#clone by conversion

[multiplicationdivision]

The Transmutation Crew

It wasn’t uncommon to see a construction crew that was entirely identical these days.

It wasn’t cloning, not exactly. With the advent that was transmutation technology, even duplication wasn’t out of the question, but these copied crews did not come from mitosis.

Transmutation was the simple conversion of one material to another. Using a small sample of rare material and converting cheap shit into it. Clay could become ultrahard steel, paint could become a thick gold coating. Construction sites were rife with the machines, letting off heavy bangs as entire freshly built structures were changed at the atomic level into sturdy workings of titanium and diamond.

Like anything on a construction site, there was an expected level of risk. One would fear the conversion of a man becoming hard rock, but this technology had laws. Like became like, inanimate struggled to be animate and vice versa. This risk was rather functionally pretty harmless.

Foreman Adams operates the transmutator, the closest position to the samples of once-rare resources stored at its core. Foreman Adams flips the switched to convert cheap plywood to mahogany, and his own signal echoes outwards as well.

3 men taking a break just a little too close look at their new shared faces, clade in the same belt tucked shirt and blue jeans that had been pristine a decade ago, but were now clung with dust. 2-year-old boots they could all remember shelling out a fair bit of money for, worth it for how well they’d held up.

These new memories always sat comfortably by the original mind. One of the men, Dustin, wouldn’t think twice about how one half of him had been so much shorter a second ago whilst the other felt that he’d functionally teleported away from the machine that his original self was still operating. Dustin would just down the rest of his water and stretch his new bulkier form, absent-mindedly wondering if Adams would let him come home with him that night. Spend a night with his foreman’s rocking husband, reenact countless memories of that man getting fucked by small armies of Adams.

These transformations were typically temporary. Selfhood was overpowering and most people’s identities would win out in the end, shoving off the new skin and memories after a night of rest. Possibly retaining a few errant qualities of the shift that fit well into the original self, acquiring a small amount of muscle or confidence for their trouble. That took practice though, so most of them expected the new kids to fall under the influence of one of their elders for a bit. Or for forever, either or.

A college drop-out they’d picked up a while back hadn’t been on the job for a day before one of their veterans, Roland, had unwillingly taken him under his wing. A single blast and that kid’s face had seemingly shifted permanently, all his shaggy hair shortening into a clean cut and scraggly beard rapidly becoming well-kept. They’d expected the new appearance to fade in a month, but it had been a few too many by this point and it was safe to assume the Rolands would remain a pair. Not that those two were complaining, all buddy buddy between themselves, the drop-out assuming Roland’s identity so much that none on the crew even got to learn his old name. Roland happy to share his house and cigarettes with a man who shared all of his tastes.

Some people were suited to their own self. Call it narcissistic, but each of them enjoyed their turn. It was why operator duty of the transmutator was always an alternating duty. Each of them enjoying a day to themselves, in a way. It was bonding, being this vulnerable. The whole crew having access to every single one of each other’s deep internal lives, understanding it as they did. Mateo’s love for partying, shared across each of the crew after work, picking up chicks and twinks as an identical legion. Archie’s drinking problems, leading his identically bodied friends to embrace the man’s passion for football, all of them shouting for the same team as they lay across each other on a too small couch in one of their living rooms. Lucas’s daredevil tendencies leading five or six of them with broken arms and ecstatic grins in the hospital, regretting nothing and daring to do more the next go around.

This job was one of absolute connection and it wasn’t for the faint of heart. Countless amounts of prospective workers turning away when their soul wasn’t willing to play with new faces, was too rigid to go with the flow. The ones that stayed embraced it, trading jabs and inside jokes as they got to know each other from the inside out. Jose’s body craved a good steak no matter the time. Dallas’s brain was somehow still closeted, despite having fucked countless genders in everyone of his buddies’ bodies. Archie would get amusingly embarrassed even when another one of himself joked about how much they masturbated, especially so when the definition of masturbation was quite stretched in their cases.

Tonight, the guys would likely all go home in Pedro’s truck. Each of them shrugging off the man’s high vis vest in a pile of replicated clothing by the door. Pairs of them fitting into a shower before relaxing outside with their small army of clones. Inevitably curling up with as many as could fit on the bed, enjoying the way their shared brains didn’t mind the overbearing closeness of so many bodies. The newest of their crew would spend too long in the bathroom, acquainting themselves with every curve of Pedro’s older body as the veterans fought over blankets as their favorite talk show murmured in front of them. They’d probably fuck a bit, then pass out. Wake up to some of them in their own bodies as the remaining clones made breakfast, acting as good hosts for their “guests”.

They was nothing closer than a construction crew these days. Nothing like transmutation to make you trust them like you trust yourself, literally placing your life in their hands.

It was the good life, and twenty of the same face could attest to that.

[clonemediaarchive]

Chain, a escaped personality from Legion (x-men). Chain can convert the people he touches into clones of himself

[leon-anna]

You wouldn't believe how long Leon has had this one tucked away. Until recently, it had been virtually collecting dust on her procreate app without anyone to admire its craftsmanship. I now have the grand privilege of posting it to our wonderful chaos site 😁 I think you'll all really enjoy the Domino Twins in this 10 panel story! K, that's all, see ya later👋

[rooksunday]

thinking about fox getting his first poll card after the vode get citizenship. the guard scattered after sithsplosion day, but he and a score or so that were functionally useless without each other, like nervous space greyhounds with military training, all ended up bundled together on some planet in the mid rim.

he’s been working on a book about his years at the senate. no one knows about it aside from thorn, who has been checking his basic, and advising him where he needs to wind the reveals back a little because libel. the rest of the time he does payroll for a number of small businesses, picking and choosing his hours, and delighting in sending invoices for his business: the shiny security fund, he’s called it, to continue the tradition in a more official manner.

(when they’d been on triple zero, the fund had been for rations. blankets. bacta. they’d conned credits from tourists and stolen them from senators and turned those credits into hope for the poor bastards shipped to the city that ate shinies before they could ever earn paint. these days, the fund was for whatever his guard wanted. aside from a pony. fox couldn’t figure out where hound would keep the pony.)

the book had been born from two lists. one was the blackmail and gossip the guard had collected during their stint on coruscant; that was where thorn needed to check for dangers, but since most of those senators had died in sith-related incidents, or had been jailed when the media got hold of their dealings, all fox was doing was providing context.

the other part of the book was fox’s List. thire sometimes called it a manifesto, because he had been studying for his degree and liked to show off occasionally. the list was a suggestion of changes to the republic, some small, some large. it was a silly fancy of fox’s, as the whole book was, but if he couldn’t indulge himself in his own karkin’ book then they might as well have punted him off the high levels back on coruscant.

yet for all that he’d settled—and paid taxes, even—fox hadn’t felt part of the citizenship of the planet. then the poll card had arrived. and suddenly he mattered in a tangible way. just like the bothan baker next door did. just like the twi’lek downstairs, the one with the noisy kriffin’ speeder, did.

thorn found fox in the kitchen, still staring at the scrap of card. he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“you okay there, chief?” he asked. he’d been trying out alternatives to ‘sir’. “noise complaint again?”

fox shook his head. he didn’t look up. “voting thing. there’s an election.”

“oh! yeah, we got ours yesterday. are you— what’s that face you’re making. i don’t think i like it.”

fox raised his head and gleamed his smile at thorn, who backed away slightly, one hand drifting to where a blaster once hung. fox’s eyes felt very wide. he jabbed the poll card like a vibroknife.

“do you know what this means?”

“democracy comes in two postal batches?”

“no! well, yes, apparently, and that’s inefficient, but— no!” fox jabbed the card again. “this means i am a citizen and i am about to make that a senator’s problem. where’s my manifes— list, thorn? it’s time for an update.”

[crashlanding-skywalker]

Crosshair: I hate being touched. The only physical contact I would tolerate is punching someone in the face.

Hunter: Echo is literally hugging you right now.

Crosshair: This is completely different.

[iszapizza]

Tea time with Omega and Wrecker! (feat. Echo who brings them cookies)

[mwolf0epsilon]

Fox, having just sat down at his desk with a steaming hot cup of caf:

Thorn, peeking into Fox's office: Fox, we got a TIT in progress at Senator Bartoni's residence.

Fox, groaning: Send in Plumber Squad with the capture equipment. They know the drill...

Thorn, nodding on his way out: Roger that.

Fox, shakes his head and takes a sip of his caf:

Thire, running into Fox's office: Sir! We have a PENIS warning!

Fox, sighing: Is Feather out of the medbay yet?

Thire: Negative.

Fox: Send in Crackerjack then.

Thire: Crackerjack is also in the medbay.

Fox: Then ask Stone to pull Wingdings from his shift at the prison.

Thire, rushing off: On it!

Fox, massaging his temples: One normal morning... That's all I'm asking...

Hound, looking in: Sir, one of Senator Roszvel's Aides got eaten by a ROUS.

Fox, throwing his hands up in defeat: KARKING DAMN IT!

[voidartisan]

Obi-Wan learns very quickly that the best way to restrain Anakin when he’s about to run off is to just. Grab his padawan by the neck of his robes and press him against his side so that he can’t get away. Anakin’s too tall and strong for it to work by the time he’s sixteen or so, but his instinct is still to grab the reckless small person and hug them when they need to be stopped.

He doesn’t even give it a second thought when he does it to Ahsoka about three weeks after she enters the picture. She freezes immediately, unsure if she’s supposed to fight back and Anakin laughs so hard he almost falls over.

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #88

Superman didn’t know how to handle having a clone. He was fighting the urge to get close to Kon, guide him in a way no one had been able to Clark, with feeling violated every time he saw the boy. He didn’t want to hate Kon, but he didn’t know how to balance his own emotions. 

When Clark admits this to Batman, he suggests someone who can help: Phantom. Dani Phantom.

[starry-bi-sky]

more clone^2 thoughts

you know who i just remembered ALSO has long hair? Vlad. Vlad Masters. Danny's worst enemy and biggest pain in the ass ever since he sent those vulture ghosts after his fucking dAD. Danny having long hair would make Vlad so inSUFFERABLE. Like look!! Proof that you are much better off as MY son. We have matching hair lengths! Come be my son! I will make you a halfa like me and we will become powerful allies together!

Danny almost chops it off out of spite. He ends up not doing it because he likes his hair long, actually, very much so and he's not growing it out again just because you're crazy! He's attempted to take a pair of scissors to Vlad's hair though -- THAT was a fight that got ugly. Danny's go-to threat whenever he sees him after that is that he's going to chop off vlad's hair when he's not looking - just you watch, Masters. He'll do it. HE'LL DO IT.

And if Danny wasn't keeping it a tight secret, he'd turn around and taunt Vlad about being a) a clone and b) a clone of BRUCE WAYNE. he'd say stuff like:

"How's it feel knowing my parents cloned a man richer than you"

"you're just mad that bruce wayne is more my dad than you'll ever be!"

"it could've been you that my parents accidentally cloned instead of Wayne, but instead you fucked off for twenty years instead!"

but also its a constant question Danny asks himself how he and no one else ever figured it out sooner that he was a clone. He doesn't understand how Vlad of all people didn't realize it when he went to college with the man with his parents and was also stinking rich, before remembering that he doubts Vlad remembers anyone who wasn't his parents in college, and has been a rich, recluse loser this entire time.

its a good thing though, danny's pretty sure vlad would attempt a hit on the man if he found out out of pure jealousy and indignant rage. And then he'd get his ass beat by Batman and his army of children.

All in all, Dany is a pure menace towards Vlad whenever he gets the chance, as is normal, and then Vlad's suffering gets doubled after he makes Ellie - of which she is even worse than Danny because she's the halfa that Danny Is NOt and thus has the powers to break into his house easy peasy and wreck shit. She steals his obsidian black card and goes on a shopping spree. This is a regular occurrence.

(and for anyone who isn't aware - Ellie is the same age as Danny in clone^2 bc i thought it'd be fun)

And then it gets tripled once Damian joins the family and gets caught up to speed on all of Vlad's tomfoolery and whoops, Damian's got better stealth skills than Danny and looks like Ellie has a partner in crime whenever they need to sneak into vlad's house to cause him grief.

Vlad's walls are the first canvas for Damian to test out his new spray paints on once he gets them :)

next up

Wes weston! i love this guy, he's so funny and he definitely knows danny is the Phantom in the clone^2 au. it's not as easy to figure out as it is in canon since its not just a simple colorswap, but perhaps he sees Danny taking off his mask after a daytime fight. and after that he becomes determined to reveal that quiet, strange fenton is the vigilante phantom.

he's putting some real,,, detectiveness? stalkerish? skills to use because catching photos of phantom is not as easy as it is if he were a halfa. He can't just snap a few dozen photos of fenton and phantom and then color compare the two of them either - Phantom wears a mask, and works primarily at night or in evenings, and typically avoids the living during the day. And he doesn't speak to the living either. Wes has to put in some extra work into his investigations and evidence.

He also makes the dumb mistake of cornering Danny in the bathroom one day early on and telling him he knows he's the Phantom -- now that Danny knows that Wes knows, he's going to be even more careful not to get caught. He puts in a little extra work in both Fenton and Phantom - another layer, perhaps a jacket, as Phantom, and baggier pants and boots he never wears as Fenton. His hood stays up in the daytime.

He was already putting in some extra effort to appear creepy and unsettling as Phantom - things like crouching low, tense movements, fluid movements. If he's perched on something he does a kinda-crawl like movement - think a mix between a bear and a gorilla crawl. It's weird, creepy. And he stares. Danny's mastered the art of not needing to blink for long periods of time, so if he sees you and sticks around he stares. It doesn't help that you can't see his eyes that well through his mask - its just two piercing green.

It helps endear him to ghosts and his enemies though - the annoying little human boy is engaging in ghost culture! That's eliciting some form of begrudging respect from his enemies.

And then compare that creepy, almost cryptid-like behavior to Fenton who, while considered a freak, really isn't anything more than just some dorky weirdo with occasional heart problems. He's kinda unsettling - he has those 'stares into soul' eyes - but its leveled by the fact that he's kinda just... dorky. It reads as normal, awkward kid behavior, and then gets disregarded completely as he gets older and it bleeds into 'very chill teenager'. Fenton being Phantom doesn't compute that much.

Paulina: you think Phantom is Fenton? Wes: I don't think, I know he is! I have proof-- Star: Just because they both have black hair doesn't mean they're the same, Wes. That's like saying Paulina and Manson are sisters because they also have black hair.

Wes's attempts to out him as Phantom means that Danny is a little more wary of him than he is in canon, since his vigilante identity isn't an entirely different ghost form its just him, so he has to be careful about where or when he takes off his mask in case Wes is around. Especially during daytime fights.

But other than that he has a lot of time messing with him. Wes is trying to convince his table group at lunch that Fenton = Phantom (again) and Danny just so happens to be within earshot of him and starts making fun of the idea.

"You think I'm Phantom?" and he's got the most disbelieving grin on his face that's only partially convincing. "That's totally bogus, man. The Phantom famously doesn't get along with my parents, why would I be a ghost hunter and not work with them?"

He has this most shit-eating, delighted look in his eyes that Wes knows is pure manic glee at being able to mess with him and get away with it. Wes is going to strangle him.

"Besides, dude, did you forget I have a heart condition? I can't be chasing around ghosts - my heart would give out from all that running and jumping."

Although Danny can get really serious at the flip of a coin if need be - especially with Wes when he gets too pushy about him being Phantom. A notable instance is when Wes cornered him in an empty bathroom to again talk about him being Phantom.

Except Danny, who had been working on a really difficult cold case about the death of a child, and hadn't gotten much sleep in the last 72 hours, plus a plethora of other stuff (like recently acquiring Damian, fighting ghosts, etc), wasn't in the mood to entertain him. It ended with Weston getting pinned to the wall and lowkey threatened by Danny. He apologizes for it afterwards but it's not forgotten.

Additional note: Wes Weston having a crush on Danny Fenton is a hilarious trope to me so Wes absolutely has a crush on Danny and the only one in denial about it is him. Everyone else - except Danny because he's more focused on the fact that Wes knows his identity, and has other things to worry about - knows about it, and everyone chalks up his obsession with Danny as being part of said crush.

Wes' friend: you know usually when you have a crush on someone you normally confess, maybe ask them out, pine from afar....

Wes: i dont--

Wes's friend: not accuse him of being the local ghost-fighting vigilante. Seriously, wes! His parents are ghost hunters!

Wes: i do not have a crush

Wes's friend: and ghosts aren't real! everyone knows that's a lie!

next up

Dan! Or Dante, but i'll call him Dan for the time being. Even if I dislike the name with a passion. Much like Wrath from my Childhood Friends au, Dan here is pretty different from his canon counterpart. Mostly because I wanted to experiment with Dan and different interpretations of him, and I thought; hey, where no better than an au where Danny has no powers?

so, dan? Dan is not a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost halves -- now, don't get me wrong, danny still ends up under vlad's custody care after the death of his family, but he just doesn't fuse with Vlad's ghost.

So, what happened? What happened is that Vlad convinces a grieving Danny that he should let him make him a halfa (despite the fact that he has no idea how) because the he could go find his family in the ghost zone. Danny is in no mental state for any kind of experiments, but his hope and want to see his family and friends again gets him to agree.

It backfires. Vlad doesn't make Danny a halfa, he just ends up killing him completely. Danny comes back instantly as a ghost however, and enraged over being lied to, betrayed, and murdered, ends up killing Vlad in furious cold blood. He doesn't fuse with his ghost half, there's no ghost half to fuse with.

So a grieving ghost, Danny flees into the ghost zone. And, in this iteration, doesn't end up destroying the world. So how does TUE end up happening? Well, ten years later - with Danny remaining a forever 14 year old ghost - Dan ends up finding out about time travel. He finds out a way to travel back into the past, and he does.

So he can take over his past self's life. Danny just thinks he's fighting a weird doppleganger ghost, but ends up getting overshadowed. It's like being in a weird limbo, and Danny's not really sure what's happening - but his friends figure something out. After all, its been ten years since dan saw his friends, something has to give.

And that episode happens. Danny ends up meeting clockworth, beats Dan. But, well, it's not really happily ever after - somewhat. Ehh.. sorta. Danny's been traumatized by Dan's overshadowing - making him realize that despite everything, there are things ghosts can do that danny simply cannot and he needs to prepare for it. Onset paranoia, anyone?

Dan tells them his whole tragic backstory - there's a chance for redemption here, for him. For forgiveness. Not immediately, not yet, but its there. And he doesn't want to go back to the future - he's alone there. He's tired of being alone.

But he ends up being convinced - he needs to learn to look forward, not cling back. He can build himself up again, find new family. He doesn't have to be alone. So Dan goes back to the future.

"But come tell me if Vlad's giving you trouble --" and he smiles something wicked, "I'd be happy to handle him again"

and finally

not so much as any concrete thoughts as it is just me being emotional over Danny and Damian's brotherhood in this au and also Danny's hands. Again.

lIKE.. I put it in the tags of my reblog of my "danny's scarred hands' ficlet but im putting it here and its just?? Danny grabbing the blade of Damian's sword. Him grabbing the sword multiple times despite the fact that he knows it will hurt, that he will hurt himself. That he will keep hurting himself until Damian himself stops.

its just like??? whats it mean to spill your own blood just so that this little boy you've just met won’t have to ever again. he doesn't know any english and he is hurting you and yet you take him home and get him new clothes. he runs away and you go looking for him, every single time. you teach yourself arabic first so that you can converse with him.

this boy is a clone and so are you. you're a clone of his father he's a clone of your son - by nature of your existence this is your child. except its not your child, you don't have one, its just a little boy who happens to share the same dna as you. and you take him home and he becomes your little brother.

what's it mean when its you whose been hurt rather than him? whats it mean when you’d hurt yourself again just so that he can start to heal, so that he knows that he’s worth it? you cut your hands on his blade, catch its swing, just so this boy can know, can learn, that there’s someone who will bleed for him. that there's someone who will scar their hands just to make sure that you wont scar yours.

you’re a bleeding heart and its spilling out onto your palms. you take bloody fingers and wrap it around your little brother’s and say "its okay. it’s okay. you’re safe. no one will hurt you here. i promise. i wont let them. no one will hurt you so long as i'm around."

"put the sword down. i can show you how. let me show you how."

and damian in this au just reminds me of the song "eight" by sleeping at last. like?? the lYRICS. he is sO "eight" coded

'show me how to lay my sword down for long enough to let you through.' 'here i am. pry me open. what do you want to know?' 'im just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence' 'but here's a map. here's a shovel. here's my achilles' heel. im all in palms out. im at your mercy now and im ready to begin. i am strong enough to let you in.'

"by nature of our existence we are father and son, but by choice we are brothers. we are brothers we are brothers we are brothers. and i love you"

[multiplicationdivision]

Throwing in the Towel

Ever feel lonely at the gym? No partners in your weight class? Theres a simple solution.

Newbies are an excellent source of raw material in modern gyms. Typically young stupid 20 year olds with nothing but envy for the built muscles and skill of their superiors. They’d agree to anything to have it, and being fondled by a larger stronger man was a siren song in of itself for their starved horny little brains. Didn’t hurt that all that excitement made their blood run hot, made it all so much easier to work.

Harrison hadn’t even had to mourn his buddy cancelling last minute on their evening boxing before he was roping in the youngest guys in his gym, summoning them from where they hid aways from the gym. They were a pair of unconfident college kids, but Harrison could fix that. They’d been nothing but gleeful to accept to Harrison’s offer, despite having no idea what his “stretches” entailed. Harrisons demand that they be naked in the locker room had been irresistible for them, probably recalling the start of so many pornos they’d overwatched again and again.

They likely thought they were in one themselves and they weren’t exactly wrong.

It was simple enough to press them together. Their short scrawny bodies were just enough combined to equal Harrison’s own heavy musculature. Harrisons pressed them together like tough clay, their individual bodies resisting the pressure before finally giving, the distinction between their individual body parts giving out over the course of a small eternity as Harrison messaged the tension out of their muscles with his well-practiced technique. Convincing those muscles to bind between each other over his sculpting hands, anchoring them on fusing bones.

Harrison found the entire process quite enjoyable, creating true potential out of nobodies, allowing scrawny men to skip all that treacherous work of muscle aches and gym time so that they could get to the good part immediately.  There was the more physical parts of this process that he savored though.

Pressing two chest against his own until their respective person though they would break under the pressure before they let loose a shared gasp as their bodies fit together in one perfectly aligned slip. Harrison wrestling their squirming neuron confused body to the floor as he gave his attention to their waists, torturing the individual components of his little project as he enticed two cocks together without letting them release, bundling together all those sensitive nerves in a way that was surely electric to his new friends and letting it echo between their still separate heads.

He'd quickly move onto their legs, not caring to give them the satisfaction. His eyes were always on the prize and that was getting a few hours of gym time in before heading home. It was just business he always explained to his new friends, knowing that leaving them high and dry would make the coming night all the better. Nothing like multiplied nerves and a bit of boxing to make a man an absolute animal in bed.

They’d understand later, even if they begged in still separate voice for his mercy in let them finish. He shut them up by gripping their skulls and pressing as tight as he could. Watching their heads slowly push together, facial features swimming as their pale skin merged together and the bone compounded. Harrison could watch individual strands of hair join, as two mouths fits together and became one indistinct voice as irises shifted back and forth between colors.

Their separate DNA couldn’t decide what they should look like in this delicate stage, flashing with varying features of every trait possible in their genetic code. If Harrison left them like this, they would eventually balance out, becoming a perfect amalgam of their two parts. He’d done it before countless times and a fair bit of the men who’d frequented this boxing gym were products of such a thing. They’d come out either as a handsome man with merged memories or the two personalities sharing their combined form. He’d seen every variation of it, enjoyed every grateful night from the spectrum of unique fusions he would eventually bring home.

Harrison was in the mood to try something new today.

 Sure, combining two men would meld their individual skills and body into one greater whole, but there was always one problem. These newbies never amounted to much skill in the ring to match Harrison’s own, even with their combined competency. These boys had only about 6 weeks of boxing between them and that was nothing before Harrison’s years of the sport.

Harrison had a fix.

Their unstable form would be easy to meddle with and Harrison’s own body was all the more willing to influence. He could grip their shifting body and feel a bit of him merge with it, just enough to pass a trace of dominant information in between them. Siphoning a copy of everything that made Harrison himself into the indistinct man.

It was surprising how simple it was, feeling a version of himself sink into the accepting form. Feeling the connection to himself stretch as this copy of his memories and selfhood settle beside the two minds in the body before him. He could feel in real time how those two minds devoured that copy, integrating all the experience and skills of Harrison into themselves with reckless abandon.

The point he’d griped rippled and darkened with a slight tan, before the color and shape of body that Harrison knew well flowed across this smooth form. Muscle he’d quite literally fought for now replicated out of once soft weak mass, becoming distinct on the locker room floor. A naked man with his handsome face staring back at him with all the glee of his components, his scruffy beard and messy hair just as Harrison had left it that morning. He gave a sassy little flirt to his original, something like “Hey handsome” or “Did we always look so sexy”. Saying the cheesy shit that made it clear that the young men were still under it all, youthful energy filtered through the lens of Harrison’s personality.

He'd quickly gotten them dressed in his backup clothes, tossing them matching sneakers and shorts that he’d bought on the off chance that this fantasy would work. They were his perfect reflection and they knew he enjoyed it, making off comments as if they’d been with him when he’d bought his clothes. Claiming his memories as their own before they took to using his own techniques against him.

Pushing him against the locker room wall in a show of dominance before playing it off as rough housing. Coping a feel in between rounds of perfectly matched fights, knowing full well that they were dangling him off the edge in the same way that he was doing to them. Stealing his phone and keys because “They were his too”, as if they had a claim to every part of Harrison, knowing that such a concept would make his heart race.

Harrison was always in control, but such a thing was impossible now. This copy of himself wielded everything he did under the control of what was clearly still two separate horny little shits, paradoxically utilizing his manipulation with utmost skill despite how blatantly obvious it was. He’d optimistically call them equally matched, but their combined force of personality would likely overcome him.

His mind reeled at how much his body enjoyed that thought. He could feel his double taste the power shift in the air as they wrestled, so far from what was typical for boxing. Identical hands around him that Harrison knew could threaten just as much reality altering force as his own, threatening to change him just as Harrison had done to others his entire life.

In between the bludgeoning of their gloves against each other, Harrison’s mind wandered far. He was at this man’s mercy because he wanted to be and his own cock seemed to push all sense of self preservation aside. He’d given his identity to two reckless college kids and he wanted them to be as irresponsible with it as possible. To do everything he’d done and more.

Today was the only guarantee that they’d still be a pair of twins and lord knows if their number would grow or decrease. Harrison melded with another man at his double’s whims or absorbed into him as if he was nothing but a resource for more gains. Just clay to be sculpted.

Harrison’s twin grinned with all the shit eating danger of uncontained world altering libido and Harrison could only grin in return.

Tonight would be worth the risk and so would every night after.

It was a thrill Harrison could get used to.

[clonemediaarchive]

Some very short stories taken from the Science Fiction and Fantasy Forums.

https://www.sffchronicles.com/threads/574006/page-7#post-2332231

Extra story that I can’t find the source for

[fellthemarvelous]

"Relax. Echo's on it."

The Bad Batch has come a long way since "Unfinished Business"

Tech: Still not sure how we're gonna land on that ship. Rex: Don't worry. Echo says he's got a plan. Tech: That makes me feel so much better. Rex: What do you mean by that? Tech: To be blunt, his mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don't really know where his loyalties lie. Rex: Yeah. Well, I know. Now, get moving.

~~~~~

Tech: Trench is ordering all of his droids to the assembly complex. Hunter: All right, Echo, what are you trying to pull? Echo: Don't worry, that's what I told him to do. Rex: But our troops will be vastly outnumbered. Echo: Not when I send them a feedback pulse that shuts down all the droids. Tech: How do we know that's what you're really going to do? Rex: We have to trust him. Anakin: Rex is right. Echo, we're all counting on you.

~~~~~

Mace: I am pleased to report that we are in control of the assembly complex, and all of the fronts are falling to the Republic thanks to Echo's plan. Anakin: That's good news, Master Windu. We're on our way back to the base. Mace: May the Force be with you. Anakin: Good job, Echo. Hunter: Well, I guess you actually are on our side. Echo: Was there ever any doubt? Tech: Some. Echo: Well, thanks.

The highly competent Hero of Anaxes is the one the Bad Batch looks to for hope when they need it the most.

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Fordo: “I have a question for you, dear vod, do you feel anything when you take a life?”

Alpha-17: “And I have a question for you. Do you feel anything when you burn garbage?”

Fordo: “Nifty answer, sorry I asked.”

[ani-and-the-corries-au]

There are some things that all troopers know Nat born's will never understand.

All the troopers grew up in a world where perfection was the standard and anything less resulted in death. Where individuality was a crime and being anything more than just another number was a danger, Where saying the wrong thing in front of the wrong person could get you killed.

All troopers know this, but post Kamino the Guards have had it drilled into them all over again. If they want to survive In the Senate they have to fall back on the lessons they learned on Kamino.

The Corries know that there are some things that nat born's will never understand. Things that Nat born's shouldn't understand.

So no one in the guard quite knows how to feel about the strange fallout of the Shiney squad's Jetti Cadets apparent discovery of the Guards position on Courcant.

It starts small, the guard notices that the boy stops being weird about the fact that most of the Corries don't use their names, when asked, the boys. "It's because I know that you have them now." raises more questions than answers, because apparently the boy just figured out that they used their designation numbers around the Senate because their names were a secret on his own. He also seemed to get an unreasonable amount of joy from the fact that all the clones chose their own names.

If it has stopped there then it probably wouldn't be so weird, but it didn't. From sneaking in extra medical supplies and food, (actual food, not just ration bars) when he discovered that 'depur' was cutting their budget for stuff that they needed to function, to the way he seemed to intrinsically understand their need for secrecy, and their reasoning for it. "secrets keep us safe." Without anyone seemingly telling him.

They all agreed that they weren't gonna ask about how the boy had managed to rangle several senators around to the truth of the situation and his point of view with only a few words to one of them. A point of view that not only had them working on trooper sentient rights bills, but also had them aiding in his more under the table helping.

At first it was weird and confusing, both because this kid was a nat born, and because how did a Jetti Cadet develop this kind of understanding, he was a child. It took them a while to connect the dots, Even as the boy started unconsciously dropping hints.

At first it was that weird little nickname he had for the Senate and Senators, in a language that even the most nerdy of Corries didn't seem to understand. They weren't sure what a Depur was, but apparently it applied to the Senate and was probably not a good thing.

The next clue was the stories, because as Anakin spent more time with the guard, becoming more of a Vod'ika than a Jetti Commander and subsequently beginning to learn more and more about the secrets that they kept from the rest of the Senate.

As the boy learnt about the lighter side of the inner workings of the guard, and how to speak the clones particular brand of Mando'a, the guards began to learn stories about Ekkreth, Leia and Ar Amu, stories about secret plots and tricking the The infamous Depur in ways that resulted in the freedom of those he enslaved.

About secret Languages, Tzai, Jappor snippets and secret rituals. About the ways one could steal back some control from the Masters in ways that they would never even notice. About things that the boy claimed that all Slaves should know, lessons that would help keep them safe from their Masters. A term that by now the guards suspended was not referring to the kind the Jedi had.

By the time the boy causally mentioned that he and his mother had been enslaved prior to him being taken to the temple, the Guards already had a pretty decent picture of the situation.

The fact that the boy had been adopting them into his own culture right under their noses had been vastly more surprising. He'd been a little awkward when he'd admitted it. Saying that he knew that they were sort of Mando'ade, but they could be Amavikka too if they wanted.

And sure, maybe it was a little dark that part of the reason the boy spent so much time in the barracks was because it felt familiar, but also this kid cared about every single one of them, to the point where he apparently sees them as family.

Well it really was no wonder that it was agreed that the entire guard would do just about anything for their Ad'ika. Including possibly stopping said Ad'ika from doing the same for them. (Bloody Skywalkers)