rolling his eyes at his fun being stopped "was only teasin' " 

Kensei rolled his eyes before focusing them on you. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. While you didn't believe the head captain would allow any harm to befall you in his office, the large Captain scared you quite a bit. "Don't look at me with such a scared look on your face" he barked out the order, eye brows furrowed tightly. "We've got our hollows under control" 

"Most of the visored have beta hollows," Urahara took over the explanation again, saving you from having to change your facial expression for the short tempered Captain "Shinji and Kensei are the only two in soul society with Alphas. There shouldn't be a problem with Captain Otoribashi or lieutenant Kuna. " 

"Mines female, a lot easier to deal with then Kensei's." Shinji interjected, seemingly bored with the conversation now that he was denied his fun. You couldn't help but find the conversation fascinating. While you had heard the stories of Aizen's inhumane experimentation, Urahara's intervention and saving the hollowfied Captains and lieutenants, it was interesting in the way they described it. Like the hollow entity trapped within their own psyche, fighting to break out of their prison. "His is particularly aggressive.."

"An asshole is what he is," Kensei grumbled, cutting Shinji off from his deduction of the situation. Fixing you in his vision once more, he spoke with undeniable conviction "We have them under control, there won't be any problems now that we know what happened" 

"It was just a bit of a shock the other day". Shinji added, pulling attention back onto himself. You felt like you were getting whiplash, all this back and forth had the muscles in your neck stiffening "Never expected ta smell Grimmjow on ya like that, nor the reaction our hollows had " By the looks on Urahara and Kyoraku's faces, they've already been informed about your encounter with the Captains a few days prior. It eased your worry somewhat, the conviction Kensei had when he said he had his hollow under control. You released a shuddering breath, soothing the burning your lungs with the length you held it.

"You're perfectly safe here, YN. I have no doubt that the captains can control their hollows instincts"  Kyoraku spoke up, further soothing your worry. You trusted his judgment,he had proved his insightful deductions of situations to correct nearly one hundred percent of the time in your experience. He was a good judge of character. If he trusted the visored, then you could too. "The real concern lies with Ichigo Kurosaki"

"Ichigo?" You repeat surprised, you hadn't expected Grimmjow's sworn enemy to be brought into the conversation. You had just seen him. There was no reaction like what the captains exhibited. He treated you the same way he always had, friendly, relaxed. Though he did mention being able to smell you before Grimmjow attempted to knock his head clean off his shoulders

"Ichigo's hollow is still juvenile." Urahara picked up the conversation again, slipping easily back into rattling off the facts you needed to know "Though he is combative and defiant, he's not yet matured enough to want to seek out a mate, more interest in fighting for power over Ichigo. Given the history between Grimmjow and Ichigo, that could change once his hollow reaches maturity"

They were worried about it, you realised upon seeing the somber looks they all watched you with, waiting for your reaction. They were concerned not only for you, but soul society itself. There was no denying how incredibly powerful Ichigo was. No one had ever come close to reaching the level he had. The utter destruction he could cause if his hollow managed to break free and take over. The damage to soul society itself, the loss of life, the possibilities were staggering.

Grimmjow wouldn't refrain from doing something he wanted to do just because it may effect Ichigo. In fact you were pretty certain it would only make him want to do it more. Grimmjow's confidence in himself and his strength was bordering psychotic, he wouldn't care if Ichigo did challenge him. In fact, you believe he would welcome it whole heartedly, encourage it even. Idiot. He would fit in perfectly with the meat heads in the eleventh. He didn't care about the ramifications, so long as he got to thrive in the fight.

The subject would have to be brought up to both Ichigo and Grimmjow. You had the sinking feeling in your stomach, that you would have to be the one to convince Grimmjow to ignore his instincts and not mark you. If you decided to go through with it and be his mate. It would solve this problem if you simply refused to commit yourself to him, even though that decision would create problems itself. Your head was hurting, stress pinching the sides of your temples. It was too much, to many decisions falling on your shoulders.

"If Grimmjow can refrain from scent marking you,or we set up a plan for when he does, there should be little concern for ramifications". Urahara added to your silence. He could see your mind racing, thinking over all the possibilities of what you had just learned. He waited patiently for you to sift through your thoughts, silently watching as your unfocused eyes sharpened, to look him in the eye.

You had made a decision

"I need to see him

———

You walked in semi comfortable silence next to the eccentric exile, the clacking of his wooden foot ware against the stone floor, a steady beat to accompany his tuneful whistling. You appreciated the fact he didn't try to engage you in mindless chit chat as you followed him to his workspace in the outskirts of the twelfth division, Where Grimmjow was apparently staying until he was placed and housed permanently in a division. You just didn't have the capacity right now to pretend to be interested in anything Urahara could have to say to fill the silence between you.

Your mind was thick with all the information you had been given this morning. You struggled to sort through it, every question you had only leading to more questions, every solution met with an abundance of what if's and maybes. Ifs ands and buts attaching themselves to the end of every train of thought you rode on. You sigh mentally.

Remembering a time before Grimmjow forced his way into your life, with his aggressive nature and brash behaviour. When the only decisions you had to make were unimportant, mundane. Effecting you and only you. You couldn't believe how far away that seemed now. You hadn't even had the time to consider your own feelings yet. Grimmjow having invaded your every thought. Did you even like him? Well, no. Not really. His anger and snide comments annoyed you beyond belief. He was rude and infuriating, temperamental at best.

There was something there though, some pull you couldn't give name too. A niggling need in the pit of your stomach, Urging you figure out the puzzle that was Grimmjow. Wanting you to succumb to his unbending will, burn in his fiery passion. You were attracted to him, how could you not be? Handsome, strong. All the traits of a protector, a provider, that a millennia of evolution had you biologically trained to desire. There was something there. As much as you may want to deny it or ignore it, push it down and suffocate it until it no longer burns within you. It was there

A large hand settled on your shoulder, making you jump as it snapped you from your thoughts. Urahara didn't even try to hide the amusement on his face from your startled appearance. He nodded in front of you, getting you to see for the first time where you were.

"We're here" you sucked in a deep, soothing breath, releasing it slowly to rid yourself of the nerves threatening to shake you to your core. The hand on your shoulder squeezed comfortingly, departing with a tap "You'll be okay kid" 

Urahara pushed on, trusting you to follow. Opening the door with more vigour than necessary, he walked into the darkend space. "Honey I'm home!" You slipped in behind him silently, inquisitive eyes taking in the space. It was a large room, dimmed from the afternoon sun, with a desk littered with paper. Organised chaos immediately sprung to mind. Empty bottles of alcohol messily strewn on the floor, filling the space with the sharp smell of their remains.

Opposite you was a worn couch, currently moulded around the source of the rumbling growl you could feel reverberating through your chest. Grimmjow laid facing into the couch, back turned on his unwanted guest "Fuck off"  he grunted, curling in on himself, seemingly trying to disappear into the padding he was laying on. Arm thrown over his head, attempting to block out the punishing light streaming in from the open door, as well as the walking headache, Urahara.

Grimmjow Suppressed a groan, not ready to be rudely woken from his slumber. His throat was dry, scratching painfully around every forceful swallow he made in attempt to moisten the passage. His head thumped with every beat of his heart, every jolt a mercilessly cruel reminder of his rash decision making the night before. He didn't know what that freak kept in those bottles, but it sure as shit wasn't decent alcohol. Still he clung to the offered numbness it provided, willing himself to fall back into the black abyss.

"Come now ,Grimmjow," your eyes flicked to Urahara's back as he delved deeper into the room, approaching the temperamental beast with little regard to his own safety. Daringly poking Grimmjow in the back with the end of his cane, getting another growl in response "Remember your manners, we have a guest" 

"You can shove your manners up your..". Guest? Grimmjow felt his skin tingle, senses sharpening instantly. He inhaled deeply, tasting the air in the back of his throat. Mixing gently with the starchy alcohol and the dust imbedded in the couch was something sweet, rich, like thick honey clinging to the walls of the hive of the bees that created it. Fresh and salty, like the wind dancing over the oceans surface. You. You who he had ran away from, you with your bewitching eyes, your ensnaring lips. Ignoring the protesting scream of his head, Grimmjow pushed himself away from his forgiving nest, jumping to his feet, determined to not allow the discomfort to flash over his face

"The fuck do you want?"  He snarled at you, watching as your face betrayed your silly human emotions. Uncertainty, confusion, before settling on one he knew all too well, annoyance. He tried to glance at you sparingly, tried to keep himself from dissecting each and every aspect of your being, searching for the reassurance of your health. Your smell was tainted. Grimmjow could smell the musk of others lingering on your skin. He picked up the distinct notes of Urahara lingering on your clothes.

Another deep inhale and he picked up the signature of three others. The drunk, and the two who had acknowledged his claim on you. The discovery made his teeth clack together as his jaw tightened. Why the fuck were they all around his mate. Why were you looking at him, with pity.. and something else. Not quite fear.. but something he didn't recognise.

Eyes snapping to Urahara, Grimmjow snarled as he crossed the distance, chest rumbling with rising anger "What the fuck did you do!"

"Grimmjow.." Urahara's hand shot out to stop you from getting closer, halting your advance to calm him. Grimmjow roughly grabbed the lapels of his top, dragging him closer to the passed off Espada as he spit out the words "Why is she here!" 

Certain you would heed his advice and stay out of range, Kisuke lowered his arms to placate the emotional man on a subconscious level. "The head captain and I thought it best to inform YN of the situation between you." Grimmjows eyes widened, fingers slacking on the bunched up material. "We explained about the bonding, and what it means for ..hurmft!" 

The speed at which Grimmjow pulled back his fist and snapped it towards Urahara's face was impressive, if not for the unmanly exclamation of pain cutting off Urahara's explanation, you might've missed it all together. Almost instinctively you protested, scolding him with the disappointed use of his name, falling on deaf ears as Grimmjow pushed Urahara from his grip and into the desk behind him

"You had no fucking right" Grimmjow roared, fists shaking at his side with the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Fixing Urahara with a dark glare, he kicked violently at one of the many bottles left forgotten on the floor, ignoring it as it smashed into the wall with excessive force. Chest swelling with frustration, Grimmjow pushed past Urahara, heading to the open door, not even sparing you a glance. "Fucking stay out of my business old man"

"Grimmjow" you reached for him, his arm slipping just out of your reach as he jerked it away, stomping through the open door. Ignoring your soft call, ignoring the indignant cry of "Old man?!" Muffled by the hand covering his bloody nose. Grimmjow needed to get out, If he stayed he was going to kill him.

You watch him leave, sighing as he slipped from your vision. Your head fell into your hands, momentarily blocking out the room and the shit show that just transpired. How you and Grimmjow were going to come to any sort of middle ground when he insisted on running away way beyond you. You let your hands slip from your face, disappointed with how that turned out.

"that didn't quite go how I expected" you mumble, disheartened by Grimmjow's disappearing act. It cut you deeper than you thought it would've, now that you knew about the bond.. it hurt to see him distance himself from you again. To reject you.

"Really?" Urahara asked surprised, gently running his fingers down his sore nose to ensure it wasn't broken " It went exactly as I had thought" 

———

Grimmjow was seething. Rage coursed through his veins like lava, obliterating any coherent thought that wasn't tinged in anger.. Why the fuck were these damn Shinigami interfering with his business, with his mate! They had no right, no fucking right to tell you. They weren't hollows, they didn't have bonds, you weren't theirs! You were his, his mate, his responsibility. He was going to tell you. The right way, not fill your head with biased bullshit from shinigami who didn't know the first thing about him or his bond.

"Grimmjow!" He rolled his eyes at your call, not stopping in his desire to put as much space between you and that fool as he could. He needed a fight. A brutal, dirty battle, where he could let go, succumb to his unconscious mind, move and act without thinking, just reacting. "Grimmjow,"

Damn woman didn't know when to fucking drop it. Whirling round he scowled at her, arms folded defensively over his chest. Her cheeks were flushed.. delicate pink, likely brought on by the jog she fell into to close the distance between them. He could feel her warmth seep off her, radiating the space around her like the sun. It was pure and gentle, not brash and damaging like him. She stopped an arms length away, watching him cautiously. It pissed him off.

They each stood in silence, waiting for the other to break the awkward tension between them. Giving the other the opportunity to dictate the way in which this conversation would go, knowing that one misspoken word could result in vicious words being spat, one misjudged movement could have them colliding together in a rush of frenzied passion..

"What!" He snapped, having enough of her inquisitive stare. She had annoyed him endlessly with her fucking bitching and complaining, now she suddenly had nothing to say? He watched as your frown softened, eyes darting to the ground between them

"They were right in telling me Grimmjow. I needed to know.."  you spoke softly, concentrating on how best to gently speak your mind. You couldn't let him bury his head in the sand and ignore it any longer. Something needed to be decided between you now, before his next rutting season came along. Grimmjow's eyes flashed with your words, not yet ready to let go of his annoyance of his privacy being talked about by a bunch of damn shinigami.

" I was going to fucking tell you! I tried!"  Grimmjow snapped defensively, stalking closer to maximise the height difference between you. Intimidation was a weapon Grimmjow had used countless times, successfully, against bigger and stronger adversaries than the small woman basked in his shadow. So why was it that this woman was meeting his eye defiantly, not a shimmer or trepidation or fear showing on her face

"You've got to stop pushing me away, Grimmjow. I know now, so stop running away and.." Grimmjows fingers wrapped around your throat and stealing your breath. Pressure squeezing threateningly against the side of your neck, fingers twitching in warning. His hand trembled, you could feel the vibration against your delicate skin as his eyes burned into your own, darkly muttering inches from your face, hot breath dancing over your lips

"I don't run away from nothing" you instinctively took hold of his wrist, yet you didn't try to push him away. You could feel your blood pumping through your jugular vein, held prisoner against his dominating hold. It was a show, a display of strength of power that he so desperately needed to hold onto so not to submit to his own confusing contradictory impulses. You shivered at his dark tone, as black and as cold as the darkest of nights. You squeeze his wrist tighter, pouring out the light of understanding, the warmth of acceptance 

"I know your scared" you were too. Scared of these confusing, consuming feelings you had never wanted. Scared of change, everything comfortable and safe being thrown into disarray . Scared you wouldn't be able to make it work, that you wouldn't be enough. Terrified that it would. "I am too.. Im your....mate."  As quiet as it was, you heard the sharp intake of breath. You watched how his eyes widened, furious rage dulling behind his eyes. He's fingers loosening their grip on your neck by a fraction, startled by your acknowledgement, acceptance"we need to come together Grimmjow, work through this together, or you're going to suffer alone. I can't sit back and watch that happen"

"you don't owe me shit, I don't want your fucking pity" Grimmjow pushed you away physically and fugitively,  creating distance from the hope you cruelly dangled in front of his nose. A life line, in the crushing reality he unknowingly made for himself. You were speaking from guilt, from some twisted sense of duty. He wouldn't let anyone pity him. You reached for his arm, stopping him from turning his back on you. You couldn't let him run away again, couldn't let him think you didn't care

"It's not pity." You had to get him to understand. He was stubborn and pigheaded, but you could get through to him. You had to. "It's not guilt. Grimmjow, talk to me" 

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Grimmjow screamed in your face, hoping to scare you off. Better you run now, than to pull him deeper into your Facade. Give him a sense of stability, lull him into a fabricated delusion of belonging before you pull it from under him and watch him down. You didn't back down, didn't even flinch at the display of crazed hostility. 

"Nothing. I don't want anything from you but to try. Stop shutting me out"  Grimmjow ripped his arm from you, pacing back and forth as he run his fingers through his hair as you spoke. Like a caged animal backed into a corner, comforting himself with what little freedom he had left. Clawing to it possessively, fearing you would try to take that too. "I just want a chance, a chance to see if we can make more out of this.. bond, than this... constant hostile back and forth!" 

You were struggling to keep your emotions in check. You knew Grimmjow was impossible to reason with, challenging to engage with, with anything other than anger. You didn't want to fight. Didn't want to snap and resort to his default of shouting and snarky remarks. You knew he was struggling with what he was feeling, that he wasn't happy about this bond. But it was here, it wasn't going anywhere, and all this back and forth was grating on you. If you were struggling keeping your emotions in check, then Grimmjow was loosing the damn war. 

"I don't know what the fuck you want from me woman!"  he yelled in response, glaring at you with every pass he made with his restless pacing." I can't fucking break it! I tried!" 

"Im not asking you to break it! I know you can't, and I know that you would if you could, you're clearly less than fucking pleased to be lumbered with me!" 

"Then what the fuck do you want!"

"To talk! To get to know eachother, find some mutual understanding!"  You shout back, disappointed in your inability  to not resort to a shouting match. You took a deep, soothing breath. Pulling it as far down as you could before controlling the steady release, willing your annoyance to leave your body. "I thought we could start meeting up, go on a few dates and"

"Dates?" Grimmjow sneered the word, almost offended his tongue had to manipulate around the syllable. He scoffed, seemingly finished with his mindless walking around. At last.. progress

"It's when two people..."

"I know what fucking dates are!"  That interfering old man told him about them. Offering unwanted, idiotic suggestions when all he wanted was a solution to end this infuriating bond. They sounded like they consisted of absolutely fucking nothing Grimmjow wanted to engage with. Flowers and holding hands. Fucking strolling mindlessly through fields while this bitch talked his ear off. Not this Espada. 

Sure.. don't know how to use chopsticks but is well fucking informed on dates and courting. Urahara seriously needed to reevaluate his priorities in what to teach Grimmjow.. 

"I ain't gunna fucking coddle you. I'm not going to bring you flowers or listen to you cry about your damn nails and hair. If you want all that bullshit go date the old man! Leave me the fuck out of it!"

You were instantly offended. Trying to palm you off on another man for something you didn't even want. You had no delusions about Grimmjow. You weren't expecting romance or sweetness. You certainly weren't so shallow or materialistic to demand or expect him to pander to you. Even if Grimmjow refused to see it, you were a strong, self sufficient woman. You didn't need all that from another person, you were capable of providing it for yourself. What you did require was damn respect, honesty and the same damn commitment you were willing to put into this

"I don't want to date Urahara, you fucking idiot. I want to date.." your angry retort died on your lips at the surprise widening of his eyes, the anger slipping from his face almost instantly. Inhaling deeply, you decide to finish your unintentional slip strongly. No more games. No more tiptoeing around the situation. One of you needed to stop this ridiculous back and forth and start being honest, truly honest "you, I want to date you Grimmjow. I don't need flowers. I don't need gifts or for you to change to please me. I just need a mutual respect, and a willingness to try and see if we can develop our own feelings not dictated by your bond."

He stepped towards you, a hesitancy in his movements you had never seen from him before. Questioning eyes searched your face, piercing deeply into the emotions swimming behind your eyes. "Why..?"  Searching for a hint of deception.. a sliver of hidden motives. All he could find was honestly, vulnerability. He didn't know how to deal with that. Everyone had a hidden selfish agenda. A selfish motive for everything they did. He had seen it time and time again, offering help if only it benefited you later. 

"I don't know"  you spoke softly, not a remnant of anger in your voice. Grimmjow scoffed, shoulders sagging with disappointment. He nearly fell for it, almost believed your bewitching lies.. you took hold of Grimmjow's hand, stepping closer so he had no choice but to look at you "I can't give it a name... this..pull that I feel. This feeling I get when I think of you,  these reactions I have when I see you.." 

 Grimmjow's mouth went dry, swallowing thickly as he listened.. heart thumping so loudly in his chest he thought it would bust right out his rib cage. The solidified need imbedded within the very fabric of his nature, that had been ripping him from the inside out,  suddenly sparking wildly in his stomach as you voiced your want for him. Both your small hands holding his, caressing mindlessly over his fingers, mapping out the hardened callouses, your eyes watching your fingers dance over his skin.. 

Then you looked up, the purest of eyes, shining with vulnerability, need, desire. Looking straight though him, through his defence, his armour. His breath hitched in his throat when you looked at him like that, so open, so... honest

"I don't know what it is. But it's there. It's real, and it's growing and it's not going away. I want to know what it is Grimmjow.... I want to see what it could become " 

[eldrai]

Autistic Dogma headcanons

Used to (and does, but is used to it) find eye contact uncomfortable and was frequently reprimanded for disrespectful conduct as a cadet for not holding eye contact

As a result he can force himself to make eye contact and often does, to an abnormal degree, out of habit even when he's not talking to COs.

Has the sometimes unnerving side effect that he can get lost in thought while still staring, pretty unblinkingly, at someone. This also got him in trouble as a cadet but with other cadets who took offense to it

(Attempts to rope him into a staring contest fail though; intensely looking into someone else's eyes with no other purpose? No thank you.)

Very much wore his heart on his sleeve as a cadet and was a frustrated cryer

He's also managed to train most of that out of himself and his expressions tend to fall either very blunted (most emotions) or very expressive (anger, irritation; the "permitted" emotions.)

Strong sense of justice, though until Umbara his concept of justice was essentially synonymous with following the rules

If there's anything Dogma would get in trouble for as a cadet, it's for protesting unfair treatment. Mostly for his batchmates and classmates, less often for himself.

(This did not always end well for them or for him – there's a reason it was so engrained in him the chain of command stands above everything else)

Feels perceived injustice incredibly strongly, more than anything else.

That said, he does like having rules and clear boundaries and examples. It helps things make sense and gives him a metric to compare himself against, a standard to hold himself to.

Before he began to stifle the habit, Dogma had a tendency to stim especially by chewing. As a tubie, it was often the collar or sleeves of his shirt; in blues, he bit his fingernails; throughout intermediates, his stylus was distinct because it was the one with the tooth marks. By the final stage of training in his reds, he'd mostly managed to make himself stop but the habit crept up on him around stressful times. It wasn't uncommon to see Dogma studying for an exam slapping his stylus down on the table determined not to bite it, only for it to end up between his teeth in five minutes' time

(This despite his worry about "damaging GAR property")

Rhythm is a consistent stim for him since he can do it internally: repeating words in his head in a certain cadence, the left-right-left of a march, anything he can run in his head because they can't tell he's doing it. Consequently he was/is among the best at drills in his training group

Routine, routine, routine. Absolutely thrives in the routine of military life—not uncommon for clones, given their entire upbringing, but similar to rules the structure of it all is actively soothing where others just are used to it

Alexithymia

Seriously, other than "pissed off because something is unfair" or "that's breaking the rules, that's Wrong" which are two very straightforward feelings, he is not good at identifying his emotions. Let alone recognising that he's actively really experiencing them.

Not much better at reading other people's emotions. A common complaint during training was that he didn't see why it mattered, because someone's stance in a fight both gave away more AND was more important to be able to interpret than their face (and one he still stands by, thank you very much)

Difficulty reading faces means he finds it difficult to distinguish between someone being subtly mean or just teasing. Errs on the side of assuming they are, which means he enters a lot of conversations as defensive if not mildly hostile.

Low empathy, finds it very difficult to put himself in someone else's shoes

Therefore is – unfortunately, in some circumstances – largely trusting of people and especially authority figures; in their position, he would not have bad intentions so he does not assume it for them. This, paired with the strict following the rules... Umbara. Umbara happens.

With the exception of in training/battlefields, often does not respond to intuited questions—sometimes he fails to recognise them entirely, sometimes he doesn't answer because they might not want him to. Makes small talk difficult and he comes off as a lot more disinterested and blunt than usually intended.

(As a cadet, frequently found his full answers being cut off or laughed at and began to pre-empt this by waiting on someone to ask him to clarify)

On the battlefield, however, information is key so he can and will answer every question to the fullest extent required.

Seeks out and requires a lot more time alone than most clones do

Struggles with grey areas, prone to black or white thinking. Something is right, or wrong. Bad or good. Binary.

Struggles with changing his mental framework even for minor things. Has a very rigid thought pattern

Interested in linguistics, and often searches up new words/slang to understand it, particularly new idioms as they are the hardest to understand. Genuinely just interested in language though!

Hyposensitive to pain, due to bad interoception (internal sense of the body - different to proprioception, which is about the body's position relative to things); this was frequently a positive during training simulations, though it meant he also tended to aggravate still-healing injuries

He does not avoid the medbay, but he does loathe it. His blunted affect and propensity to answer only the precise question he's asked have left Kaminoans, primarily, but also some past medics doubting whether he's in the pain he claims to be when hurt

(Kix does not doubt him. This is possibly even more unsettling.)

If a hug doesn't make it hard to breathe, it's not tight enough for him. Used to sleep under multiple blankets in Kamino's warmer season when his brothers discarded them. Deep pressure is very soothing.

(He'd rather die than actually ask for a hug, though. Or a blanket.)

Doesn't understand why people find inventory boring. He'll agree it's hardly the most intellectually stimulating duty but there's something nice about organisation (but don't ask about it unless you want to hear his full, lengthy thoughts on the subject)

When possible, he separates the food on his plate to ensure he gets some of every element in each bite, and he's learnt to do it pretty quickly too. Can finish a meal this way as fast as his brothers who just shovel it down regardless.

Their field rations don't bother him as much as they seem to bother everyone else. They're always consistent in texture and taste. That's a good thing, as far as Dogma is concerned.

The best way to find out what's on Dogma's mind is to give him a task that requires minimal concentration and no eye contact—he's much more likely to relax and accidentally talk more freely when he's distracted. Conversely, while being upfront with words helps, a face-to-face confrontation about anything even slightly emotional—barring an argument—is the best way to find out how stubborn and closed off he can be.

Struggles to categorise his relationships with people and to judge their level of closeness. Most of the time, someone outright calling him a friend is the first time he will let himself consider that they are a friend of his, too.

(There are not many people he knows on more than a passing acquaintance, and fewer still as friends)

Loyalty to people he's close to, primarily his batchmates, often presents as being overbearing and/or domineering in an attempt to protect them—well-intentioned but maladaptive. Less so since he was a cadet, but it runs deep.

[squidsponge]

Analyzing the Clone Assassins: Part 1

A little comparison between the season 2 clone assassin vs. Tech the assassin who is so laughably not Cody, and how they interact with their superior officers. Their voices and cadence are completely different.

The original CX patiently waiting for orders, arms crossed, but he holds himself tall and professional like a classic clone.

Tech CX-2 does not wait to be spoken to before questioning why his time is being wasted. He is petulantly hunched in on himself and does not verbally acknowledge the request of his superior officer. He stares blankly at Wolffe when getting chewed out. (he is also covered in gadgets and is probably upset about being interrupted while modifying his gear)

It's almost like the brainwashing didn't fully take and this clone has a problem with being ordered around by 'regs.'

Stay tuned for part 2, a gif filled infodump inspired by the person who tried to tell the internet that CX-2 has prosthetic legs

[tennessoui]

wip wednesday (early cause im offline tmrw)

When the dust settles, Obi-Wan is surprised to find himself still standing.

It takes all of him, he thinks, the end of the war. It takes everything he has.

He used to wonder, in a distant, nebulous way, what it would feel like in the aftermath. How his life would return to the routines he held before Geonosis, if the cadence of Temple life would feel strange and unfamiliar to him after so long spent in the trenches. If he would miss the sound of his men behind and around him, the steady stream of words and laughter and presence of others, at all times, surrounding him.

It’s only when the dust settles, when the first grains of sand whip through the arid desert air to sting his eyes, that he realizes that every time he ever allowed himself to think about the end of the war, he’d always assumed that they would win. He had never truly thought they would be defeated. That the Jedi Order, the Temple itself, so strongly entrenched in the galaxy and in Coruscant and in Obi-Wan’s world view, were capable of falling.

He had cautioned others against the same assumptions the moment he heard them. He had warned his own padawan to not look too far into the future, to not plan too much for the war’s end. He had told many people—clones, civilians, holonet reporters, other Jedi—that it was dangerous to think of the war as something they would inevitably win. Nothing was inevitable, especially not victory.

But he realizes now, only now, only as he traverses the desert on the back of a stolen eopie, wearing robes still smelling so strongly of volcanic sulfur that his eyes are stinging with reactionary tears, that he’d thought. He’d always thought. 

He’d never really considered…this.

This aftermath, where he is still standing on shaking legs and everything that he has ever cared for in the world has become ash, has become the dust settling around him.

Everything he has ever known and loved and fought for has slipped through his fingers. When the dust settles, when he looks down at his hands, he expects to find them empty.

Instead, there is a baby in his arms.

And he knows—he knows intimately how much damage these hands are capable of. What hurt these hands can inflict even on those he loves. Loved. 

He knows, as the homestead rises up in the fading light of the two suns, that these hands should not cradle this baby. Not the son of the man he has murdered. Not his brother’s son. Not his padawan’s. Not Anakin’s.

He knows the babe is safest here on this farm in the care of this couple. He knows he must leave the child with them, to raise and love a thousand times better than he is capable of. He has tried before. He has failed one Skywalker already.

He knows. 

And he can’t. He cannot let him go.

While the Galactic empire rises on one side of the galaxy, the dust settles on the other and Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the babe in his hands and realizes that he cannot let him go.

Not another Skywalker.

[phoenixponyposting]

Phoenix’s next Gen-

Main characters sexuality’s and genders-

Main six-

Twilight Sparkle- nonbinary, she/her, bi lesbian

Pinkie pie- Gender Queer, any pronouns, pan

Rainbow Dash- trans masc nonbinary, she/her he/him, bi lesbian

Apple Jack- butch trans fem, she/her, lesbian

Rarity- questioning but goes by cis mare, she/her they/them, bi

Fluttershy- gender queer, she/her they/them, aro ace

Spike- gender fluid, he/him, questioning

Royalty-

Celestia- Gender fluid, she/her he/him, pan

Luna- nonbinary, they/them, pan

Shining Armor- trans stallion, he/him, bi

Cadence- trans mare, she/her, pan

Sombra- agender, he/him (so he’s a KING), gay

Chrysalis- agender, she/her (so she’s a QUEEN), aro ace (only marries politically)

Tirek- cis man, he/him, aro ace (also only married politically)

Others-

Starlight Glimmer- cis mare, she/her, lesbian

Sunburst- trans stallion, he/him, bi

Flash sentry- cis stallion, he/him, gay

Trixie- trans mare, she/her, the great and powerful, her name, lesbian

Cheese Sandwich- cis stallion, he/him they/them, bi

Phoenix (survived pinkie pie clone)- gender queer/fluid, he/him they/them, pan

…To be added on to later…

[measlyscrapofseafood]

hello star wars nation

[quidam-vir]

The Latin Collaborative & Creative Internet

Welcome to my little reference post! I love all the crowd sourced places and places of creative expression on the Internet. I especially love when small communities, like Latin speakers, come together and do cool things. I want to shout-out some of these Latin-specific projects and places just to spread possibilities for the wide-reaching īnsolitī hominēs around the globe. Grow community resources, express yourself or have something fun to do if you're bored.

1. Software Translations (Launchpad)

Over at launchpad they crowdsource translations for a bunch of open source software. Think of your favorite open source software and chances are it'll be on there and you could help make a Latin version. Applications range from Blender to Chromium to Ubuntu to a Dice Roller or Tetris clone

I have the dream of assembling a team of good Latin translators to complete the translation of Linux Mint and help create the first major operating system entirely in Latin.

2. Victionarium

Love Wiktionary? I know I do. How about Wiktionary in Latin? Create definitions and dictionary entries for Latin words, in Latin. The more it's built up, the better this resource would be for learning new words.

Helping add Latin words or forms to the English Wiktionary is also helpful, sed scīlicet the Latin one needs in more.

3. Vicipaedia

Another Wikimedia project, who could've guessed? The Latin Wikipedia, Vicipaedia, is another great resource and one that could use more contributors. If you are knowledgeable, willing to learn, and good at Latin writing, try it out!

4. LibriVox

Are you one of the few that enjoy and are confident speaking Latin? Even if you're not, practice makes perfect! LibriVox is well known for a host of free audiobooks, and this includes ones in Latin. They could certainly use more volunteers for the language, no matter which pronunciation system or cadence you prefer.

Places with a 'Latin' Post Setting

There are a few places you can write or post where you specifically can mark a post as being in Latin, and filter accordingly. Any I run across will be put below

1. AO3

Not a huge surprise—unlike the 99 currently existing Latin fics.

2. BlueSky

The Twitter clone from a while back has a language search and select with Latin (and some other old languages too)

If anyone has anymore places/projects to add, subtus narrā mihi!

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 65

Tech has his own way of handling the stress of the recent intrusion.

I also had to split it up, or it would hve been way to long.

Masterlist | AO3

Chapter 65: Mittens

As Tech steps out onto the platforms of Tipoca City with Orion cradled against his chest, the gentle patter of the rain hitting the facility surrounds them. The cool, misty air envelops them both, contrasting with the warmth of Orion nestled in his father's arms. The rhythmic sound of rain hitting the metal surfaces creates a calming melody. Which is as familiar to Tech as it has to be for Orion, even if it may not have the same calming effect yet.

Tech takes a leisurely stroll along the bridges, the soft pitter-patter of raindrops echoing in the background. The reflections of the neon lights on the wet surfaces add a surreal glow to the environment. Orion, bundled up in a cosy outfit, gazes curiously at the rain-slicked surroundings with his bright blue eyes. Tech's mind, usually occupied with tactical calculations and technical details, finds a rare moment of solace in the simple act of walking with his son. The familiar scent of the rain-soaked air mingles with the subtle fragrance of Orion's baby shampoo. The sound of distant thunder reverberates, creating a soothing backdrop to their stroll.

Tech, immersed in the tranquillity of the moment, reflects on the challenges they face and the need to protect Orion from the prying eyes of the Kaminoans. Orion, oblivious to the complexities of his surroundings and the depth of his father’s thoughts, responds with innocent babbles and tiny grasps at the raindrops. His tiny fingers, encased in mittens, try to catch the droplets, creating a heart-warming scene. Tech can't help but smile, appreciating the simplicity and purity of these moments with his son. As they continue their walk, the rain serves as a cleansing force, washing away the tensions and uncertainties that lingered in the in their everyday lives.

Tech, finding a sheltered alcove shielded from the rain which intensified, another storm about to rage over Kamino, gently lowers himself to his knees, creating a makeshift haven for Orion. With precise movements, Tech positions Orion, supporting him under the arms, ensuring his tiny boots meet the cool surface of the formed puddle. Orion, snugly dressed and sheltered from the elements, looks down with wide-eyed curiosity at the reflective pool beneath his feet.

Tech, always calculating and vigilant, observes Orion's reactions. The puddle, a miniature world to the little one, captures his attention. His tiny hands, encased in mittens, reach down to touch the water, creating ripples that mirror the raindrops around them. Orion's babbling adds a joyful counterpoint to the ambient sounds of the rain. Tech, momentarily setting aside the complexities of his usual calculations, finds himself engrossed in the shared experience. The cool water beneath Orion's boots and the gentle touch of raindrops become sensory delights for the little one. The reflective surface mirrors their silhouettes, creating a snapshot of this father-son escapade on Kamino.

As the rain continues its dance, Tech relishes in the simplicity of the moment. Orion's laughter mingles with the rain's gentle cadence, creating a precious memory etched against the backdrop of Kamino's sterile metallic structures. In this sheltered alcove, father and son find solace, temporarily shielded from the demands of duty and the scrutinizing eyes of the Kaminoans and other clones.

As the distant rumble of thunder gradually transforms into a resonant roar, Orion's bright eyes widen with a mixture of curiosity and unease. The sound, amplified by the open expanse of Kamino's platforms, reaches him with an intensity he hasn't experienced before. Tech, attuned to Orion's reactions, senses the subtle shift in his demeanour, quickly getting up and holding him close.

Orion, nestled in his father's arms, grips the fabric of Tech's jacket, seeking comfort from the sudden onslaught of sound. His little body tenses, and his gaze searches the skies, trying to comprehend the source of this new auditory experience. The rain now falling more steadily and rapidly, adds its own percussion to the symphony of the storm. Tech, ever the analytical mind, adjusts his stance, ensuring that Orion is shielded from the rain and the unrelenting sound of thunder. He softly speaks to Orion, his voice a soothing undercurrent against the backdrop of the storm. The rhythmic patter of raindrops on the metallic surfaces provides a counterpoint to the deep resonance of thunder.

With a practiced motion, Tech loosens the hood of Orion's protective covering, allowing him to peer out at the rain-soaked surroundings. The distant flashes of lightning illuminate the cloudy canvas above, momentarily transforming Kamino's gloomy atmosphere into a captivating display of nature's power. As the thunderstorm intensifies, Tech continues to comfort Orion, his steady presence and calming words acting as a steadfast anchor. The once-startled expressions on Orion's face gradually yield to a mixture of wonder and acceptance, as if he's beginning to understand that the storm, while formidable, is a natural occurrence. But with each thunder, Orion seems to forget what Tech tried to say.

Tech, mindful of Orion's vulnerability to the storm's sensory assault, swiftly retreats into the facility, seeking refuge from the overwhelming sounds of the storm. As the thunders are now quicker in succession. The metallic echo of rain is replaced by the comforting hum of the facility's climate control as they step through the door. Orion, still cradled in his father's arms, continues to whimper, his bright blue eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and fear.

Finding a more secluded area, Tech gently lowers himself to the ground, supporting Orion with his hands under the tiny arms, leaning him against his legs. Orion, now focused on his father's face, seems to find solace in the connection. Tech, using a soothing tone, begins to explain the phenomena of thunder and lightning to Orion. “Orion, you see, thunder and lightning are like a dance in the sky. When you see that bright flash, that's the lightning. And then, the loud sound that follows, that's the thunder. They happen together because lightning makes the air around it really hot, and that creates the sound we hear as thunder.” And he dives even more into the physics of it, before he decides to head back.

As Tech navigates the sterile corridors of Kamino, not stopping his explanation, Orion's cries finally subsided. The explanation, combined with the return to the familiar, controlled environment, helps ease Orion's distress. Tech reassures him with a soft cadence of words, emphasizing that they are now safe from the elements, shielded by the facility's walls. Continuing his gentle narrative, Tech points out a nearby window, where occasional flashes of lightning paint brief, vivid patterns in the darkened sky. He uses simple words to convey the natural beauty and scientific principles behind the storm. Orion, still cradled in his father's arms, watches the mesmerizing display with wide-eyed wonder.

The storm, once a source of apprehension, becomes an educational moment for Orion, guided by Tech's measured explanations. As the echoes of thunder gradually fade into the background, Tech uses this opportunity to impart not only scientific knowledge but also a sense of security and understanding to his son. The two of them, nestled within Kamino's protective embrace, continue their exploration of the world, one lesson at a time. No matter if Orion is to young to understand, Tech will gladly explain it again… and again.

Tech chuckles, interpreting Orion's playful tugs at his hood as a form of communication. He adjusts the hood, as they walk through the corridors, Tech continues engaging with Orion, savouring these simple yet precious interactions. "Pulling on my hood, are we? Perhaps you're suggesting I need extra protection from the storm, or maybe you're just showing off your budding fashion sense." Orion responds with more enthusiastic babbles, his tiny hands exploring the textures of Tech's jacket. Tech relishes in the joy of sharing these moments with his son. The bond between them deepens with each step, reinforced by the subtle gestures and playful antics that bridge the gap between father and child.

As they approach the squad barracks, the familiar presence of his brothers awaits. Tech, with Orion still comfortably nestled in his arms, enters the shared space. The atmosphere shifts from the controlled environment of the facility to the warm camaraderie of the squad's quarters. Tech, always attuned to Orion's needs, ensures that the transition from the stormy outdoors to the familiar space of the barracks is seamless. Orion, now surrounded by the comforting presence of his family, continues to explore the world through his bright blue eyes, eager for the next adventure, lesson, or playful moment with his father and uncles.

Crosshair, arching a sceptical brow, gazes at Orion's mittens with a hint of amusement. "Mittens? Really?" he quips, his tone carrying a touch of dry humour. "Is Kamino suddenly turning into Hoth, Tech?" Tech, undeterred by Crosshair's scepticism, responds with a calm demeanour. "Crosshair, it's merely a precaution. Kaminoan temperatures tend to be on the cooler side, especially during a storm, and I'd rather not risk Orion catching a cold."

Wrecker, always ready to inject a playful remark, chimes in with a hearty laugh. "Yeah, Crosshair, you never know when Hoth might be next on our mission list. Gotta be prepared!" Crosshair smirks, giving a slight nod in acknowledgment. The banter among the squad members adds a layer of warmth to the otherwise sterile surroundings of Kamino, which seems not to the standard for this barracks. Meanwhile, Orion, oblivious to the banter about mittens and Hoth, babbles contentedly in Tech's arms, occasionally reaching out to explore the world with his tiny gloved hands.

Tech, carefully removing Orion's mittens and then unzipping the warm jacket, lets out a small chuckle as Orion reacts with glee to the raindrops. "Enjoying the rain remnants?" he says with a soft smile, his voice affectionate. The simple joy in Orion's response brings a warmth to the hearts of the squad members. As Tech begins to undress Orion, the baby gazes up at him with bright blue eyes, seemingly fascinated by the process. Tech, ever efficient, selects a breathable onesie for Orion, ensuring the comfort of his son during sleep.

Wrecker, who has been watching the interaction, adds in a boisterous tone, "Looks like we've got a rain-loving little trooper here!" “Unless it involves thunder,” Tech explains in agreement, finishing the dressing routine with practiced ease. He cradles Orion in his arms, now in lighter sleepwear, and begins to softly hum a calming tune. The gentle atmosphere, filled with the sound of raindrops and Tech's soothing melody, creates a serene moment within the squad's quarters.

Crosshair, ever observant, notes the scene with a subtle smile. "Tech, you're turning into quite the dad," he remarks, a hint of approval in his voice, but clearly amused of hearing his brother hum. Tech glances over at Crosshair, a soft expression on his face. "I suppose I am," he replies, his attention returning to Orion.

Wrecker's laughter echoes through the barracks as he claps Tech on the back, with Tech holding Orion just a bit tighter. "Six months, and you're already a pro at this dad stuff!" Echo nods in agreement. "Time does seem to fly, Tech. It feels like just yesterday we were relaxing and you told us you need to try some flying manoeuvre out, and now look at you. A diaper changing soldier."

Tech, holding Orion in his arms, shares a small but proud smile with the squad. "Indeed. It's been quite the journey. And I would do it all over again." Crosshair, ever the sharpshooter, observes, "The kid's growing fast. Ready for a mission on Hoth with those mittens." Tech chuckles, "Maybe not Hoth just yet," as he begins the process of getting a bottle ready for Orion.

Chapter 66

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @neyswxrld @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd @sskim-milkk @heidnspeak

Got press on nails after not wearing them since my operation last year. Feels strange but familiar, just gotta get used to an even length of all. Typos here I come.

[falling-components]

selfcest is funny to me. obviously i'd fuck my own clone (gay) but there's also the classic idea of alternate versions of yourself that danced to the cadence of a slightly different instrument. somewhere out there in the infinite of possibility there's a version of myself that's also running a tumblr blog but as a strict submissive doggirl thing that says "uweh i need my holes filled :3" and i actually need to grab its limbs and sever every one of her nerves and burn her gently with clingfire with my cock in her mouth for both our spiritual health. while she begs me to do it harder. then we cuddle after. does this make sense, friends