#clone fanfic

[freesia-writes]

C-can I pick Howzer for #1, mmmaybe? 👉👈

ANY EXCUSE TO WRITE FOR HOWZER, my love! :D This follower celebration was SO FUN because the variety of prompts and people I have waiting to be written about are just... *chef's kiss*. This one was super fun. It was one of those times where the writing just kind of falls into place as you go along! Hope it's a fun one. <3

#1 - You hear [clone] tell the waitress that they are nervous for their blind date, but no one shows up. So you sit down to act like the date.

Howzer x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k Content Warnings: Kissin and drinkin ;)

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He caught your eye the moment he walked in. He was immediately recognizable as a clone, but he just had a little extra *somethin* that immediately had your attention. Whether it was the tousled undercut he sported or the curving scars across his cheek and chin, you were thoroughly enjoying the view from your perch at the far end of the bar counter. It was always fun to see clones free of their armor, enjoying their scarce free time.

You’d had to stay late after your shift at the restaurant, covering a baby shower that stretched for hours through the day and into the afternoon, and now the dinner rush was already starting. You were free to leave, of course, but an extra dirty martini and some of the mistaken food orders were too good to pass up. Plus, the bartender was your best friend, so when she had a break between customers, there was always good conversation to be had. 

“Did you see that test tube specimen walk in just now? Right up your alley…” she asked, waggling her eyebrows at you while she shook a steel canister. 

“It’s not ALL clones, Dee…” you said in mock defensiveness. Okay, so you had a type. And there happened to be millions of them. But they weren’t all the same… not that it was worth getting into it with her again. “But yeah,” you admitted, peering over your shoulder again, watching him sit and gently take the menu from his server, “He’s got a sweet vibe.”

“You’ve watched him for fifteen seconds and you already think you can tell his vibe?” Dee challenged, pouring the drink. Without waiting for an answer, she bustled off to deliver it, leaving you to wait for his server to come back to the station next to your seat. As soon as he approached, you were speaking. 

“So what’s the deal with table 44 over there?” you asked, earning an immediate snarky grin from Barnes, who was quite the tall drink of water himself, but he’d made it quickly known that he wasn’t interested in women. 

“Ohh, you noticed, huh?” Barnes laughed, tapping on the register screen to enter a drink order, which you leaned over to peer at, curious what he might like. “Yeah, he’s a treat. All cute and nervous, too. He’s on a blind date.”

“Ahh, damn,” you said, leaning back to your food. “Well let’s see who he got set up with.”

* * * 

You lost track of time, nursing your martini and accepting an extra appetizer that had been ordered and then changed. Dee had been regaling you with a tale from the last party she’d been to, although it was delivered in bits and pieces as she went about her job. It wasn’t until Barnes gave you a tap on the shoulder that you remembered to look for the clone’s hot date. Surprisingly, however, the chair opposite him was still empty, and he was leaning his chin into one hand, elbow on the table, the other hand idly twirling the straw in his drink. He looked so smart in his dark grey uniform, and you noted the way it fit snugly around his chest and arms, tucked neatly in to a belt around his narrow waist.

“Get this,” Barnes said conspiratorially as he tapped on the register again, “He just asked for the check, for just his drink. I think he got stood up. Should I quit and go join him?” he paused, as though he were genuinely asking you, then chuckled. “Ehh, I’m not into the military type. Also, it’s getting busier -- you should get out of here before you get wrangled into serving some tables.”

“Good point,” you said, not really thinking about what he said because you were so surprised and distracted at the fact that Mr. Handsome over there had been stood up. What kind of idiot… Suddenly, an idea popped into your head, as the rest of Barnes’ words finally processed, and you decided to act on it before your rational brain (and cowardly second-guessing) kicked in. “Wait, Barnes, don’t give him the check…” you said, putting a hand on his arm as the receipt printed in front of him. “I’m gonna do it.”

His genuine laugh of delight was infectious, and further fueled your slightly bubbly mood. “Well you’d better come up with a good excuse for making him wait so long… And make it worth his time,” he said, giving you a suggestive wink that earned him a smack on the shoulder. You stuffed your apron into the cabinet below the server stand and rushed to the refresher to see what could be done. The smell of a full day’s work in a restaurant was heavy on your clothes and hair, and the barely-remaining makeup was sparse. Grateful for the little basket of hygiene items kept under the sink, you pulled your hair down, tousling it with your fingers after spraying some refreshing powder through it. You got some paper towels wet and wiped your armpits, laughing at the thought of the clone seeing you now. There was nothing to be done about your outfit -- black button-up shirt and black pants -- but at least you could untuck the shirt now and roll up the sleeves. You made one last stop by the bar, making two rushed requests of Dee. 

“Hey -- real quick -- I need that gold necklace from the lost and found drawer, and can you make a dirty martini and another of whatever he had?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, shaking her head fondly as she fetched the necklace that had been left a few weeks ago. “I mean, what the heck. Sounds like fun, and probably nicer for him than going home sad.” Armed with two drinks and as much courage as you could muster, you headed for the table, running through all the possibilities in your mind. 

“Hi! Blind date, right?” you asked, wanting to be careful not to lie. His brown eyes lifted to you, expression unreadable. He’d been patiently waiting, but was he the stiff sort who would be indignant at being made to wait? Or was he a pushover so desperate for attention that he’d put up with anything? It remained to be seen.

“Yeah,” he said in that smooth clone voice you’d heard so many times. “Howzer,” he said, standing to greet you. He awkwardly offered a hand, realizing you had a drink in each of yours, and gave a breathy chuckle of relief as you quickly set the glasses on the table and took his hand, giving it a gentle shake. You froze, unsure of whether to use your name, or if he knew the name of the person he was expecting… 

“And you’re Xena, right? Here, please, sit?” he continued, standing behind your chair and smiling in such a kind way that the guilt settled heavily on your shoulders. He’d been made to wait an awfully long time, and yet here he was, offering a kind and graceful introduction…And it was also way too much work to try to figure out how to continue the deception as further details would be questioned.

“Erm, no…” you admitted, once he’d cordially seated you and taken his place across the table. His furrowed brow and crooked smile made your heart skip a beat, and you blundered on, “I’m sorry… I work here, well, not right now, but I was hanging out, and I heard you were waiting for someone, and I saw it had been a long time, and I was… well, yeah, I was totally creeping on you from over there… And I just didn’t want you left here hanging cause you’re just… Well you seem really nice… And honestly, you’re really cute… Ohhhh man. This is not a good start,” you laughed nervously, burying your face in your hands. What HAD you been thinking?

Howzer put two and two together and leaned back, running a hand over his tousled hair. You grimaced, hoping it wouldn’t all fall to pieces, and gently pushed the drink toward him once you were willing to show your face again, despite its bright red color. “Here… I brought the same thing you ordered, and… you can just enjoy it, if you want… Sorry, I don’t know what I was aiming for here,” you fumbled, starting to rise to your feet.

“No, wait -- it’s alright,” he offered, raising a hand to accompany his words. “I guess Pivot didn’t paint me in the best light to whoever I was supposed to meet here,” he chuckled dryly. “But it was kind of you to take pity on me… I think? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, so what do you say to some dinner?”

Relief cascaded down at the invitation, and your shoulders dropped a few inches with the release of tension. You smiled, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and nodded. 

“You said you work here?” he continued, opening the menu as if he hadn’t spent the last thirty minutes reading it about eight times over. “What’s the good stuff? Oh, and I suppose I should ask your name too.”

You filled him in, on both points, and had just began sharing about how you got this job when Barnes interrupted you by sliding right up to the table with an air that absolutely demanded attention. “Welllll hellooo again. I see your date showed up?” he said, mock innocence painted all over his face. Howzer gave you a smirk with a raised eyebrow, and you blushed bright red again, chuckling anxiously once again. 

“I told him, Barnes,” you said, holding your hands up in surrender. “I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Barnes pointed out, pursing his lips at you before sending Howzer a rather flirty glance. “I mean, I don’t blame you. But you’re not skimping on my tip if you’re gonna make me serve you,” he said, turning back to you. His charisma lightened the mood even further, and you assured him that he would not be slighted in any way. After some discussion about the dishes and a few suggestions, both you and Howzer had the food ordered and were left to stare at each other once again. You were trying to figure out what kind of date this was meant to be, what type he may be looking for (or what type he was himself). But instead of trying to make yourself into something you weren’t, you decided to just be authentic and see where it went. You didn’t really have much to lose, anyway. 

“So. Howzer,” you said, “How’d you get the name?” 

He leaned forward again, stirring his drink again and appearing to be much more relaxed, and began sharing stories from his life so far. It was decidedly different than yours, especially with the fact that he aged twice as fast. You tried not to think about the actual number of years he’d been alive, as that would make you a total pervert by regular human age standards. He told tales of his brothers, their personalities and quirks, and the adventures that his military life had taken him on so far. He shared his thoughts about the world, musing about ideas for the future -- if or when things ever changed. The minutes melted away, punctuated only by Barnes appearing occasionally to refill drinks, bring plates, or clear them away. 

You’d always had a soft spot for the clones, but you loved seeing them open up. The unique complexity of each individual was always a delight, and Howzer seemed to have more depth than most. He was simultaneously ambitious yet reserved, steady yet bold. You were finding yourself more and more enthralled, and in a bit of disbelief at your luck. Somehow you’d chatted away the entire dinner rush, and the restaurant was now growing quiet, filled with only a few lingering guests.

The conversation took a bit of a flirty turn, and you found yourself reaching across the table in a fit of laughter, clapping your hand on top of his. He smiled, still chuckling, and turned his hand over to gently take yours, sending another spark through your body. His gaze darkened a little, taking on a suggestive edge that suddenly made you ready to take him home right then and there. His thumb traced softly across your knuckles, and his eyes dropped to your hands on the table. 

“Well, things didn’t turn out so badly tonight after all, did they…” Howzer mused. His smooth voice and the thrill of the last couple of hours of conversation and connection had you feeling as though you were living a dream. You smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze, and shook your head. 

“Want to get out of here?” you asked, perhaps with more of a seductive tone than you’d intended.

“Oh, ahh, sure… But… well, I mean…” he stuttered, sheepish and hesitant all of a sudden, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line somehow. 

“I just meant for a walk, or glow pops, or something to change the scene,” you offered brightly, and though he tried to hide it, he looked visibly relieved. 

“Sure -- yes -- sorry,” he continued, running a hand through his hair again. “Look, this has been super fun, and I’m so glad you took the initiative to sit down. I’m just… I’m not much of a one-night-stand kind of guy. I know it’s lame, or whatever, but… I guess I just take a while to warm up that way… The guys make fun of me for it all the time.” You felt your heart swell in your chest at his vulnerability. You definitely hadn’t been expecting that, and somehow it made you crave him even more. Respectfully, of course. 

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted, leaning forward and picking your hand up from his to place it on his bicep, emphasizing your words with a smile. “I’ve really enjoyed this. And would like to continue to enjoy it.” 

“I mean, I’m not a total prude,” he said, laughing self-consciously, still with that glint in his eyes that hit you right in the soul. 

“I don’t know,” you said playfully, being careful to keep it lighthearted, “We’ll have to see about that.” You bit your lip, hoping it wasn’t too much of a jab, but he smirked, primly setting his napkin on the table and rising to his feet, extending a hand to you.

“Well let’s start with a walk.”

After fighting over the bill for a few minutes, since you “weren’t the one he asked on a date” but he “had indeed taken you on a date” but “it was where you worked” but “it still needed to be paid” but “you wanted to be fair”… You let him pay with the insistence that you’d be getting the next one, which gave you a little thrill at the thought that there would be a next one. The coat closet was in the middle of a long, narrow hallway that branched away from the host stand at the main entrance, and the hallway included a few other doors that led to the refreshers as well as the kitchen. Howzer leaned in, scanning the hangers for his coat, and suddenly you heard a loud voice as the restaurant door slammed closed behind someone.

“Hello! I need to be seated immediately. Oh, it’s been a ROTTEN evening. The stupid taxi driver got lost twice, and the train was held up by some idiot old lady, and now I’m incredibly late to meet someone here!” a sharp female voice announced, catching the attention of everyone within hearing range. The realization hit you like a gallon of ice water dumped over your head, and as Howzer leaned out of the closet door to peer at the disturbance, you moved without thinking, pushing him back into the coat closet with so much force that both of you lost your balance and tumbled in, kept on your feet (barely) only by the row of jackets hanging up along the back wall. 

Howzer’s arms went out to the sides, hitting the wall with an ungainly thump, and you fell into him, landing against his chest in the most fortuitous way, hands splayed across his shoulders to try to break your fall. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and heard him chuckle quietly once the initial surprise had passed. 

“I wasn’t aware I had this effect on women,” he said in a low voice, and you held a finger to your lips with urgency, tilting your head toward the loud voice still ringing outside. 

“What do you MEAN, he left?!” she said shrilly, and you could hear Barnes smoothing things over. “You can’t hold a table longer than two hours? That’s just ridiculous.” You sent up a silent prayer of thanks for his quick thinking and willingness to cover for you. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet, freeing Howzer from beneath you, though you were quite loath to do so, and watched him slowly stand straight as well. His eyebrows raised at what he was hearing, and he looked down at you in amusement.

“I may have dodged a bullet tonight,” he whispered, and you stifled a giggle. 

“Fine, well at least tell me where the refresher is, and I’ll be on my way!” the woman demanded, and the quick click-clack of her heels coming down the hall sent you both into a panic again. There was nowhere to hide except behind all the coats, and you both immediately dove into the row of fabrics, pushing them out in front of you and flattening yourselves against the wall, side by side. Now you were trying really hard not to laugh, at the utter ridiculousness of this turn of events, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid making a sound. 

“You know she doesn’t even know what I look like, right? We’ve never met,” Howzer breathed in your ear, and you gave him a little push. 

“There weren’t any other clones in the restaurant tonight, were there?” you whispered right back, and he tilted his head in concession. 

“Good point.”

The sound of the refresher door closing was a welcome one, and you pushed the line of jackets in front of you apart, taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was a nice change from the stuffiness of your hiding place. You were getting ready to head out when you felt Howzer pull your arm, and you turned back toward him questioningly.

“We don’t want to risk it. Better wait til she leaves,” he said, shrugging as though he had no choice in the matter. But the soft croon of his voice and that little shimmer of a reflection of the dim closet light in his eye took away absolutely any reason you may have to argue, and you leaned back into him, facing him now, as he rested against the wall. Jackets were stuffed all around you, draped over your back and undoubtedly sticking out a bit, but his breath caught in his throat as you drew near and the sound made you forget about everything else. 

“I don’t want to push you past your comfort zone,” you said softly, feeling the tingles growing as he ran his hands up the outsides of your arms, and you brought your hands up to rest on his broad chest. 

“I appreciate that,” he breathed, leaning in a little closer, “But I told you I wasn’t a complete prude.” He was so close now that you could smell him, an intoxicating mix of aftershave, soap, traces of scents from dinner, and the slightest hint of musk underneath it all. His proximity was electrifying, and you lifted your face to take in the fondness in his eyes and the gentleness in his expression. You were hopelessly lost at this point. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, and your cheeks curved into a smile at his gentlemanly request. 

“Yes please,” you whispered back, and as soon as the last syllable had left your lips, his mouth was against them, arms wrapping you in a firm yet tender embrace. As if the closet weren’t stuffy enough, the sudden heat of the moment, combined with the two of you pressed together, had you completely flushed with warmth. His kiss was unfathomably sweet, and when he pulled away with a soft smack of the lips, he rested his forehead against yours with a small smile on his face. You lifted a hand to his scarred cheek, reveling in the moment. 

The silence was broken by the refresher door opening again, and an aggressive tapping of heels echoed down the hallway as the narrowly-avoided blind date from hell clattered out the front door. You pulled back a little to better meet Howzer’s eyes, though you could have stayed there forever. 

“Now how about that walk?”

[sweetheartsnips]

The 'Man' in Commando Part 1

Rating: Mature/18+/ MINORS DNI! BE GONE!

Pairing: RC-1207 Sev x Fem!Reader (Bartender)

Wordcount: 1.9k

Summary: A female bartender at 79s comes across one interesting Republic Commando among the hundreds of troopers she serves every day.

Warnings: Submissive reader, Sub/Dom undertones, mentions of (fake) blood, Glove kink, Voyeurism (if you squint), Alcohol consumption, Drunkenness (in patches),

A/N: My second ever fic, and my first that gets 'intimate'. I have no idea what I am doing. I have been playing Republic Commando and I wrote this in horny jail and should be punished for my sins. Please go easy on me.

Read on Ao3 here

Your job wasn’t overly glamorous, but it sufficed. The countless shinies trying to get you in bed and the wrangling of intoxicated troopers got old very quickly, as did the neon lighting and the smell of unshowered soldiers. Tonight, 79s was packed to the rafters. Hundreds of clones danced, drank and unwound under the blanket of cheap, flickering neon lighting. The GAR was celebrating from a successful campaign in the Expansion Region, as you had heard from every second trooper chewing your ear off. 

The bar was a mess. One of your service droids was out of operation, falling victim to flying glass of spotchka that was hurled over the bar. Pouring yet another round of shots, you placed the last one on the tray, picked it up and turned to carry it over to the larrikin of a trooper that probably shouldn’t have been allowed to order more drinks. Before you could even take one step, a stray service droid was underneath you, tripping you and spilling a whole round of shots all over your front, the droid, and the floor. 

“Kriff, AZI!” You shouted. More items to the list of things that had gone wrong tonight. 

An even stickier floor and another broken droid. “Get that trooper another round”, you muttered to the nearest functioning droid. Collecting yourself, you stood up and brushed some stray hairs behind your ear. Before you could turn to make your way to the backroom to get changed, something, someone, caught your eye. 

A T-shaped blue visor glowed through the crowd, pushing shinies aside, as he followed three other familiar troopers. The famed Delta Squad. Except this time, the fourth member of the quartet was with them. He was the most striking, and the most intimidating. A blood-coloured handprint stained the face of his helmet, down his arms and splattered over his chest. He followed his brothers, yet kept his distance. Shinies cleared their way for them, for him, as if he had the blue shadow virus. He was the only one out of his brothers that still donned his helmet. The buzz of troopers and thumping of the music faded into the background as you watched him curiously. Who was this commando? 

In your trance you hardly noticed that he had separated from his brothers and was approaching the bar. Approaching you. 

Snapping out of it, you greeted him, “What can I get for you, commando?”, offering him a smile.

“Whiskey. Neat please”. His charming, gravelly voice startled you. He didn’t sound like any of the other clones. His voice was deep, harsh, and sounded like could take out a battle droid in itself. 

“No worries”, you said, clearing your throat that was suddenly dry, “Coming right up”. 

You turned your back to the trooper, reaching to the top shelf for some of your finest whiskey. Not that this bar carried anything overly remarkable. You felt your ill-fitting tight shirt ride up as you reached above your head,  embarrassment blazing across your cheeks as you felt the trooper’s eyes burning into your exposed skin, even through the helmet he still wore. Why does this commando intimidate you so much? You deal with troopers every day. But he was different. 

You grabbed a hold of the bottle and turned to him. You could feel his eyes meet yours through his helmet. Your eyes lingered for a fleeting moment, but soon broke his gaze. you poured his drink and sparked up conversation to try and relieve your nerves. 

 “I hope that isn't real blood, commando, because I may just have to have you removed from the premises.” You raised an eyebrow, still pouring the whiskey. He didn’t respond. 

“I know that you’re a soldier and all, but having blood smeared across your bucket isn’t exactly appropriate, let alone appetising.” You teased, yet he still didn’t answer. You finished preparing his drink and sat it on the bar in front of where he had since taken a seat. 

“Not talkative tonight?” you asked, desperately trying to relieve the awkwardness that had overcome you.

“Sev. Call me Sev. And I’m quite happy just sitting here listening to you, mesh’la” His baritone voice made your stomach flutter, as did his compliment. It was different coming from him than any other trooper that had tried the same trick on you.  He raised his hands to grip either side of his helmet and slowly removed it, revealing himself. Thick, glossy curls of jet black hair curtained his tanned face, his deep amber eyes maintaining eye contact with you. A pink scar sliced from his mid forehead, over his eye and cheekbone, down to his chin. His thick jaw clenched as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, him obviously having caught you ogling at him. 

He wrapped his large, gloved hand around the glass in front of him and raised it to his lips. Sipping his drink, he lowered it back down to sit on the bar. 

“Not bad. You have good taste…….” He trailed off, looking at you with questioning eyes.

“I don’t give my name away to just any charming trooper at my bar”, your snickered, your lips curling into a cheeky smile. 

“So be it, I’ll take that as a challenge.” He teasingly rolled his eyes, rocking in his chair. 

Your eyes lowered to his chestplate, where a set of four numbers carved into the red-stained plastoid stood out. 4982. Interesting, must be his designation number, you brushed your curiosity aside. 

“About the blood”, his thick voice cut in once again, “Don’t worry mesh’la, it may or may not be paint, why don’t you give it the old sniff test and find out” He sneered. 

An incriminating shade of crimson flushed to your cheeks and you felt yourself grow hot, and it wasn’t just the steam from the glass cleaner below you. Wound up, you gathered yourself.

“I don’t sniff clones, commando.” You joked, “Not only is it unprofessional, but the smell of the battlefield isn’t exactly the most pleasant”. 

“79s smells like that every night”, he stated. His gaze felt as if he could read your very thoughts and feelings. 

“I suppose so. I better get back to work”, you shrunk down underneath his gaze and cowered away from the banter. 

You turned away from Sev, nerves or excitement, you couldn’t really tell, still fluttering in your stomach. A very familiar pair of ARC troopers in blue were waiting at the bar for you. 

“Look who is here” Fives says, “My favourite bartender! Somebody has to keep those droids in line!” He gestured at the broken droids still on the bar floor, elbowing his twin and bursting out into laughter. 

“I’ve been too busy to get rid of them, obviously”. You defended. Busy with Sev. 

His laughter fading,  Fives’ gaze slid to look over your shoulder. 

“Mesh’la, ‘t looks like somebody has their eye on you tonight”, Fives acknowledged, nodding in the direction that Sev had been sitting, “We’ll leave you to it”. Fives and Echo turned to go back to the booth where the rest of the 501st regulars sat. 

Once again, that feeling of embarrassment and intimidation flooded over you, despite your false sense of confidence minutes earlier. You could do this, you talk to troopers every night without any nerves. He is just like all of his brothers. 

You slowly turned to see Sev undressing you with his eyes. You suddenly felt stupid in your tight, black blouse and slacks. Swallowing, you walked back over to what was now his side of the bar, avoiding the broken droids on the floor. 

“Can I help you, commando?” You asked, trying to snap him out of his lascivious gaze.

“You know those guys?” He snorted, his eyes slowly lingered down your neck and to your decolletage. 

You ignored his wandering eyes, despite the warmth it built up in your core, and contested.

“They’re here all the time. Unlike you, you’re a new face”, you teased, raising an eyebrow. 

He choked on his drink, stifling a laugh, trying not to break his stoic, mysterious facade. 

“I don’t exactly get a lot of time to celebrate, you know, with the war,” he smirked, the eye contact practically melting you onto the sticky bar floor. 

“Pardon me, sir.” You cooed, fluttering your lashes, laying it on heavily,  “How could I forget, it’s not like I work at a clone bar or anything”. 

You’re not sure what set it off for him, but an animalistic look devoured his amber eyes. 

He leant towards you, a low growl building in his chest. Not sure if you should be scared or aroused, you submitted to him, right in front of the entire bar. Surely he just wanted you close so you could hear him over the noise of the bar, right? His rough, gloved hands caressed your chin oh-so softly as he brought his face closer to yours. His warm breath fanned over your face, a hot blanket of desire beginning to suffocate you. You felt yourself grow wet, his eyes so close to yours. Maker, he put the man in commando. 

He broke your gaze, bringing his lips to your ear, “Listen here,” he whispered, his abrasive voice making love to your ear, “You’re going to give me your commlink number,” he demanded, “you’re going to go home early tonight, you’re going to shower and get into your prettiest number, and you’re going to get comfortable in your bed. I’m going to comm you, you will pick up, and you will give me your name.” The last words slowly trickled out of his lips, fading into the background noise of the bar. 

Maker, you had practically soaked through your panties. They were just as wet as the front of your top from earlier. You needed him.

 “...and I’m going to give you 10 credits for another one of those fancy Chandrillan whiskeys”. The rough pads of his still-gloved fingers maintained the hold they had on your chin, and he brought his lips away from your ear painfully slowly. You swallowed, not knowing what to do with yourself. Your core burning with arousal, your thighs rubbed together uncontrollably. His face was still close enough to yours that you were practically sharing the same breaths. His scar was so intimidating, yet so charming this close. 

“Look at you, mesh’la, in knots for me”, he whispered, maintaining his gaze, “No shiny in this bar has ever had you like this before, has he?” 

You shook your head, biting your lip. Any sense of confidence you had now melted away with your utter submission to him. He released his grip from your chin, allowing you to fulfil his demand for another drink. 

You hurriedly poured it for him, all of your professionalism gone with your confidence. You scribbled your commlink number on a napkin, and sat both it and the drink down in front of him.

He downed it in one sip, got up from his seat, grabbed his helmet and turned to leave. 

“I’ll talk to you later, mesh’la”, he smirked over his shoulder. 

Speechless, you mustered up a nod, trying not to embarrass yourself in front of the numerous other troopers at the bar. 

“By the way, I saw you looking at my chest. Four-nine-eight-two. Four-thousand, nine hundred and eighty two Geonosians. One for every fallen commando.” His charming voice lingered as he turned and made his way back through the crowd of troopers to find the rest of his squad. 

Maker, you practically fainted. He was no shiny at all.

[star-wars-writing]

Return of a Legacy Chapter 1

This is an original story I've written, it's also posted on A03 and I hope you like it, comments, are always welcome.

In the cosmos's heart, the serene planet Elysiar lay cradled in peace, its rolling hills and quaint villages a stark contrast to the galaxy's distant tumult. Here, Alaenna, a girl with eyes as bright as the twin suns and a spirit curious as the wind, found her sanctuary in a humble orphanage nestled in the heart of a verdant valley.

Alaenna's life was a tapestry woven into Elysiar's very essence. Each morning, as the village awoke to the dawn chorus, she walked the cobblestone streets, her smile a reflection of the suns' warmth. The villagers, in turn, greeted her with a fondness tinged with reverence, acknowledging her as one of their own, yet an enigma.

In the lively marketplace, Alaenna's touch seemed to infuse the fruits and flowers with a touch of Elysiar's magic, her connection to the planet evident in her every interaction. Yet, there were moments, fleeting and filled with wonder, when her otherness would surface – objects levitating or her sudden, distant gaze, as if listening to a secret whisper. These instances were met with awe, the villagers accepting her uniqueness as part of their world's rhythm.

The afternoons were for the children, who gathered in the orphanage's garden, captivated by Alaenna's tales of distant worlds and heroes. Unbeknownst to them, her stories were woven from the threads of her visions, fragments of a legacy yet to be understood.

As night fell and the twin suns bid farewell, Alaenna found solace in the forests of Elysiar. Her solitary walks were a communion with nature, the creatures of the wood drawn to her innate connection to the planet. It was in these moments of solitude that her visions became clearer, whispering of ancient battles, lost legacies, and a destiny intertwined with the stars.

Mareen, the village's wise elder, guided Alaenna through the maze of her burgeoning powers. "Your gift is a rare one," Mareen would say, her eyes reflecting the depth of the night sky. "Forces ancient and powerful stir within you." Yet, even Mareen's wisdom could not unveil all the secrets that beckoned to Alaenna.

The Festival of Moons marked a turning point. That night, as Elysiar celebrated under the glow of lanterns, Alaenna's dreams brought her face to face with a mysterious figure, a herald of the path unfolding before her. Troubled yet intrigued, she sought Mareen's counsel, sensing the threads of her destiny weaving together.

In the days that followed, a subtle change permeated Elysiar. The villagers sensed it, a sense of anticipation and pride for the girl who had grown amongst them, yet a realization that their village was on the cusp of an irreversible change.

Alaenna herself felt the shift most profoundly. Each vision, each whisper of the wind, drew her closer to the unknown. As she stood at the village's edge, gazing at the starlit sky, she knew her time on Elysiar was nearing its end.

With the dawn's golden light, an air of expectancy filled the village. Unseen, a starship descended toward Elysiar, heralding the beginning of Alaenna’s true journey. Among the children, as she imparted lessons of life and harmony, Alaenna felt a resonance with the Force, an undeniable call to embrace her legacy.

Her path, woven into the fate of the galaxy, was now clear. The time had come for Alaenna to step beyond Elysiar's embrace, to follow the whispers of her destiny and become the beacon of hope for a galaxy in turmoil.

******

On the distant planet of Elysiar, a world untouched by the turmoil of the galaxy, an unexpected visitor arrived. Mace Windu, a figure of legend in the Jedi Order, set foot on the lush greenery of this secluded planet, his mission seemingly unrelated to the serene world before him. The Jedi Master, known for his wisdom and prowess in the Force, was accompanied by a squad of elite clone troopers, their presence a stark contrast to the peaceful surroundings.

The reason for their landing on Elysiar was ostensibly simple – a routine reconnaissance, a minor detour in the grand scheme of the Clone Wars. Yet, as Mace Windu stepped onto the soil of Elysiar, he couldn't shake off the feeling that the Force had guided him here for a reason far more significant than any routine mission.

The planet radiated a sense of tranquility he hadn't felt in years, a stark contrast to the shadows of conflict that clouded most of his days. As he moved through the dense foliage, his troopers following in a disciplined formation, Mace couldn't help but feel a disturbance in the Force – not of darkness, but of light, a beacon of hope and purity that pierced through the encroaching darkness of the galaxy.

The troopers, veterans of many battles, sensed their General's change in demeanor. They exchanged glances, their respect for Mace Windu mixed with curiosity. They were trained to face danger head-on, yet here on Elysiar, the threat was not of blasters or enemy combatants, but something far more elusive and enigmatic.

As they ventured deeper, the lush landscapes of Elysiar unfolded around them, a vibrant tapestry of nature that seemed almost surreal in its beauty. Mace Windu, guided by an unseen force, found himself drawn towards the heart of the planet, towards the source of the light he sensed.

The village, with its cobblestone paths and quaint homes, came into view. The inhabitants, unaccustomed to visitors of such imposing stature, watched warily yet with open curiosity. Mace Windu, his gaze calm yet penetrating, surveyed the surroundings, his senses attuned to the Force.

It was here, among the simple folk of Elysiar, that he felt the disturbance most strongly. A presence, pure and powerful in the Force, unlike anything he had encountered before. It resonated with a clarity that was almost overwhelming, a call that could not be ignored.

The clone troopers, ever vigilant, stood guard, their loyalty to Mace Windu unwavering. They watched as their General, usually so stoic and unyielding, seemed momentarily lost in thought, his connection with the Force evident in his focused demeanor.

Mace Windu knew that this was no coincidence, no mere twist of fate. The Force had guided him to Elysiar, to this very village, for a purpose that was slowly unveiling itself. The beacon of light he sensed was here, a hidden jewel in a galaxy on the brink of darkness.

In the heart of the village, unaware of the Jedi Master's presence, was Alaenna, a girl whose destiny was intertwined with the fate of the galaxy. Mace Windu, standing on the threshold of a significant discovery, prepared himself to unravel the mystery that the Force had laid before him.

This encounter, unbeknownst to both Alaenna and Mace Windu, was set to change the course of the galaxy, a pivotal moment where paths crossed and destinies aligned under the watchful eyes of the Force.

In the heart of Elysiar’s village, where life moved to the rhythm of nature’s song, Mace Windu’s path finally converged with Alaenna’s. The Jedi Master, his robes slightly out of place in the rustic setting, stood quietly, observing the young woman who seemed to be the source of the profound disturbance he had sensed in the Force.

Alaenna, unaware of the significance of this encounter, was tending to a small garden beside the orphanage, her hands gently caressing the petals of a blooming flower. The air around her seemed to hum with an unseen energy, a melody of the Force that was both serene and powerful.

As Mace Windu approached, his steps deliberate yet unthreatening, the clone troopers fanned out, their training keeping them alert yet respectful of the peaceful surroundings. The villagers, sensing the gravity of the moment, watched from a respectful distance.

"Excuse me," Mace Windu began, his voice calm yet carrying an undercurrent of fascination. "I am Master Mace Windu of the Jedi Order."

Alaenna looked up, her eyes meeting his. A flicker of recognition passed through her – not of the man himself, but of the presence he carried, a presence she had felt in her visions.

"You have a remarkable connection to the Force," Mace continued, his keen eyes studying her. "I sense around you what we call 'shatter points' – critical junctures that can influence future events. Your presence in the Force is... extraordinary."

Alaenna stood, wiping her hands on her apron, a mix of curiosity and caution in her gaze. "I've always felt a connection to something greater, visions and dreams that I didn't fully understand. But what are these 'shatter points'?"

"They are points in time where significant changes can occur, where the smallest actions can have profound effects on the future," Mace explained, his voice reflecting his awe at the discovery. "It's rare to see them so clearly around a person. It suggests a destiny of great significance."

Alaenna absorbed his words, a sense of wonder and apprehension swirling within her. "Does this mean I have a role to play in the events to come?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper, yet carrying the weight of her potential destiny.

Mace nodded, a sense of solemnity enveloping him. 

"The Force has guided me here to you, and I believe it is no coincidence. You are at the center of something much larger than yourself. Your connection to the Force could be pivotal in the days ahead."

The clone troopers, standing guard, watched the exchange with disciplined silence, their presence a reminder of the galaxy's ongoing turmoil. They too sensed the importance of this meeting, understanding that the young woman before them was more than just a villager on a remote planet.

Alaenna looked around at the faces of the villagers, her adoptive family, and then back at Mace Windu. A myriad of emotions played across her face – fear, excitement, uncertainty. The garden, once a place of simple peace, now felt like a crossroads of her destiny.

**** 

As the twin suns of Elysiar dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow over the village, Mace Windu and his clone troopers, including Commander Ponds, prepared to settle in for the night. The villagers, though initially apprehensive, extended their hospitality, intrigued by their visitors from the stars.

Mace, his mind still reeling from the revelation of Alaenna's connection to the Force, found himself in a quiet corner of the village square, where a modest feast had been prepared. Alaenna joined him, her curiosity about her destiny and her place in the Force growing.

"Master Windu," Alaenna began, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What does this all mean for me? For my life here on Elysiar?"

Mace looked at her, his expression thoughtful. 

"Your connection to the Force is unique. It's clear that you have a significant role to play in the events unfolding in the galaxy. Your training and understanding of the Force will be vital."

Commander Ponds, standing a respectful distance away, couldn't help but overhear the conversation. His usual stoic demeanor softened slightly as he observed the young woman. To him, she was an enigma – a civilian with a potential impact on the galactic scale.

Alaenna glanced towards Commander Ponds, sensing his presence. "And your soldiers, what do they think of all this?"

Ponds stepped forward, nodding respectfully to Alaenna. "We follow Master Windu's lead. If he believes you're important to our mission and to the galaxy, then we're here to support that."

Alaenna offered a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Commander Ponds. I've never been part of something so... vast."

As the night progressed, the villagers mingled with the clone troopers, the initial tension giving way to cautious fascination. Stories and experiences were shared, bridging the gap between the two vastly different worlds.

Mace, observing the interactions, felt a sense of hope. In Alaenna, he saw not just a potential Jedi but a symbol of unity in a divided galaxy. Her natural empathy and connection to those around her were evident, even in this brief encounter.

"Alaenna, the path ahead will be challenging," Mace said softly, drawing her attention back to him. "But I sense a strength in you. The Force has chosen you for a reason."

"I've always wanted to understand my visions, to know why I'm different," Alaenna replied, her gaze steady. "If being part of the Jedi Order will help me find those answers, then I'm ready to take that step."

Commander Ponds listened, his respect for Alaenna growing. In her, he saw not just strength but a genuine desire to understand her place in the galaxy. It was a trait he admired, a stark contrast to the often rigid perspectives he encountered.

As the night wore on, the conversations deepened, weaving the first threads of understanding and camaraderie between the villagers, the clone troopers, and Alaenna. For Mace Windu, this night reinforced his belief in the Force's guiding hand, bringing together disparate paths for a greater purpose.

In the quiet of the evening, under the starlit sky of Elysiar, a new alliance was forming, one that would ripple across the galaxy, with Alaenna at its heart.

****** 

As the village of Elysiar slumbered under a blanket of stars, Alaenna tossed restlessly in her modest room at the orphanage. Her dreams, vivid and tumultuous, swept her away to realms unknown, to scenes of a past steeped in mystery and grandeur.

In her dream, Alaenna found herself amidst grand halls and soaring spires, echoes of a past grandeur. She walked through corridors lined with portraits of individuals bearing a regal bearing, their eyes seeming to follow her with a knowing gaze. The Tarrealis legacy, though unknown to her, whispered through these visions, revealing glimpses of magnificent dragons soaring through the skies, their riders noble and proud.

As she moved through the dream, Alaenna felt an overwhelming sense of loss and longing, a connection to these people whose names and stories were yet a mystery to her. The images shifted, showing her scenes of joyous celebrations, groundbreaking achievements, and then, a descent into shadows – a great tragedy that seemed to tear at the very fabric of this once-glorious legacy.

Mace Windu, resting in a room not far from Alaenna’s, felt a disturbance in the Force. It was a ripple of turmoil, a storm of emotions that he instinctively knew emanated from Alaenna’s troubled dreams. Rising from his bed, he made his way to her room, his concern deepening with each step.

Commander Ponds and a few other clone troopers, sensing their General’s departure, followed at a discreet distance. Their loyalty to Mace Windu was unwavering, their trust in his judgment absolute. Yet, the nature of this disturbance, so deeply entwined with the mysteries of the Force, left them with a sense of unease.

Mace arrived at Alaenna’s door just as she awoke, her eyes wide with the remnants of her dream. He entered quietly, his presence calm and reassuring.

"Alaenna," Mace said softly. "I felt a disturbance. Are you alright?"

Alaenna, still caught in the afterglow of her visions, nodded slowly. "I had another dream, Master Windu. It was so vivid, like walking through memories that aren't mine. There were people, places... and dragons. It felt significant, but I don't understand what it means."

Mace listened intently, his mind processing the possible significance of her words. "Visions can be a powerful tool for those strong in the Force. They can reveal glimpses of the past, present, or even possible futures. But interpreting them can be challenging."

Outside, Commander Ponds and the troopers exchanged worried glances. The mention of visions and their unknown implications added a layer of complexity to their mission. They remained alert, ready to respond to any threat, yet aware that this was a battle fought on a different front – one of the mind and the Force.

"Could these visions be a message?" Alaenna asked, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and apprehension. "Could they be showing me something I need to know?"

"It's possible," Mace replied thoughtfully. "The Force often communicates in cryptic ways. It could be guiding you to uncover something important – perhaps about your heritage or a role you are destined to play."

Alaenna sat up, the weight of her potential destiny pressing upon her. "But what could it be? Who were the Tarrealis, and why do I see them in my dreams?"

Mace Windu placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "These are answers we will seek together. The Force has brought us here for a reason, and I believe your visions are a key part of that."

Outside, the clone troopers stood guard, their expressions stoic yet filled with concern. They knew the galaxy was on the brink of great change, and it seemed that this young woman, with her mysterious visions, was at the heart of it.

In the quiet of the night, Alaenna and Mace Windu talked, delving into the mysteries of the Force and the enigmatic legacy that seemed to be calling out to her. For Alaenna, this was the first time she truly felt understood, her fears and hopes acknowledged by someone who could help her find the answers she sought.

As the first light of dawn kissed the village of Elysiar, Mace Windu and Alaenna found themselves in deep conversation, seated on the worn steps of the orphanage. The peaceful morning air was a stark contrast to the weighty matters they discussed.

"Alaenna," Mace began, his voice reflecting the seriousness of the topic, "the path of a Jedi is not an easy one, especially for someone who begins training later in life. Yet, the Force's guidance in this matter is clear. Your connection to it is extraordinary, and I believe you have much to learn – and much to offer."

Alaenna nodded, her eyes reflecting the resolve that had formed within her. "I understand that it won't be easy, Master Windu. But these dreams, these visions... they confuse me. Sometimes, there's a voice calling out to me, but I don't know what it means."

Mace contemplated her words, his mind working through the implications. "Visions can be a manifestation of the Force communicating with us. This voice you hear could be a key to understanding your role in the larger scheme of things."

Alaenna looked towards the rising sun, her thoughts turbulent. "But why me? Why now? I've lived a simple life here; I never imagined being part of something so... vast."

"The Force often chooses unlikely individuals to play crucial roles," Mace replied, his gaze steady. "Your age is of less concern than your potential. The Force has been insistent in a way I've rarely experienced. It's not just me; it's urging that you be trained by Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Obi Wan Kenobi as well."

Alaenna's eyes widened in surprise. "Three Jedi Masters? But why?"

Mace sighed, a rare hint of uncertainty crossing his features. "I don't have all the answers, Alaenna. The Force works in mysterious ways, often revealing its intentions in time. But I trust in its guidance, and it has never been so clear as it is with you."

Commander Ponds, who had been standing watch nearby, listened intently. The idea of someone starting Jedi training at Alaenna's age was unheard of, yet if Master Windu believed it to be the right course of action, he would support it without question.

Alaenna took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. "If the Force deems it, then I will embark on this path. I want to understand these visions, to know my place in all this."

Mace nodded, approval evident in his eyes. "Training will be rigorous, and the path fraught with challenges. But I sense a great strength in you, Alaenna. You're not alone in this journey."

As the village began to stir, Mace stood up, extending his hand to help Alaenna to her feet. "We will make arrangements to begin your training as soon as possible. The galaxy is in a precarious state, and your role, whatever it may be, is crucial."

Alaenna stood, a sense of determination settling over her. "I'm ready, Master Windu. Ready to learn, to understand, and to face whatever the Force has in store for me."

As they walked back towards the heart of the village, the first rays of sunlight illuminating their path, a new chapter in Alaenna's life was beginning. A chapter filled with the promise of discovery, training, and the unraveling of a destiny that could change the course of the galaxy.

****

Across the galaxy, in a stark contrast to the tranquility of Elysiar, Obi-Wan Kenobi sat in a makeshift camp, surrounded by the familiar hum of his clone troopers. The night was dark, the stars obscured by the smoke of recent skirmishes. Around him, the troopers, including Commander Cody, Waxer, Boil, and the unit's medic, Bones, were engaged in routine duties, the atmosphere one of weary alertness.

Obi-Wan, his mind always partly attuned to the Force, felt an unexpected surge, a tidal wave of energy that knocked him off balance. The world spun momentarily as he grappled with the intensity of the vision that assaulted his senses.

Cody was at his side in an instant, concern etched on his face. "General Kenobi! Are you alright?"

Obi-Wan steadied himself, nodding slightly. "Yes, Cody, I'm fine. Just a... a powerful vision from the Force."

Waxer and Boil exchanged glances, their respect for the Jedi ways mingled with concern for their General. Bones stepped forward, his medical instinct kicking in. "Sir, you should sit down. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Obi-Wan managed a faint smile, easing himself down onto a nearby crate. "Not a ghost, Bones, something... different. The Force just gave me a rather insistent message."

Cody crouched beside him, his voice low. "What kind of message, sir?"

"It's about a girl, a new Padawan I'm supposed to train," Obi-Wan explained, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I don't know who she is or where she's from, but the vision was so clear, so forceful. It's been a long time since I've felt such a hopeful light in the Force."

The troopers gathered around, listening intently. The concept of the Force was something they respected, even if they didn't fully understand it. They knew that if their General was affected this strongly, it was a matter of great significance.

Boil, always the more vocal, spoke up. "Sir, what does this mean for our mission? Are we going to meet this new Padawan soon?"

"I'm not sure, Boil," Obi-Wan replied, his gaze distant as he pondered the implications. 

"The vision didn't reveal much, only that I'm to be part of her training. This girl, whoever she is, holds a significant place in the Force. It's as if she's a beacon of hope, a light in these dark times."

Cody nodded, his expression serious.

"We'll support you, General, in whatever the Force asks of you. If this girl is as important as you say, then she's important to all of us."

Obi-Wan looked at his troopers, a sense of gratitude washing over him.

"Thank you, Cody. Your loyalty and support mean more than you know. For now, we continue with our mission. But I sense that soon, our paths will take us to this new Padawan."

As the group settled back into the rhythm of the camp, Obi-Wan's mind remained focused on the vision. The Force had never been so insistent, so direct in its guidance. The girl in his vision, a mystery for now, was about to become an integral part of their lives, a symbol of hope in a galaxy desperately in need of it.

In the quiet of the camp, under the dim light of distant stars, Obi-Wan Kenobi braced himself for the journey ahead, a journey that would intertwine his destiny with that of a new Padawan, a bearer of light in the darkening galaxy.

**** 

In a different sector of the galaxy, under the vast canvas of stars, Jedi Master Plo Koon sat in contemplation, surrounded by his loyal clone troopers. Commander Wolffe, Boost, Sinker, and others of the Wolfpack were gathered around, their armor stained with the remnants of recent battles. The atmosphere was one of solemn camaraderie, a brief respite in the midst of war.

Plo Koon, known for his deep connection to the Force and his wisdom, felt a sudden and intense disturbance ripple through him. It was as if the very fabric of the Force was beckoning him, pulling him towards a destiny yet unseen. The strength of the vision was such that it momentarily took his breath away, his usually stoic demeanor faltering under its weight.

Commander Wolffe was immediately at his side, concern evident even behind his helmet. "General Koon, are you hurt?"

Regaining his composure, Plo Koon shook his head slightly. "No, Wolffe, I am not injured. The Force... it has shown me something, a vision of great importance."

The troopers exchanged looks, their respect for Plo Koon's connection with the Force evident in their silent attention. They knew that such moments were rare and significant.

"What did you see, General?" asked Sinker, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Plo Koon looked out into the night, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "It is a girl, a young Padawan that the Force insists I must train. This vision was powerful, more so than any I have experienced before. It suggests that this girl is of great importance to the future."

Wolffe stepped closer, his loyalty unwavering. "What does this mean for our mission, sir? How will this affect the Wolfpack?"

"The mission continues as planned, for now," Plo Koon replied, his voice calm yet filled with an undercurrent of anticipation. 

"However, I believe that soon we will be called to meet this Padawan. She is like a beacon in the Force, a point of light in these dark times."

Boost, always quick to lighten the mood, chimed in, 

"Sounds like we might be getting a new member in the Wolfpack, huh?"

Plo Koon allowed a small smile to grace his lips. "Perhaps, Boost. This Padawan will need all the support and guidance we can provide. The Force has been unequivocal in its message. She is essential to the balance of the Force, and our paths are destined to cross."

The troopers nodded in understanding, their trust in Plo Koon's wisdom and the will of the Force absolute. They knew that their journey alongside the Jedi Master often led them to unexpected paths, and this was no exception.

As the night deepened and the camp settled, Plo Koon sat in quiet reflection, pondering the implications of his vision. The galaxy was at a precipice, and the emergence of this new Padawan, whoever she was, marked a shift in the tides of fate.

Commander Wolffe and the others respected their General's need for contemplation, guarding the camp and their leader with silent vigilance. They were more than just soldiers; they were guardians of a future that was slowly unfolding under the guidance of the Force.

In the quiet solitude of space, Plo Koon awaited the moment when the Force would call them to action, to meet this mysterious Padawan who held the potential to alter the course of the galaxy.

[ichimerapunk]

Plot Bunny: Danny Is A Clone but with a Twist

Fanfics where Danny is a clone of one of the Bats are not unheard of; however, what about this twist to the idea:

So, writer’s choice on how it happens but regardless Danny and Tim realize they are an exact DNA match to each other. Everyone is assuming clone, but Danny has memories of growing up as a Fenton. Despite Danny’s disagreement, the Bats assume that false memories might be at play, but Danny’s birth records are proven to be real and show Danny is only a few months younger than Tim.

After some digging, they uncover that Danny is indeed a clone of Tim except it was because of a fertility clinic error. That Tim’s parents, Janet and Jack Drake, had used a fertility clinic to insure the one baby she was willing to have would come out with all their desired traits (male, no genetic defects, whatnot.). Once the ideal zygote was created it was cloned to have plenty to work with however many insemination procedures it might take.

However, because of an error, some of those eggs ended up being used for Danny’s parents when they used the clinic some weeks/months later. (Without their knowledge and certainly without the Drake’s consent.) And because his parents assumed Danny got his black hair and blue eyes from his dad, they never second-guessed Danny as not being their bio son. 

So, Danny is reeling realizing his parents aren’t his bio parents and Tim is reeling over the news he might not even be ‘the original’ considering how many fertilized eggs are generally used during IVF.   

So yeah, clones but not out of some nefarious plot or anything. Just mundane human error, dumb luck, and chance.

[clonesuperiority]

I really only wanted to show my Clone OC's Tattoos, buuut who was ever hurt by shirtless Wolffe, Rex, Cody and Jesse? 👀

I'd kind of love to draw some fanarts of canon Clones ... Which ones would you like to see?

[sentient-stove]

“Okay, first off don’t call me that, it’s kind of rude, imagine if I went around calling you the base template.”

Elle leaned over Danny’s shoulder, propping her chin in her hands as she smiled with too many teeth at Damian. “You can call me it. It’s kinda funny. ‘Cept I’m a Xerox of a Xerox.”

“So you’re not a clone of—” Damian started, glancing between the pair in confusion. “Is that why sh-”

“Not a clone of you.” Danny interrupted, seeming to find his plate of scrounged up desserts more interesting than eye contact. “I’m a clone of Damian Wayne, she’s a clone of Daniel Fenton.”

“Xerox of Xerox.” Elle held up a peace sign, her fingers cutting the air. “Clone of a clone. Very unstable, very fun. I have a tendency to nearly melt into primordial goop.”

“It’s not that funny, Vlad’s raised you on terrible humor.”

“Dad’s raised me fine.”

“You swear in breakfast foods. Say fuck like a normal clone.”

[cc3542taki]

Fanart for The Legend Of Liob written by @killbothtwins

"She had gotten a picture of Cody vaulting over the kriffing rock. The sun was behind him, explosions and blaster bolts dotting the background. His face was set in determination and apparently heroic fire, although Cody thought he really just looked annoyed about the stray lightsaber. 

Paintbrush made it into a poster, styled as a stained glass window, and put it up in the bunk room on the Negotiator. "

I just couldn´t resist drawing the picture that was forming in my minds eye while reading this passage.

This fanfic is a favourite of mine that i suggest you go read if you love yourself a little humor in a very well written galaxy far far away.

[duckytree]

hamilton quote in 2023 again? yeah

now animated

[dixieconley]

How the Clone Wars should have gone, given that Anakin was canonically a slave. (wtf Lucas?)

Rex: Yeah, we all have inhibitor chips. They make us less aggressive-- Anakin: You have slave chips. Rex: No, inhibitor chips. Anakin: Slave chips. They all need to be removed. Kix! Do you have a scanner? Kix: Er, no. You need a level 5-- Anakin: Nevermind. I'll build one. They need to come out immediately.

::slave chip comes out of one trooper who volunteered, because ARCs be crazy:: (Fives. It was Fives. Because Fives.)

Anakin: Huh. Why doesn't this have any explosive? Rex: I *told* you. They're inhibitor chips. Anakin: Nuh uh. Slave chips. They gotta do something else.

::a little later, some slicing, orders discovered::

Anakin: Slave chips! All of them out! Rex: Okay, but this is just one itty bitty bit of the GAR. There's 3 million of us. Anakin: *Lots* more scanners. Rex: ::facepalm::

::Scanners sent to every ship in the fleet and the Guard::

Fives: So who activates the chips? Anakin: Depur. Fives: ::thinking that this is a reasonable name rather than a generic term for a slave master:: Where do we find them? And can we kill them?

Cue Kamino being invaded, the Kaminoans interrogated (and Nala Se summarily executed), and relevant information discovered.

Rex: So it's the Chancellor. Anakin: No, he's my good friend. Rex: … Anakin: I'm depukrata. (The slave word for a freed slave who enslaves others.) Fives: ::no concept of natborn names:: Everyone! The general's Depukrata now! Everyone: Hello, Depukrata! Anakin: ::anakin.exe has stopped working:: Anakin: ::incoherent frothing rage:: Let's fuck some shit up! The 501st: ::cheers, gets out the heavy ordinance::

Palpatine gets wrekt. (Fuck that guy.)

[4ndeka]

Its my bestie @cc-kote's bday today!! So i did a little codywan for him, as a treat (he also has a kick ass fanfic about them check it out)

[freesia-writes]

Hunter Fic Sneak Peek #4

(author's note -- this is about as raunchy as it'll get; keeping the whole thing PG-13)

She pushed him until his back was flush against the wall, head spinning and heart racing. Her hands were heavy on his chest, his neck, his cheeks... She cupped his face with fervent desire, gazing affectionately into his eyes before closing her own, tilting her head, and pressing her lips to his.

Her hands began to roam again, stroking and caressing, pulling feelings and yearnings and urges from him that had been dormant as long as he could remember. An initial resistance welled up, adding to the constant confusion, but it was soon diminished beneath her passion as she kissed him again and again.

Heat flushed Hunter's body from head to toe, and he opened up to her, his fingers gripping her waist as he leaned in. A feminine, breathy sigh escaped her as the intensity grew, their faces pressed together, lips caressing and tugging. She opened her mouth more, sliding her tongue against his, and tingles coursed through his veins as he met her fervor with his own, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and losing himself to the ardor growing in his core.

She ran a hand up the back of his neck, digging it into his hair and tightening her grip, pulling back for a moment to regard him with unbridled lust. "You are so kriffing hot, you know that? Damn, the things I want to do to you..." she murmured, heavy-lidded eyes following the contour of his face as he opened his eyes to meet hers, smoldering with intensity.

A small smile curved her cheeks, and she bit her lip before leaning in again, capturing his lips in her own with a more possessive tenacity that continued to awaken things throughout his entire body. He was reeling from the sheer overwhelm of it all -- her scent, her breath, her body, her sensuality, her uncomplicated want for him. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Freedom from responsibility, freedom to pursue a future of his own, freedom to release the burden of every possible consequence and to simply enjoy life on life's terms...

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, his muscles tensing against her touch and fanning the flame where her fingernails gently raked up toward his chest. Soft lips trailed to his jawbone, below his ear, down the side of his neck, setting him on fire inside and out. Hunter tilted his head away, feeling her consuming desire spreading through his own chest.

This was what he had wanted. This was the right choice.

Wasn't it?

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[xxsabitoxx]

Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted

Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader

Warning the full length fic will include the following: gang banging, dub-con / non-con, forced oral, forced orgasm, BDSM themes… which just means they aren’t easy on you whatsoever, humiliation, bukkake, outdoor sex, brain washing, etc etc etc

A/N: so I will say, this fic is going to be a darker one. I don’t think I’ve ever written like… full on non-con… honestly this fic will somehow lean towards dub-con anyways. Like let’s be honest, it’s gonna be a very morally gray fic. I mean we aren’t moral people let’s be real.

You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”

The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.

“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.

He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.

You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”

His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.

“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.

“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”

[zylev-blog]

Danny was pissed. He was chilling in the Speedforce, waiting on his dad—the Flash—to show up when he felt something shift around him. He exited the speedforce to find that the timeline had changed again, and he had been written out of the timeline. He technically was a time anomaly now, and didn’t exist. So he talked to Clockwork, a ghost he’d gotten to know extremely well after Danny’s creation.

Danny was a clone of the Flash and Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) as part of an experiment that Lex Luthor had taken prior to cloning Superboy. Lex had wanted to know if the power ring was able to transmit anything genetically (it couldn’t. It was a wearable weapon, not a genetic thing.) but Danny had inherited Flash’s superspeed, so he wasn’t a complete loss. Danny wasn’t sure if he looked more like either man, considering they both wore masks. He had brown hair and green eyes. Beyond that, he tanned well, was tall for his age, and packed on muscle far easier than the Flash did. He hadn’t ever seen either man out of the costume.

After a talk with Clockwork, he decided he was just going to force his way back into his Dad’s life. Both of them, if possible. He arrived years before his creation by mistake, right near the start of the Justice League. By his estimates, the team had only been formed for a year before he’d arrived. It was strange; he both didn’t exist and was from the future. He guessed that it was around nine years before his birth, and since he was technically six months old, he was 9 years in the past. Thinking about this was going to give him a headache.

The Justice League was severely mistrustful of each other. They didn’t go out of their way for teamups, didn’t have weekly meetings, and almost pretended if the other members didn’t exist. The most recluse of them was Batman, of course. If any hero set foot in Gotham, they were booted out before they even got to downtown. Danny highly suspected Batman had the entire city on camera. The situation was weirding him out more than before. What had happened to the team?! He was used to everyone being one big family, and even the sidekicks having their own teams… speaking of sidekicks, why was Robin so small?! Wait a minute, that wasn’t the third Robin that he was used to, that was the first Robin! Baby Nightwing!

Thankfully for him, he still had his costume on this entire time as he zipped around the country, spying on the younger members of the Justice League. It was surreal watching everyone try to capture him, but he wasn’t going to be caught that easily!

Eventually his presence forced the Justice League into another teamup. Batman laid the trap out, and Flash lured him into it. The plan was so beautiful that he didn’t even realize it was a trap until he was caught in it. Green Lantern took off Danny’s mask, and for the first time, he looked at his fathers without a mask. They didn’t make the connection to him right away. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman’s lasso made its way around his wrist that the truth finally came out.

“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.

“Oof , hard question—ow ow oww—I’m being honest!” He struggled against the lasso as it started to burn him. “My designation was Dn-y, I go by Danny, though. I’m a clone.”

“Of who?” Batman demanded.

“Flash and Green Lantern.” The lasso was glowing brightly, indicating that he was telling the truth.

“How did you escape?” Flash asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He was trying to think about how to phrase the whole time traveling—timeline erasure thing when the lasso started to burn him again. “Ow ow! Sorry, I’m thinking! Ow! Turn down the settings on that thing, holy shit—okay, okay.” He winced, his words coming out in one breath as he quickly talked, “What do you know about time travel?”

Diana’s eyebrows were rising. “How are you able to resist the lasso for so long?”

“I’m not really resisting it.” He answered, noting the obvious deflect of his last question, “I just-oww—okay! My mind moves too fast for me to put into words sometimes and it makes me stop to think about it, but like, I’m not good at controlling the speed in which I speak all the time—owww make this thing stop burning me! I’m speaking honestly!”

Diana revoked the lasso, and he rubbed his wrist where his costume was starting to singe. He was still trapped in an anti-speedster prison, so it wasn’t exactly like he was going anywhere anyway.

“Why were you asking about time travel?” Batman asked.

“Based on the crickets chirping I heard earlier, that leads me to believe you guys haven’t had any experience in it yet.” He leaned against the wall of the prison, wincing as it shocked him with electricity. “Seriously? How paranoid are you, Batman?” He rubbed his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting with you people, but I feel so attacked right now.”

“So we have experience with it in the future?” Superman piped up.

“Yeah?” His tone of voice equated to a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I ask what you knew if I wasn’t from the future?”

“How far in the future are you from?” Green Lantern asked.

“Nine years, maybe close to ten? Timelines are weird. I’m technically six months old, but at the same time I’m sixteen. Cloning is odd, but I was like, the first clone ever, so I don’t really have a basis for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged. He seemed like he talked a lot more than the heroes did, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a chatterbox, or because they weren’t comfortable in each other’s presence. Either way, the silence was odd to him.

“How did you end up here?” Batman asked.

“Honestly? I don’t fully know. Don’t give me that look, Diana! I’m telling the truth.” He added quickly as Diana fingered her lasso again. “All I know is one minute, I’m chilling in the Speedforce, and the next, the timeline is changed and I’m nine years too early for my birth. You’d think the timeline would at least have the decency to spit me out in my own year, but nooo, it wanted to—“

“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.

He tilted his head at Superman’s question, then turned to the Flash. “How long have you had your powers?”

Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”

“Oh boy.” Danny’s green eyes widened. “You don’t know anything about them, do you?”

“I do know things!” Flash deflected, “My suit doesn’t catch on fire anymore! I can run up to Mach 2! I can get from either end of the country in thirty minutes!”

He groaned loudly. “Oh no. Oh no.” He chewed on his thumb, trying to recall everything he’d learned about his powers from his Flash. While he hadn’t learned his or Green Lantern’s identity yet, he knew almost everything about their hero personas and a lot of personal information. They were just worried of the Cadmus connection and didn’t want their identity to fall into the wrong hands if they still could see inside of Danny’s head.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“Okay.” He ran his hands through his brown hair, making it spike up. “Hypothetically—“ he cut himself off as Batman glared at him. “Okay, totally real, but uh, Flash, let’s just say that I’m faster than you right now. A lot faster.”

“How much?” Flash took a step forward, obviously curious.

“From what we can tell, I’ve topped out at Mach nine.” He responded with a dry laugh, “But your speed was still a lot faster than mine. You’d never tell me what it was. I’m still growing though, and I’m getting faster. I’m able to beat my precious time by almost double each time we test. But my situation was complicated, and things were happening, and it was a mess.”

“Like what?” Superman asked.

“World war three. I think?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that he had picked up from Green Lantern, “Things got complicated. That’s why I was going to wait for…” his eyebrows scrunched together as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It was you!” He turned to Flash. “You!” He jabbed a finger at the speedster. “You set this up! You set ME up!”

The heroes took fighting stances, but Superman took a step forward, blocking them from Danny. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay okay.” He was trying to calm down his anger, but he had been told by Green Lantern in the past that he had inherited the man’s anger issues. “Let me start at the beginning. This is going to be a long story, you might want to take a seat.”

Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.

“Or not. Okay. So my creation starts with Lex Luthor.” He noticed Superman stiffen. “He used me as his trial, if you will. Once he got a successful attempt at cloning—me—he moved onto his real target. Cloning Superman.” Danny’s green eyes hovered onto Superman’s blue ones. “He was successful.”

“What happened?” Superman’s voice was unnaturally quiet.

“Well, at first, Conner wasn’t showing that he had all the powers of Superman. So Lex tossed him aside and tried again. The second attempt was more successful than the first. But cloning Kryptonian dna was hard, I guess.” He shrugged. “The second clone lacked basic emotions. Empathy, remorse… it made him the perfect little weapon for Lex. But eventually, the clone’s anger and Lex’s greed got to a point of no return. Lex was elected President of the United States and uh…you can probably see where this is going, right? While the fighting hadn’t like…’officially’ started,” He used his fingers to create air quotes around the word ‘officially’, “Things were getting tense. See, we couldn’t take the clone down because Lex had wrote out the Kryptonite deficiency out of his weakness. And the clone had all the strength of Superman and none of his remorse…”

Superman looked pale. “I see.”

“So Flash and I came up with a plan.” He turned back to his father, “We were going to travel into the next dimension for help. From what we could tell, that dimension was full of god-like beings, and one of them actually helped me out earlier! But for a lot of them, they ask for a price for their help. But anyway, Flash and I were going to take our case to the King and plead for help. I was waiting for Flash when the timeline reset and I found out that not only did I not exist, but I was nine years too early.”

“What are you going to do now?” Green Lantern asked.

“Dunno,” His voice dropped as the reality hit him. He wasn’t going home—his home didn’t exist anymore.

[r3ynah]

There's plenty of prompts and fics, that always leads up to Danny being kidnapped by the Batfam because they thought that he was atleast one of their family members(ex. Tim, Damian)

But what if its opposite? it's either Tim, Damian, or even Jason. gets taken/kidnapped accidentally, by the one only Fenton couple who thought the kid they had taken was their son Danny or Dan.

Which causes a stir for the Wayne Family, and the Fenton's just accepting they've got another kid.

Cue Danny, Dan, Dani and Jazz sitting on the living room couch with their new sibling, for family game night.