#Kaminoan Experiments
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Eldritch Everyone
I have read fantastic stories where Obi Wan/ the Jedi are Eldritch creatures and other stories where the Clones are Eldritch, because of Kaminoan experiments. Let's merge the two with a twist.
The twist is they are different types of eldritch beings who do not know the other is Eldritch.
As always disregard any established lore that contradicts this.
With the clones it is because of Kaminoan experimentation. It will never be quite clear what the Kamnioan’s were trying to do…or if they accomplished their goal. But the Kaminoan experiments on the Clones (with the exception of Boba Fett) genome connected with…something beyond. Something they had no idea what to account for.
For the Eldritch Clones I am taking heavy inspiration from the incomparable Quarra’s The Force of my Love. The Clones are a hivemind, existing paradoxically as part of the hive and individually all at once. Their forms are nigh on indestructible and mutable, meaning they can shapeshift (they, in fact, make the choice to keep Jango Fett’s face and shape as their ‘main form’-partially due to spite, partially because the Kaminoans expect it). They are able to travel instantaneously to any clone that is part of the Hivemind(by contrast this instantaneous travel is limited to only to other members of the hivemind). Unlike Quarra’s clones they cannot tell the difference between Sith and Jedi(for reasons that will be elaborated on later). They have eidetic memory which, combined with the hive mind, means that what one knows all of them know and none of them ever forget. This version of the clones have no particular connection to Mandalorian culture, nor any other culture, save perhaps the Jedi (The propaganda that they are created for the Jedi still exists and frankly pales in comparison to how awesome the Jedi actually are).
The Jedi are Eldritch through their connection to the Force, which is sentient (by certain definitions) but so utterly alien to anything on the mortal plane that there is no direct comparison. Now it needs to be made clear from the first that it is not just Force sensitivity that makes one Eldritch, the connection to the Force is just not strong enough. There are additional rituals that the Jedi, and the Sith of Old, go through to become what could be considered Avatars of the Force (specifically the Light Side for the Jedi). These rituals were passed down from before the split between Sith and Jedi.
I say Sith of Old here, because Bane, in creating his rule of two, did away with many of those rituals (never realizing their worth) because several of them required more than 2 participants. There are three rituals in particular that apply here. First is a ritual to allow oneself to fill completely with the Force (making themselves, for a lack of better terminology, larger than their mortal forms), which Bane kept as he believed it simply made one more powerful (and could be accomplished alone). The second ritual, also one that Bane kept, helped to hide the Banite Sith from the Jedi(it also disguised what was happening to the Banite Sith due to the first ritual, even from themselves), though that had always been a side effect of the ritual, not its intended purpose; this ritual is the reason that the Clones cannot sense Jedi and Sith seperately. The third ritual makes one a conduit of the Force (letting the Force pass through oneself) which Bane did away with. It is important here because mortal beings are not meant to be filled to the brim with the Force, without the release valve of the second ritual it causes them to rot from the inside out. This is important because by the old definition of Sith, the Force Cult that has dedicated themselves to being the Avatars of the Dark Side of the Force, there has not been a Sith since Darth Bane (barring one exception) and why the Banite Sith tend to rot while still living, the longer they are immersed in the Dark Side. Dooku did not rot because he had done the rituals as a Jedi, though he had not dedicated himself specifically to the Dark, so he never took on the title of True Sith. Ventress, through her training with Ky Narec, had also completed most of the Jedi rituals, meaning she was not a Sith but as closer to it than Palpatine. It was actually Maul who, in growing up submerged in the Dark like he had been, accidentally completed a version of the lost second ritual, and became a True Sith in the old meaning of the word.
These rituals are meant to immerse a Force Sensitive in the Force itself, giving the connection more strength than it would have otherwise. The Force abilities that we see the Jedi, and the Sith use, are because of the Rituals and why those that do not go through either version have much subtler/weaker abilities. It also means that the Jedi (and the Sith of old+Maul) give off the eerie impression that, no matter the size or species, they are somehow so much larger than they appear. That there is something beneath their skin trying to get out. Also being plugged directly into Force in the way that they are skews the way they view reality. It can be hard for the Jedi to connect with beings that are not at least a little Force Sensitive and the Jedi care deeply, but sometimes cannot see what the actual problem is (saying ‘there is no death there is only the force’ is not meant to be a trite saying nor do many of the Jedi quite understand why it is not as comforting as they think it is).
At the beginning of the Clone Wars, both the Jedi and the Clones hide their eldritch nature from each other. Both groups had experienced how showing their nature to the wrong people can break minds and they had no wish to hurt the other.
The first sign that something was…strange was how in sync both groups were. The Jedi marveled that the clones never cringed at the sight of them (and that which moved under their skin when they lost focus). The Clones were ecstatic that the Jedi never questioned when they had knowledge they should not have, nor the few occasions when multiple clones spoke from the same mouth.
Nat born officers would make comments, not directly but meant to be overheard, how the Jedi Padawans grew more ‘other’ every time they visited the Temple on Coruscant. The clones would only stare blankly, to them it seemed like the Padawans were simply growing into themselves.
Various Jedi and clones began to fall into love (Familial, romantic, sexual, platonic, and other). It is Depa Billaba and Gray who first confess, and in confessing reveal their respective natures (Depa is the one who made the first move-as soon as the Clones knew of the Jedi’s nature they each sought out their Jedi).
The main reason that Jedi do not get in romantic relationships with non Force Sensitives (and Padme has no Force Sensitivity) is that theri nature pushes them to connect at the deepest level they can with their loved ones. This can mentally damage non Force Sensitives.
For Obi Wan, if Cody had not confessed, Obi Wan never would have. He had tried, before, to have romantic relationships with non force sensitives. A few times he had even managed to deny his own nature until the relationship dissolved naturally (Obi Wan, like most Jedi could be…odd, even when trying to fit in). It had become clear through his life that it just was not worth the pain to act on those kinds of feelings. The knowledge that Cody could bond with him fully, was interested in him both romantically and sexually was a joy. Obi Wan was not even off put that by dating on clone, he was in affect dating all of the clones at once (who were also dating other Jedi)
Sometimes the Clones and Jedi switched partners. For instance Mace Windu, who was primarily dating Ponds, loved the Theater, which Ponds was ambivalent about but Bly also loved the theater (which Aayla actively disliked). So Bly and Mace had a standing monthly date night to a variety of theaters all over the galaxy, and at least once a year end up acting in a performance. Or how Fox was one of the only Clones that was not bored stupid at the Anniversary Ball, a pretentious event of a small but rich mid rim planet to celebrate the ratifying of a treaty, that Obi Wan is required to go to every year (even the years he was actively at war). So Fox is Obi Wan’s date, while Cody and Vos (who primarily dated the Coruscant Guard), would use the night to break up some kind of ring(slavery, drugs, smuggling, etc.)
Rex found that he fit neatly into Padme and Anakin’s relationship, somehow providing a stabilizing influence on their bond. Padme and Anakin had bonded after the first battle of Geonosis but it was a case of Anakin being young and stupid and reckless, and Padme not actually understanding what Anakin was talking about when he tried to explain the risks (She thought he was saying that it might hurt her, and she was reassuring him that she trust him to be careful. He thought she was saying that she knew about the risks and was Force Sensitive enough to not be harmed). There was already some damage done to Padme’s mind (mostly in terms of willpower, personality, and impulse control) by the time Rex joined the bond, and not all of it was correctable, but most was.
It is not the Jedi and the Clones that disrupt Palpatine’s plans (though the chips never worked, so eventually they would have). It was Dooku, Ventress, and Maul. Maul was the first True Sith, though it was accidental, in almost 1000 years. Dooku knew what it meant to be Jedi/Sith in the original sense and could tell that Palpatine did not. Ventress, like Dooku, had gone through the Jedi versions of the rituals (those rituals may have been passed down since before the split, but time had caused a bit of difference). Because Palpatine has the deeper connection to the Force but not release valve, for lack of a better term, he is more immediately powerful but in the long run is doing far more damage to himself than he realizes. Sometime before Maul would have gone after Satine, he encounters Ventress, who recognizes him as an actual Sith and brings him to Dooku.
These three decide that they are going to destroy Palpatine (for being a Pretended Sith) and rebuild the actual Sith Order with the full Sith rituals. Maul is a bit surprised to realize that he, by himself, is more than a match for Palpatine (Since this was the man that had tormented him since childhood; he always had the picture that Palptine was bigger than life). Dooku then publishes all of the wrong doings he knew of from Palpatine’s entire circle-CIS and Republic alike- (and he knew about 80% of what was eventually uncovered). Then all three of them fuck off to Morriban to begin their research into resurrecting the Sith Order.
The Jedi Order and the Clones collectively decide to let them, on the basis that at least they know where the three Sith are and it keeps them busy.
#codywan#star wars#star wars the clone wars#fanfiction prompt#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#star wars au#sheev palpatine#bamf obi wan#anidala#commander cody#eldritch being#Kaminoan Experiments#the clones deserved better#the clones love the jedi#jedi order respected#pro jedi#Nuetral about Sith
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Just a random thought…
What if the long necks created twin clones as an experiment to minimize costs and to test if it enhances any stats? (It doesn’t, which is why they stopped the experiments at one point. There would be only a few handful twins that made it)
Idk why but I imagine Wolffe and Fox as twins that argue almost every second, but if you talk shit about one of the twins, the other one will go feral and bite you.
They both share the core values of duty, honor and vision (, to see the republic succeed and the vode grow). Which is why both are very protective of their brothers, especially the younger ones. Both are extremely good strategists looking for the best solutions.
Despite their similarities they tend to see almost everything differently. Wolffe concentrates more on what is, while Fox relies more on intuition (, which will later get tainted/ clouded by the dark side thanks to Palps).
This often results in unnecessary fights and arguments.
Yet in a real fight, on a battlefield, they always got each others backs and compliment each other. Wolffe is stronger and more aggressive in combat, while Fox is quicker and more agile. They are two soldiers of one soul. Inseparable, no matter how far away they are from each other. Their hearts beat in unison to a rythm only known to them.
Wolffe: Di'kut!
Fox: Shabuir!
Alpha-17: >:|
Alpha-17: I should cut their tongues out. Why the kriff are they fighting now?
Cody: *sighs* Well neither of them wants to play the role of the loser
Alpha-17: This is creative training. There is no loser... *growls *
Wolffe: I am older. You are the loser!
Fox: You are only older by ten milliseconds! We are from the same tube!
Wolffe: and yet i am not as ugly as you!
Fox: We have the same face, utreekov!
Wolffe: I got prettier eyes
Fox: *blood red eyes, different to the vode's dark eyes, sparkle as he looks down* I am the loser?
Wolffe: *gulps and shifts awkwardly with guilt * N-Nayc. I am…
Fox: Yes you are! *grins sly*
Wolffe: You kriffing shabuir!!!! *tackles Fox to the ground *
Alpha-17: I swear. I am surrounded by idiots
Cody: ???
Alpha-17: Don’t look at me like that, Kote. You are the worst of your batch. Where is my favorite?
Bly: I am here!
Alpha-17: I said my favorite
Ponds: hello?
Alpha-17: …
Rex: What’s going on here?
Alpha-17: There he is!
#commander fox#cc 1010#commander wolffe#cc 3636#alpha 17#disaster twin clones#Kaminoans do weird experiments#commander cody#cc 2224#captain rex#rex is everyone’s favorite#just a random thought that hit my corn last night#so here you go#fox lives rent free in my head and that’s okay
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psps
Crosshair AU but his theme is Monster by Besomorph
I'm thinking abt it 24/7 since last week thank you
#the bad batch#crosshair#tbb crosshair#tbb#monster cross au? 👁#when hes captured by Hemlock#too many experiments#or by the kaminoans maybe? 🤔#might be a future project of mine HMMM
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@ailesswhumptober Day 2: Overworked / Insomnia / Exhaustion
Day 15: Experimentation / Muzzle / Transformation
category: Gen
fandom: Star Wars
characters and relationships: Cassian Andor and Strike (OC) - platonic, Nala Se and Lama Su in the background
warnings: experimentation, animalistic transformation, non-consensual body modification, Kaminoans being shitty, blood and gore, self-harm but it’s not really intentional (more of a distraction; think digging your hands into your palms to divert your attention from pain but. a little more extreme), Cassian and Strike being the softest most traumatised kids ever
notes: WHUMP. this is part of my Unnatural AU, so it likely won't be on AO3 until i finish the rest of this chapter and the previous one. the Unnatural AU is very much inspired by the Unnaturals book series by Devon Hughes but also a little bit of the Maze Runner: the Fever Code by James Dashner so yeah it's kids in Situations with shitty scientist adults
(Context is Strike has been having chest pains and difficulty breathing for the past 3 days)
more things about Strike on AO3
Something was off about today. After Strike’s daily scans, the guards had marched her into a laboratory smelling of sterile instruments and something she couldn’t place, rather than returning her to her room. Her chest tightened with dread when she saw Nala Se standing by a control panel beside Lama Su; she’d long learned that both of them being present at any given time could not mean anything good.
The guards led her into the center of the room, where a huge glass cylinder bordered with metal struts sat ominously, a door ajar on the near side of it. Panic started to slick her palms with sweat, and her compliant steps faltered. “W-What are you doing?” The question had just slipped out, and she hadn’t exactly said it softly, but everyone in the room acted like they were pretending not to hear. Stopping in front of the open door, the guards started to push her inside, so she dug her heels in and struggled against their steel grips. “No, what- What’s going on? Let go-” Her efforts ultimately proved fruitless, and they shoved her into the chamber before stepping back and pushing the door closed. It shut with a hiss, her scrabbling hands finding no purchase on the smooth glass.
Lama Su and the scientists watched silently as she threw herself against the walls, punching and kicking everywhere she could. “Let me out!” Nala Se turned to look at Lama Su, who nodded slowly, and the former stepped towards the console. Strike could only hear the muffled clicking sounds of the switches and buttons being put into use before a hissing sound started, and white gas began to pour from holes in the metal she hadn’t noticed were there. What the kriff… Strike stared at the Kaminoans as Lama Su smiled a thin, oily smile.
“Proceed, Nala Se.”
The scientist dipped her head acquiescently, then paused, hand hovering over a large blue button. Strike tried her best not to breathe in the gas, desperately probing at the glass panels to see if one would magically come loose. Then Nala Se pushed the button, and the world erupted into agony.
The tight feeling in her chest spiked, making her fall to the cold floor of the tank and curl her hands into her shirt in pain. A scream tore from her throat as it turned into a sharp ache jabbing out from inside her back. She clawed at her shoulders — a useless effort, though whether to relieve it or to possibly just distract from it, she didn’t know — and thrashed against metal and glass alike, gasping for breath as the building pressure threatened to suffocate her. Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it STOP-
The squeezing feeling abruptly stopped, replaced by an excruciating tearing that pulled another ragged cry from her sore throat, and she went limp. The glass walls that had been clear and pristine earlier were now smeared with blood and fragments of gore, she saw through slitted eyes.
She wanted to sob in relief when the door clicked open again and the guards gathered her up and onto a rolling gurney, carting her back to her room. Her limbs were weighted down with exhaustion, and she didn’t think she could have even moved an arm, much less broken free and run down the hall, if she’d wanted to. They set her down onto her bed with their usual cold detachment, not reacting with so much as a frown as she let out a choked whimper.
She didn’t move after they left, even as something foreign and heavy flopped over her side, only squeezing her eyes shut in pain. She didn’t know how long she stayed there. It could have been hours before she heard the metallic tapping of Cassian’s signal in the vent; it was all the strength she could use to raise her hand and tap back.
He came crawling through the duct probably a few minutes later, removing the grate over the entrance before his eyes widened at the state she was in, and he scrambled out of the vent to hover over her concernedly. He didn’t ask what had happened, just lay down to gently curl up alongside her. Wincing as his hand carefully moved the foreign object from on top of her to spread out over the rest of the bed, she realised it was a wing, feathered like a bird’s, but attached to her, downy (colour) plumage streaked red with blood. They both stared at it for a moment, before tears she didn’t even know had been there started to roll down her cheeks, and she found words pouring out in a chaotic cascade of an explanation until she just sobbed into his shoulder at the wrongness, the unfairness, the violation of it all. He held her all through it, gently offering soft words and touches of comfort.
“It hurts, Cass. I can’t move. I can’t breathe,” she whispered. His expression crumpled, and his eyes shone with unshed tears, like her pain was his own.
“I’ll stay right here. I promise.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled the white blanket over her and tucked her in carefully, avoiding her sore new wings, and was true to his word, staying put until she fell asleep.
#swift creates#swift writes#ailesswhumptoberdaytwo#star wars#the clone wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#star wars fic#strike (OC)#cassian andor#cass and strikey#fic#fanfiction#andor#rogue one#andor series#sw andor#star wars rogue one#whump#angst#ailesswhumptober2023#fic writing#whumptober#experimentation#experimentation tw#experiment#transformation#kaminoans#unnatural au
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#three Kaminoan OC’s#they’re all working class#marked by their blue eyes#Va Ke is like the big brother to the two ladies#Ko Kil is the brainiest of the three#kinder and softer#Te Naa is bitter#she has lost the higher class mate that she desired#he was killed#they were going to be chosen to be part of an experiment in which they produced young naturally for the first time in generations#her strong body and his sharp wits were hoped to produce exceptional and fresh new additions to the gene pool#but he died and all her hopes for that bright future together went with him#my oc’s#yes these are traces of movie stills and comic art#Kamino#kaminoan
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Whumptober Day 13: Can't Make an Omelette Without Breaking a few Legs
Prompt: Fracture
Summary: Like with the rest of Clone Force 99, Wrecker's mutation had to be tested thoroughly to ensure there were no underlying issues that might make him a liability on the field. This meant broken bones were common throughout his short-lived youth.
[Double bone density is an interesting thing to ponder about. To what extent the Kaminoans would test their more experimental projects is also a topic to ponder about.]
THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3
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There were very few times throughout his active military career where Wrecker had gotten hurt. Not counting the explosion that had taken out part of his vision and hearing, or the few times he'd gotten shot at, there were honestly very few injuries that had left him debilitated out on the field.
Being as big and strong as he was, with an immunity system to match, Wrecker was honestly not an easy man to take out.
That had not been the case when he'd been a cadet, however...
Clone Force 99 had gone through more vigorous testing than any other clone ever had to worry about. Mostly because these tests were layered over their training.
Each mutation unique in ways that the Kaminoans had not explored before. A world of opportunity. One that had no guarantee of panning out in their favour if they were deemed unfit for duty.
So they'd been tested. Over and over again.
Poked and prodded to near breaking point.
Forced to endure torture well before they'd hit their growth spurts.
And, just like with the rest of Clone Force 99, Wrecker's mutation had to be tested thoroughly to ensure there were no underlying issues that might make him a liability on the field. This meant broken bones were common throughout his short-lived youth.
As it turned out 99 had suffered through a number of growth spurts not unlike Wrecker's own when he too had been but a little cadet.
Only his had grown out of control.
Atrophied his body.
Rendered him useless in the eyes of the cloners.
It had been a miracle he'd grown to old age at all.
There had been a chance that Wrecker might end up in a similar way.
Deformed, crippled, devalued by everyone but the clones that may fall in his care if he took up his ori'vod's mantle.
That hadn't happened of course, but it had been something that had worried his young mind. The terror of being separated from his brothers.
Day after day he'd endured broken bone after broken bone.
The kaminoans testing to see how his skeletal structure would deal with the constant fractures.
The more he grew, the harder it became to cause the fractures.
But it never stopped hurting. It had been hell. Scheduled hell.
They broke him every day and when they were satisfied enough that they wouldn't end up with another janitor, they deemed him fit for duty.
For all they cared, he was invincible.
A walking tank made of flesh.
A living battering ram that only knew how to wreck things.
Sometimes it was hard not to believe them.
#Eps Writes#star wars#the clone wars#the bad batch#whumptober2022#wrecker#unethical medical experiments#dehumanization#kaminoans being assholes
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I've decided for the immortal Fives and Kix 50 years later au I'm gonna give Fives a girlfriend. Her name is Raani and she's a blue (toward the green side of the spectrum) twi'lek with darker freckles. Her and Fives meet during the rebellion (probably a little towards the end?) and end up unofficially dating for a while but then eventually Fives breaks it off because he's afraid of out-living her like he is all his brothers and doesn't wanna risk getting any closer to her only to lose her.
So sometime after the rebellion they part ways. And years later they run into each other again after Fives has reunited with Kix and had a chance to heal some. And they get to know each other again and things aren't quite the same between them as they were but there's still something there and eventually they fall in love again and probably get married idk. At this point Raani is of course in her... 60s? 70s? And Fives is...well it's complicated.
Also toying with the idea that after they broke up the first time maybe Raani found someone else and fell in love and got married but he's since passed away and in meeting Fives again (and Kix, he helps) she's finally able to let go and move on and be happy again.
Also I wanna give Kix and eventual girlfriend/wife as well because he deserves to be happy and also I think he should get to have a kid or 2 too. He'd be a good buir
#after all the pain and suffering both Fives and Kix have been through they deserve to be happy#also been toying with that clone cadet thing where the rogue Kaminoan scientists' descendants are experimenting with a new cloning process#using some stolen jango fett dna fr back in the clones wars#and fives and kix come across the program and shut it down and adopt the 10 half-grown cadets#not sure yet if thats actually gonna be canon for this au or an au of this au#cradle talks#Raani Belroe#(definitely didnt just come up with a last name on the spot)#fives#kix#immortal fives & kix 50 years later#au of an au#cradle stuff#cradle aus#cradle ocs
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So by now we all know Omega’s purpose.
Nala Se and the other Kaminoans created Omega so they could clone force sensitives. That’s her “unique ability”.
I don’t think Omega herself is actually force sensitive (unless she’s like Sabine and could maybe wield the force after years of training). Ultimately she was only created to be used as a tool for further cloning experiments. Her worst fears are coming true.
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now idk if youve been requested smth like this before but tbb finds reader (whos another clone child like omega)?? thatd be cool, id think!! gn reader btw 🫶🫶 ALSO LOVE YOUR WRITING SM TY FOR WRITING THIS IF YOU DO
— FAMILY FOUND
pairing. omega/clone force 99 x clone child! gn! reader
**
type. oneshot
note. hi anon! thank you for your request, i'm incredibly happy to hear you like my writing! regarding your request, i hadn't thought of anything like that so far, but i love the idea - this is set during season one! the reader could technically be seen as disabled but i'll really leave that up to your interpretation. enjoy!
warnings. needles, human experimentation, dehumanisation, sisterly omega fluff, big brother/dad batch, slight injury, potential reference to the blackwing virus, references to clone wars events
word count. 2k
star wars masterlist || pinned post
Four hours.
That's how long you'd been running from the Empire and the claws of the Kaminoans, swiftly escaping the planet with the help of AZ-3.
After a tearful farewell, the droid had tightly sealed the escape pod's hatch as well as your fate, leaving you to hold off the Kaminoans from tracking you as you fled Tipoca City, the place you once called your home.
When you landed on Ord Mantell, the sudden impact of the crash had swept you off your feet, chucking you to the floor with a loud bang. The intense pain that abruptly shot through your arm as well as the burning sensation that spread in your right cheek quickly lead you to realise that you needed to get a hold on some medical supplies as soon as possible.
"Where is it, where is it - kriff!"
Despite years of being reprimanded by Commander Colt not to curse and avoid the usage of bad words, you couldn't help but ignore your late brother's teachings when you sat back up on your knees after crawling out from under the pod's control panel. There wasn't a medkit in sight. You huffed, gripping your throbbing head with your healthy arm.
"I must've hit my head," you whispered to yourself, squinting your eyes in pain. Slowly but surely some medical attention was starting to become really necessary, especially when you felt warm liquid dripping down your cheek.
You sat up. Perhaps you'd find some help in the inner city?
Ord Mantell was huge; bigger and much more crowded than Tipoca City you found yourself realising. Though, that view might've been influenced by the fact that, like most clone children, you'd never seen anything but Kamino throughout your entire life.
Time and time again had you sat among your brothers, listening intently to their adventurous tales fighting in the war and visiting various places throughout the galaxy. And although you felt bad for the loss and pain they went through day by day, you couldn't help but envy the wonderful worlds and systems they also had the chance to experience.
Unlike most clones, you hadn't been made to be a soldier but rather a subject to be tested on. Your entire purpose since you'd been born was to be a lab-rat, to endure tests and examinations in order to help the Kaminoans determine the breeding conditions of their next clones. You thought little of the Kaminoans, as most clones did. Their constant pricking of needles and blood letting made you feel sick and although you'd grown up on Kamino and were used to being dehumanised and seen as an object, a tool rather than a living being, you still hated the longnecks with a burning passion, silently enduring the torture they'd been putting you through.
Naturally that also meant that you were made to suffer from various side effects of the experiments, such as age acceleration - or in your case, deceleration.
Unlike the usual clone, you aged slower, almost at the pace of a nat-born. You couldn't see very well due to visual tests they'd made for a special clone unit when you were very young and your hair was trimmed unevenly from being shaved off time and time again.
Naturally with that also came the judgement. Many of your brothers considered you a freak, curiously eyeing you and some times even mocking you. But even though there were many bad apples, you were proud to say that most of them had gladly taken you under their wing, partially having even grown up around you, and you couldn't be prouder of their accomplishments.
When the Empire took over and Admiral Tarkin arrived on Kamino, you swiftly developed a strong disdain for the imperial official and his scornful treatment of the clones. He frightened you with his skeletal appearance and judgemental expressions, scoffing at you when he'd first crossed you following a kaminoan scientist down the corridors of the city.
This disdain solidified when, from behind a window, you observed Tarkin handing obscure plans to Prime Minister Lama Su, signaling a clandestine exchange that left you feeling uneasy. Pressing your face against the glass to glean any insight, you overheard a conversation that sent shivers down your spine.
"I can assure you, CE-0003 will make a wonderful asset to project Blackwing—a low cost for such a risky intrusion; the potential loss won't be of any importance," Prime Minister Lama Su coldly stated, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. The mere mention of your designation number, CE-0003, served as a chilling reminder of the dehumanization endured by clones, but Tarkin's emphasis on "low cost" and "loss" struck an ominous chord, setting off alarm bells within your conscience.
Feeling the weight of an impending threat, you knew that the time had come to make a fateful decision. Unwilling to succumb to a potential death sentence or exploitation in the Empire's mysterious project, you resolved to escape Tipoca City. In the brightly lit corridors, your internal struggle reached a tipping point as you confronted the severity of your situation.
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "Kamino is in the past," you mumbled to yourself, avoiding looking straight at the faces that passed by. After all, who knew whether someone had been sent after you or not? The Kaminoans were a very ambitious species and although Ord Mantell was filled with dubious figures, you could not let your guard down just yet.
Your head was starting grow dizzier by the minute and your world was starting to spin. you quickly managed to get a grip on some metal structure to keep you steady - or at least as steady as possible - when a voice caught your attention nearby.
"Oh ... can assist you in any way?"
Only now did you realise that the metal you'd gotten a strong hold on was, in fact, plastoid armour. Immediately you pulled your hand away, apologising profusely, though halfway slurring your words. You weren't even able to make out the stranger's face as the world spun around you and before you knew it, you passed out, barely hearing the stranger calling out another name.
"Echo, come here!"
"A - a clone?"
Hunter and Echo's eyes were settled on Tech, whose own goggled pair were glued to his datapad, as usual. "Precisely," he responded matter-of-factly, "It appears that they apart of a specialised cloning program founded specifically for scientific and medical experimentation."
"You're meaning to tell me the longnecks tortured this child for some bioweapons and drugs?" Echo's voice was angry, his face twisted into a furious grimace as he turned away from your unconscious form whilst holding the bacta-soaked cloth he'd previously been dabbing the gaping burn on your cheek with. Tech huffed, eyeing his brother over the edge of his datapad. "Yes Echo, that is exactly what I'm telling you."
"Unbelievable," Echo scoffed, fist tightening around the cloth, "and to think we once fought alongside those monsters." With a deep sigh, Hunter pushed past his bickering brothers to look over your sleeping form. By now, they had made sure to patch up your broken arm and clean any leftover bruises, settling you down on one of the parlour’s benches. It didn't look necessarily comfortable but seeing as Cid had business to attend to, it was all they could come up with so far - Tech had even dug out Wrecker's civil poncho in the Marauder which you now were cozily wrapped in.
Hunter gingerly brushed the loose hair strands out of your face, watching you with softening eyes as he took over cleaning your bruising face. A small smile tugged on his lips at the sight of your peaceful expression. How would Omega react to you?
As if on cue, the loud chitter-chatter of Wrecker and their little sister erupted in the stairway of Cid's bar, turning the heads of the rest of the batch. Omega squealed excitedly when the giant clone set her down, running toward Hunter with a box of Mantell Mix in her hands.
"Hunter, look!" She chirped, holding out the sugary treat for the sergeant to see, "The nice lady added new toppings and - [name]?"
Her eyes fell upon you and suddenly, she forgot the world around her. Hunter raised a brow before exchanging a questioning look with Echo, who had quietly observed the interaction.
Was that your name? How did she know you?
Taking the box out of her hands and setting it on the table, the clone sergeant took Omega aside, kneeling to be at her eye level.
"Omega, do you know this child?"
With a worried expression at the sight of your wounds, she hesitated before nodding slowly. "Their name is [name]," her voice was hoarse as she kept an eye on you, "we both assisted the scientists in the medbay, back on Kamino ... they'd often do those weird tests on them, to the point they wouldn't show up for days afterwards." Hunter's blood boiled at the thought of the painful abuse you must've had to endure but he stayed composed. He had to focus on the task at hand after all.
"Are - are they okay?" Omega's eyes were wide as she glanced back at him. "They're alright so far," he slowly stood up, crossing his arms over his chest, "We took good care of their injuries. Tech and Echo found them earlier - they suspect they may have crashed nearby. Should that be the case, they can consider themselves lucky."
The light sound of a confused groan caught Hunter off-guard as he turned to look at you. "Well, look who's up."
You had squinted as your world had grown clearer with every passing second after you woke up, still trying to make out what was going on around you - until you had noticed the five figures standing in front of you. And then the panic set in.
Had the Kaminoans already sent out people after you?
"Please don't bring me back," you had sniffled, hot tears already rolling down your cheeks, "I don't want to go back!" It had only been when a familiar girl had approached you with raised hands that you slowly but surely had started to calm down.
"Omega?"
As it turns out, the men you had feared to be mercenaries were in fact the infamous Clone Force 99 that had gone rogue and deserted the Empire a few weeks before you escaped. Although you'd heard talk of them plenty of times from your brothers and the scientists, you had never met nor seen them in person as they were usually out on missions and only ever briefly stayed on Kamino.
When Omega had left with them, you were heartbroken to see your sister go - most of your time was spent alongside her, after all.
By now, Cid, the Trandoshan woman the bar belonged to, had returned and to the Batch's apparent surprise, quickly took a liking to you; that or she at least pitied you enough to slide in a hot meal and grant you some company as she sat down with you and grunted every now and then while looking over her datapad. Either way, you weren't going to question it and simply enjoyed having the chance to fill your stomach after what felt like forever.
"So, how's AZ?" Omega had managed to squeeze in between you and Cid, eyes fixed on you. "He's okay," you mumbled between bites, "He helped me out a lot when I ... well ..." You frowned as you remembered your escape, setting down the spoon.
Although you had fled with good reasons, you couldn't help but miss the place you had once called your home. Fortunately, Omega quickly caught on as she settled a hand on your shoulder with a warm smile.
"I know what it's like," her voice was firm and encouraging when she looked over her shoulder the other side of the bar, where the tall clone you'd earlier found out to be called Wrecker roared in frustration at one of the arcade games set up in the bar while the other, Tech, tried his best at explaining it to him. Echo, the one with the scomp arm, watched and shook his head with a sigh and the leader, Hunter, chuckled while playing with the vibroblade in his hand.
"Our brothers ... they know what they're doing. We keep each other safe," Omega then grabbed your hand tightly and grinned, "And as long as we're here, we'll keep you safe, too."
if you're interested in being tagged for my future works, let me know in my comments or by sending me an ask!
@patapouille @flyiingsly
#star wars#bad batch#the bad batch x reader#my writing#clone force 99#clone trooper omega#other tags:#the bad batch#clone wars#the clone wars#star wars clone wars#star wars the clone wars#tbb#star wars the bad batch#the bad batch x you#bad batch x you#bad batch x reader
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*gently slides some credits over to you* spare some more Fordo x reader x Alpha-17 poly fics please my sweet vodika? 🥺🙏
Ruthlessness
Summary: You’ve been patient. You’ve been kind. But the Kaminoans have finally pushed you too far.
Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader x Fordo
Word Count: 1734
Warnings: Uh...Fordo gets experimented on and Reader loses her shit.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: So. So. This probably isn't what you had in mind when you sent in this request, but I got smacked with the inspiration hammer. And this was born. This Song was the inspiration.
It’s late when your boys come to you.
Later to be more specific. You’re not unused to Alpha’s late nights, or Fordo’s for that matter.
But generally speaking, Alpha and Fordo don’t come to you if it’s after a certain point of night. They want to make sure that you’re getting enough sleep, that you’re able to function to the best of your ability the next day.
So when Alpha keys open your suite door at 2 am, all but dragging Fordo with him, your heart plummets into your stomach.
For a moment, one heart stopping moment, you think that your Fordo is dead.
There’s so much blood, and some of his limbs are twisted at unusual angles, and it’s not until he releases a pained groan and rolls onto his side to spit blood across your floor that you snap out of panicked girlfriend mode and into doctor mode.
You tie your hair up into a knot at the back of your head and rip your robe off, throwing it to the side to be dealt with later, and you drop to your knees next to him. “Alpha, I need my kit.”
“Where is it, cyare?”
“Under my bed, the green bag, not the blue one.” You don’t turn to see if he’s following your instructions, you know that he will. “Fordo, baby, can you hear me?”
His head rolls and you swallow your panic with great difficulty. Alpha returns with your med kit and the emergency gurney that you keep stored in your closet. He sets it up quickly while you go about removing Fordo’s armor.
He looks...bad.
His injuries wouldn’t look out of place on someone who’s been thrown from a speeder. Ideally you’d bring him to your medical suite, but…
Alpha brought him here, to you directly. Which means there is some information that you don’t have. Information that you don’t need. Not right now. Not yet.
Fordo’s eyes are closed, but he’s breathing. So you push everything from your mind except the next step you need to follow to keep him alive. You allow yourself a single touch of your fingers against his badly bruised, and bloodied, cheek. “It’s going to be alright, Fordo. I’m going to fix this.”
It takes you hours to pull Fordo back from the brink. Long enough that you have to send a comm to your coworkers telling them that you caught a bug and won’t be able to work today. Long enough that you skip not only breakfast, but also lunch and dinner.
But, by the time the sun sets, Fordo is stable. His wounds dressed, and is sleeping peacefully on the bed.
You leave Alpha watching him for as long as it takes for you to shower and make some quick food for the pair of you, and then you collapse on the couch next to Alpha, your head falling to his shoulder.
Now that you’re sure that one of the loves of your life isn’t going to die under your hands, you’re starting to tremble. And it’s obvious enough that Alpha, the other love of your life, wraps his strong arm around you and presses his hand against the back of your head.
“You did great, cyare.” he rumbles against your ear.
“Alpha...what happened?” It’s a demand. It’s a plea. You’re not sure, really, what it is, but you need to know. “He looked like he was thrown from a speeder-”
Alpha hesitates and you pull back to stare up at him. Alpha never hesitates. Ever.
You reach up and press your hand against his cheek, “Alpha?”
His dark eyes scan your face for a moment, and then he sighs and brings his hands up to cup your cheeks. Slowly he pulls you into a gentle kiss, and then presses his forehead against yours.
“You know the new Kaminoan who arrived the other day?”
“The doctor? Iza Nu or something, right?”
“Yeah. She had...ideas. Fordo-” He trails off, as though he doesn’t have the words to explain what he saw, what she did.
You consider his words for a moment, your gaze drifting from his face to linger on Fordo’s bruised and battered body, “If I’m understanding you correctly,” you murmurs, “Iza Nu did this to him.”
“...yes.”
You’re a doctor. You know exactly what would need to be done to a person to inflict those types of injuries on someone. In fact, you can even picture it in your head, exactly what tools would be needed, exactly how much force-
Not for the first time since you took this position, you feel the stirrings of rage deep in your heart. Unlike the previous occasions, though, this time you don’t shove the rage away. You don’t bottle it up.
This time you let is envelope you.
You’re done.
They have, finally, pushed you to the point where you can no longer look the other way.
You exhale slowly, and focus your attention back on Alpha and offer him the softest smile, “You look tired, love.”
His eyes close, “It’s been a long, long day.”
You hum your agreement, and gently card your fingers though his hair. “Fordo is using the cot, but he doesn’t need constant monitoring anymore if you want to sleep.”
“What about you?” He asks, pinning you in place with a serious gaze.
“I’m afraid I’m far, far too wired to try and sleep.” You trail your fingers down his cheek, “Will you try to get some sleep? For me?”
He searches your face for a moment longer and then he sighs and kisses you gently, “For you, I’ll try.” Alpha stands and pulls you with him, and he brings your hands to his lips, his gaze locked with yours, “I love you.”
“Love you too.” You watch as he vanishes into the bedroom and listen as he settles in the bed. If you close your eyes, you can see him shifting and turning until he’s comfortable. If this was a normal day, you’d be tucked protectively against his chest and Fordo would be pressed against your back and their hands would wander as they regaled you with stories about the day-
But today isn’t a normal day.
You press a feather light kiss against Fordo’s forehead, and check his IV one more time, before you straighten and head for the door. With luck, you’ll be back before Alpha realizes you’re gone.
You quickly walk through the halls, until you reach the office belonging to the newest Kaminoan. Iza Nu looks just like all of her brethren, though draped in the crisp white jacket of a medical professional.
She tilts her head when she sees you, “Ah. Doctor, you are feeling better? I was saddened to hear that you were unwell. I was looking forward to working with you.”
You hum a response, “Is this your workspace?”
“Indeed.” She gracefully motions towards the massive surgical suite, “I’m still trying to clean-”
You step into the suite, and trail your finger against the cold metal of the surgical table. There’s blood on the floor. “It looks like you had a busy day.”
“Indeed, the clones are most interesting subjects.”
You walk further into the room and pick up a scalpel that was left out. It was made for Kaminoan hands, not your much smaller human ones, so it looks more like a dagger in your hands. “Is that right?”
“Do you not agree?”
“They’re still human.” You reply flatly.
“That is true, I suppose.” The door to the surgical suite slides shut, “Ah, you like my scalpel? It was specially made for my hands.”
You hum noncommittally.
She walks over to you and reaches out for the blade, and you smile as you dodge her hand and press the blade against her chest...and then into her chest. She staggers back, a surprised noise falling from her as you twist the blade and then pull it out.
“Y-you...what-?”
“I have been...patient. I have been kind. I have been gracious.” You list quietly, “I find that it takes a lot to make me angry. But you...in one day you managed to cross the line.”
“I don’t-”
“Stop talking.” You don’t raise your voice. You don’t have to. “No one is coming to help you.”
She slides backwards on the floor. “Perhaps...we can talk about this?”
“I spend the majority of the day trying to save the life of the man you decided would be your test subject.” You say flatly, “There is nothing to talk about.”
“Please...I didn’t know he was yours. Have mercy-” She pleads.
“Mercy,” You repeat the word, as though it was foreign, “I have no mercy left to give.” And that’s that.
You leave the surgical suite 15 minutes later, Colt is leaning against the wall across from the room. He glances at you, and then passed you at the dead Kaminoan in the room, “Doctor.”
You tilt your head, “Commander.”
“Looks like there was an accident.” He notes absently as he pushes off the wall and brushes passed you, “Is Fordo okay?”
“He will be.”
“Good. I’ll handle this.”
“You’re an angel, Colt.”
“I know I am.” He smirks at you, “Beat it, doc.”
You favor him with the smallest smile and turn to head back to your room.
Alpha is sitting on the couch when you return, and Fordo is somehow awake and talking. “Welcome back, cyare.” Alpha greets, “Get everything sorted?”
You hum your answer and walk over to check on Fordo, “Colt is handling the rest.” You smile warmly at Fordo and press your hand against his cheek, “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a bus,” He replies honestly as he leans into your touch, “Sorry for worrying you.”
You blink tears out of your eyes, “It’s alright. I’m just glad Alpha brought you to me.”
Fordo turns his head and kisses the palm of your hand, “As if he’d bring me to anyone else.” He focuses his gaze on your face, “Love you, cyare.”
“Love you too, Fordo. Get some more sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake.” You whisper as you brush your fingers though his hair.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
As he drifts back to sleep, you sink onto the couch next to Alpha and bury yourself into his side. He kisses the top of your head, but doesn’t say anything. Because there’s nothing left to say.
#star wars#tcw#alpha-17 x reader x arc captain fordo#alpha x reader x fordo#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks
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*jumps in* Hi!!! 10, a kiss on the jawline with Fox/Bail/Breha pls? May I suggest Bail and Breha giving Fox kisses on the jawline?
You may suggest, and you shall receive!
Fox had not had any idea about intimacy when he had left Kamino.
That wasn’t his fault. Kamino just really didn’t do any kind of education on anything of the sort. It wasn’t deemed important, because they were the soldiers of the Republic, and good soldiers didn’t have the time or the luxury to participate in such activities. Needless distractions, meant for actual people, and therefore, not meant for the clones.
Of course, Fox had known something. They had a health class that came with everyone having to possess baseline medical skills. They knew how their bodies worked. They knew all the scientific names for every part of themselves. There had just been no information for anything else they could do with their bodies, other than fight and die. There had been rumours, as well, tiny specks that had trickled down from the older clones and finally to them, but all of it had been extremely vague and sounded honestly baffling. Fox had not understood why someone would want to put their mouths on anyone. That had to be unhygienic.
If they figured out some things their bodies could do by themselves, in the little privacy they got from the Kaminoans and the trainers? Well, nobody really talked about that either.
Fox ended up figuring it all out very quickly once he started his posting on Coruscant.
How could he not? It was everywhere. It took Fox pretty much only a week or so to figure out that bodies and attraction could sell absolutely everything, even things that really didn’t make sense to him. Sometimes it really seemed like no matter what was being advertised, there would be a barely clothed person in the ad as well.
After realising that, it was easy to figure out the rest. Even the putting your mouth on another person-thing. Fox had realised in a rather sudden and frankly, embarrassing, way that he wasn’t as immune to other people’s bodies as he had previously thought. Stone was, and he made fun of the rest of them relentlessly. The bastard.
Well, it wasn’t like Fox was ever going to…explore any of that. He didn’t have the time, and, even more importantly, he really didn’t want to get out of his armor in front of just about anybody. No, if he ever wanted to do anything with anyone, it needed to be someone he trusted completely like that. Especially because…Fox wasn’t going to say that he was intimidated by it all, but…every time he saw other people having any sort of intimacy, they made it look easy and natural. Like they knew exactly what they were doing during every second of it. That was the one thing Fox just couldn’t figure out how it worked.
Maybe he would, if he ever got the chance, but…no, he had too much to do already. He wasn’t attracted to anyone specific. Maybe…maybe he was just too late already.
So he tried to ignore it, and it was going rather well, but then Bail Prestor Organa had to come marching into his life with his gentle eyes and kind smiles and soft words. He just had to, and just like that, Fox was gone.
With all of that, also came the very intense experience of having wants and it all being targeted towards a specific person.
With all of those wants, came back the realisation that Fox had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.
He tried his best to not show any insecurity. He kept his head high and his exterior collected, even when he was constantly sputtering and stumbling on the inside. Thankfully Bail was being gracious by going very slowly. One half of Fox was very glad that Bail had a wife and thus knew about things already, but at the same time, the other half of him was terrified of the same fact. Fox hated being embarrassed, and even more, he hated the sole idea of being embarrassed in front of Bail.
So, Fox, sitting on the edge of Bail’s desk, gripped the said edge of the desk very hard to keep his breathing in check and his body in place, while Bail had one of his hands on Fox’s back and the other one on his waist, and his lips pressed against Fox’s neck.
Fox really, really understood the appeal of putting your mouth onto someone else now. By the gods, did he understand it. He gripped the desk even harder, letting the hard wood press into his palms to keep himself from making any sort of noise.
He was doing really well on it, until Bail moved his lips up, all the way to the corner of Fox’s jaw, and so very gently pressed kisses down along the line of it. Fox hadn’t thought of himself ticklish before, but apparently, he had thought wrong, because a surprised laugh escaped from his mouth, and with it, also a partial moan he had attempted to keep down just a second prior.
Fox didn’t have the time to properly register what he had just done, when he felt Bail’s lips curl up against his skin, and then Bail was pressing another kiss on Fox’s jaw, and another, and another, more and more, along the line.
Another laugh escaped Fox before he could stop it, his whole body shaking with it, and his lack of resistance gave Bail just more opportunities to kiss him even more.
“Bail”, Fox managed to choke out between laughs and other noises he did not want to name. “Bail, Bail, stop-”
Bail did stop. He backed away and straightened up, so he could look Fox properly in the eyes.
“Yes?” He asked, again, with the soft way he always spoke to Fox with. “Is everything alright?”
He sounded almost concerned, and Fox had to hurry to answer, before Bail would get stressed, all because Fox was being weird.
“Yes”, Fox blurted out, still just a little breathless. “Yes, everything is okay, I just- I’m sorry.”
It didn’t work, because Bail just looked even more concerned now than he had been before Fox had started babbling.
“Sorry for what?” He asked, so earnestly, that Fox, even with the embarrassment aflame inside him, had to answer truthfully.
“For-” He swallowed, “-being…not good at this.”
Somehow, Bail managed to look both even more concerned and confused at the same time.
“What are you talking about?” He asked. “You’re doing just fine.”
“No, I-” Fox had to look down towards his lap. “I just made it weird by…you know.”
“By laughing?” Bail asked. Fox nodded. “Fox, I was quite intentionally trying to make you laugh.”
Fox whipped his head back up. Bail had an odd expression on his face now, though mainly he looked utterly perplexed.
“What?” He blurted, because, quite frankly, he had no idea what was going on anymore.
“Quite honestly, I was starting to be a little concerned”, Bail said, “that you were not enjoying this, and were just making yourself do it to please me.”
“What?” Fox repeated, because now he really had no idea what was going on. “Of course I do! I just- I was just trying to be good.”
Oh, the way Bail looked at him then, with so much care and affection on his face and in his eyes that it made Fox want to both explode and melt down to a puddle.
“Fox”, Bail said, the same amount of care and affection in his voice as well, “you are being good. All of this is supposed to be fun to you. The only thing you should be doing right now, is to just enjoy it, and not care about anything else.”
For some reason, that was the moment it all clicked for Fox. Attractiveness sold. Sex sold. It only made sense that everything he had seen about all of it, had been a product to sell something, even if it was just a false ideal of things.
“Oh”, he breathed, the strength of the realisation making him a little light-headed. “Oh. Um.”
Bail, being perfect, like he always was, waited patiently for Fox to gather himself.
“Can we-” Fox gripped the edge of desk, this time to just ground himself. “Can we start over?”
Bail smiled at him.
“Of course”, he said. He leaned a little closer, before stopping momentarily. “Just to make sure. It was all alright to you? What we were doing before?”
Fox nodded.
“Yes”, he answered, and with that, Bail leaned back down, his lips finding Fox’s skin again.
Right at Fox’s jawline.
Even though Fox knew it was coming this time, he still didn’t manage to quell his laughter in time. This time, though, he didn’t even really try.
Still.
“Bail.”
Bail laughed as well.
“I’m sorry”, he said. “I just had to.”
Fox huffed, and was just about to say something rather snarky, when Bail’s mouth moved to the side and up, and he nipped the skin right behind Fox’s ear.
Fox could yet again feel Bail’s grin against his skin as another high-pitched, surprised moan escaped Fox’s mouth.
—
Fox was starting to think that he was getting rather good at this.
He was basing this thought in the way Breha looked right then, smiling and outright glowing, her breaths still just calming down.
“Good?” Fox asked still.
Breha hummed, catching her breath for another moment before answering.
“Good”, she said, and giggled lightly as Fox pressed small kisses on her collarbones. She let Fox freely move her around, only sighing contently as he laid down and tucked her close to his side. Her bare body was soft and warm against Fox’s own, and Fox could really only marvel at it all.
How he had gotten here, how he had gotten so lucky, Fox still couldn’t quite understand.
He must’ve fallen deeper into his thoughts than he realised, because he only snapped out of it when Breha moved.
“I thought, back when I met Bail, that I couldn’t possibly get any happier than I already was”, she said, as she pushed herself up on her elbows, and lightly rested her head on top of Fox’s chest. “Somehow, though, the Galaxy deemed me worthy enough for you as well.”
Fox snorted a little.
“Between you and me, I should be the one saying that”, he said. “You, on the other hand, are easily the most worthy person of all the happiness there is.”
Breha sighed, still fondly.
“Well, look at it this way”, she said, lifting her head up again, “aren’t we lucky, that we found happiness together?”
She looked at him with bright eyes, her voice so full of love, that Fox’s voice caught somewhere inside his throat.
There it was again. Yes, weren’t they so lucky? Somehow, somehow, Fox had found happiness, and at the same time, managed to be the reason for someone else to be happy as well? That shouldn’t have been how it worked. Fox was made to be expendable, someone not important enough to be taught more about life, someone whose search for happiness was deemed detrimental and needless before he even had gotten the opportunity to begin his search-
His thoughts were broken up again by soft, warm lips pressing against his jaw. Fox blinked, and then a laugh was already making its way out of him, as Breha braced herself more against the bed for better leverage, and moved her mouth up Fox’s jawline, peppering him with soft, sweet kisses.
Fox tapped her on her back.
“Breha.”
“Sorry”, she said, leaning her face back down on Fox’s chest. “Bail told me about it, and I had to try it.”
“Of course he did.” Breha laughed at his exasperated tone.
“I love it when you laugh”, she said. “I love it when you are happy. I love you.”
She looked up at him and smiled. Fox smiled back.
“I love you too”, he said, and wrapped his arms around Breha as she wrapped herself around him.
#this ended up....really long#help#also ended up a liiiittle suggestive at the end#but still! overall this came out pretty soft I think#especially compared to the other promt I have left for them. looking at you Sticks#that one? that one is uhhhhh. you know#anyway here I love them!#sw#tcw#Star Writing#my writing#ask games#ficlets#Commander Fox#Bail Organa#Breha Organa
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Dream of You
Summary: You know things. Things you shouldn’t. You knew about the clones, about the Republic’s army long before the war started. You knew about their training, you knew about attacks and battles even before they happened, long before the rest of the galaxy knew about them. Your only regret is not saying something sooner.
Pairing: Echo x reader Soulmate AU
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, slight aftercare, angst, war, Echo's "death", slight description of medical stuff, paranoia, depression, very brief implied mention of suicidal thoughts, fluffy, happy ending, Soulmate AU
A/N: Did I intend the last two soulmate fics to have similar links...not really. It just happened this way. Also, this is the NSFW Echo soulmate fic, the one with ace!reader is coming shortly. I'll be making a post when I'm close to finishing that one. I really struggled with this so sorry if it's garbage. Echo was not musing for me this time around.
MASTERLIST
Blaster fire.
It’s all around you, though that was fairly common for your dreams. You’re not sure where you are. You can’t see anything defining, nothing that would point out where you are or what you’re doing.
“This is our only chance. We’ve got to stop him.” The voice echoes in your head. It’s coming from you. It’s your voice.
You rush forward, grabbing a shield from the ground despite the bolts being fired at you. You rush towards the shuttle, firing at the droids in an attempt to secure it.
“Echo look out!”
Before the words register in your mind, before you can react you’re flying, being thrown forward by a wave of heat and energy.
An explosion.
The sound registers in your ears as you hit the ground. It’s dark, wherever you’ve landed. The pain begins to register as the shock wears off. Your whole body feels as if it's on fire. You can feel your pulse in your legs and arms, blood on your tongue. You can’t move. Even if you wanted to, even if you tried to call out, you can’t.
You’re dying.
****
You wake with a scream. Tears are gliding down your cheeks, and have been judging on the dampness of your face. You’re shaking uncontrollably, breaths coming in hyperventilating gasps.
Your soulmate’s going to die.
A hand lands on your shoulder, shaking you gently. “You alright?”
You’re still hyperventilating, your brain refusing to respond. You’re soulmate’s going to die. Your soulmate’s going to die. It’s the only thing you can think of.
“Look at me.” One of your fellow medics, Zena, kneels down on the other side of you. You like Zena. You’d consider her a friend. “I need you to breathe, otherwise you’re going to pass out.”
She’s right. You can feel the tingling in your hands and feet and face as the carbon dioxide in your blood rapidly decreases. Zena takes a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. You try to mimic her, slowing your hyperventilating until your breathing is semi-even, broken only by the occasional sobs as you continue to cry.
“What is it?” Zena asks, sitting on the edge of your bunk. “What’s going on?”
“E-Echo.” You stutter out. “He’s...he’s go-gonna die!”
A sympathetic look crosses her face. She’s one of the few that know about your soulmate, an ARC Trooper stationed with the 501st named Echo. You’ve never met, at least in person. You share a unique connection with him. Every time you sleep, you dream of what your soulmate will experience the next day. It started about eight years ago. You knew things about the GAR, about the war, long before it started. You’ve dreamed of battles that have happened since, things you shouldn’t know. Things that would get you arrested and sent to interrogation.
It was what led you to sign up to be a medic, the hope that you might by chance run into your soulmate. Of course, you hadn’t known back then about the rules, the Kaminoans and the GAR forbidding the clones from forming links with their soulmates. The more you learned about the clones, the more angry it made you at the GAR.
Zena squeezes your arm. “Maybe...maybe Commander Bly could help. He could alert the 501st command or something.”
You scrub a hand over your face, smearing tears all over your skin. She’s right. Maybe...maybe things aren’t hopeless. You’re risking a lot. You’ll have to reveal your connection to Echo. If anyone finds out, he’ll be forced to reject you. By saving him, you might force yourselves apart for good.
It would be better than losing him permanently.
You throw the covers back, sliding your feet into your boots. “I need to find the Commander.”
You’ve only spoken to Commander Bly once, while you patched his wound after a battle. You didn’t interact with command much outside the med bay. You were so far below their ranks. Your job was to patch wounds and keep injured troopers alive long enough to receive care. You were about to step so far out of your zone, but if it might save your soulmate’s life, then it will be worth it.
You’re out the door of the bunks in a flash, before anyone can bring into question your course of action, before you can really question your decision. You head to the bridge, the first place you can think of as to where Commander Bly might be.
You’re stopped at the doors before you can even get inside. “Authorized personnel only.” The trooper says.
“I need to see Commander Bly.” You say, putting as much authority in your voice as you can.
“He’s busy.” The trooper says.
“It’s an emergency.” You say. “Lives are at stake.”
The troopers at the door share a glance before one steps inside. You only get a quick glance through the doors before they’re closing again. You stand there and wait for what feels like too long, before the doors open, the trooper returning with Commander Bly in tow.
He seems far more imposing now than he had when you’d patched his wound. You had been running high on adrenaline, patching trooper after trooper for hours after the battle ended. The adrenaline made you more brave. You could use some of that now. Right now all you have is desperation.
Commander Bly leads you to a private room, your heart pounding in your chest. How were you going to tell him? How were you going to make him believe you? You’d have to spill, you’d have to tell him the truth and hope he believed the same as the other clones about soulmates. You’re risking so much, but if it saves even one life, perhaps it will be worth it.
“You think someone’s in trouble?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
You nod, taking a deep breath. Your hands are still shaking, still rattled by your dream. “It’s the 501st, sir.” You push the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of your Commander. “Something’s wrong, something’s going to happen.”
“And how do you know this?” He asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at you.
“My...my soulmate is with the 501st.” You say. “We share a dream connection. I-I had a dream last night. He’s going to die.”
Commander Bly stares at you for a moment before he sighs, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Warn them. Contact them. Something!” You say, raising your voice a bit. “There has to be something that can be done.”
He shakes his head. “The 501st is on a campaign right now. No warning I could send is going to change what happens. We have to do our duty first.”
Tears blur your eyes at his words. Of course it was foolish to think you could stop one clone from dying. You shouldn’t have bothered. Now you could be reported to GAR officials.
“I’m sorry.” The Commander at least has the decency to sound sympathetic. He puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “There’s a shuttle leaving for Coruscant in less than an hour. I’ll put in the leave request paperwork.”
You feel defeated. That’s it, then. There’s no swooping in and saving him, no way of preventing his death. Maybe this was the way it was always supposed to be. Fate wouldn’t give you a soulmate you weren’t going to meet.
So what does that say about you?
You drag your feet back to the barracks, packing your things silently as the tears slide down your cheeks. You feel numb, like your body is already preparing for the inevitable pain. It was going to happen today. You don’t know exactly when. It’s almost worse.
You find the shuttle, boarding it without a word. You squish yourself in between two crates, pulling your knees to your chest as you wait for the soul-crushing pain of your soulmate’s death to hit you.
***
You’ve been on Coruscant for two days. You’ve fluttered in and out of sleep, tears, and a deep numbness that prevented you from doing much else besides sitting and staring out the window of your hotel. You haven’t dreamed once in the many hours you’ve spent asleep. It’s all been dark, black, a void of nothingness.
Was this what it felt like losing a soulmate?
No one could ever fully describe it. They said it was horribly painful, like a piece of them was dying and decaying and it left a gaping hole in its place that never fully healed.
You certainly feel like one big gaping hole.
There’s been no pain, no soul-shredding feeling. Just numbness and emptiness. Perhaps it’s different for everyone. Perhaps your brain had blocked it out to save you from the pain of having to feel part of your soul dying.
On the third day they arrive.
You had managed to drag yourself into the shower, and you answer the door with dripping hair. Two members of the Coruscant Guard stand at your door. They ask your name and you confirm it. You’ve been summoned to the GAR headquarters.
You already know what this is about.
They let you at least make yourself decent and put shoes on before they escort you to the speeder. You’re not under arrest, which is a good sign, but you can imagine you’re headed into an interrogation. Someone had spilled on your link, on your knowledge of things you shouldn’t have known. Was it Commander Bly? One of your fellow civilians?
You’re not mad.
You’re far too numb to feel anything that strong.
You’re escorted into the building and led through the labyrinth of lifts and halls. You’re left in a room with hardly more than a table and chairs and an overhead light. You lower yourself into one of the chairs, trying to prepare yourself for your impending interrogation. You can only imagine the things you’re going to get asked about.
You’re not sure how long you wait there in the plain, windowless room. It feels like an external representation of how you feel inside. You can’t even bring yourself to feel nervous when an Admiral joins you in the room.
He asks your name and your station, questions you can easily answer. You know you can’t lie. Getting caught in a lie isn’t going to help you any, and besides, why would you lie now? Your soulmate’s dead. They can’t do anything about it.
“Having highly confidential information about the GAR and its battles puts you in a precarious situation.” The Admiral says.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” You say. “After all, my soulmate is dead.”
“Yes, what a pity. The loss of clones is an unfortunate aspect of the war that the Republic has no choice but to accept.” The Admiral says, no sympathy in his tone whatsoever. “You could have been a useful asset. Perhaps if we had known, things could have gone differently.”
Your hands ball into fists, sudden rage boiling under the surface. It’s the first thing you’ve felt in days. You know it’s not true. They wouldn’t have risked anything to save Echo. He’s just another clone to them. Another faceless body to throw in front of a blaster.
You’re shuttled back to your hotel and left at the door like nothing had happened. You’re still burning with rage, your body clinging to the first emotion it’s been able to conjure in days. You want to flip the table in your room, destroy the bed, break a window, something. You don’t have that kind of money, though, to pay for those damages. Nor do you want to put some poor housekeeper through that.
Instead you drop on the bed and let out a scream into the pillow. The rage begins to boil down to tears, your sobs muffled by the dampening pillow. You cry yourself to sleep, drifting back into a state of numbness.
***
It’s cold. You can’t see anything, you can’t hear anything. All around you is cold and dark. You can’t move, you can’t feel. You’re numb. The pain is gone, replaced by nothing. Nothing but numbing blackness in the cold around you.
No, wait. You can hear something. Something off in the distance. It’s getting louder, echoing in your mind.
CT-1409.
CT-1409.
***
You can still hear it when you wake.
CT-1409.
You blink the tears from your lashes, sitting up on the bed. It’s night, the city illuminated outside the window. You haven’t been asleep long. You’d been in the GAR headquarters longer than you thought.
CT-1409.
You rise from the bed, moving towards the window, looking down at the city as far as you can, until it disappears into the cloud of haze that separates the upper and lower levels. You suddenly back away from the window, all but punching the button to close the shutters. It cuts off the only light, bathing the room in complete darkness. For half a moment you expect the cold to come seeping back in.
CT-1409.
You need to get off Coruscant. You need to get out from under the eyes of the Republic. You need to hide. You need to disappear before they make you.
CT-1409.
You use your savings to purchase a ship. It’s a piece of junk, but it has hyperspace capabilities. That’s all you need. You need to find somewhere remote. After that, you’ll figure it out from there. You have little money left, but being a medic means you’ll be able to find jobs easily. You can work anywhere. Someone’s always looking to hire medics.
You just need to disappear from the Republic.
*** 2 Years Later ***
You’re still dreaming.
You had dreamed of the frozen darkness most out of everything. Occasionally you’d get more. Strange noises, things spoken in a language you couldn’t understand. Occasionally you’ll see flashes, images. You can never quite make them out.
You think it might be your brain trying to get used to dreaming its own dreams again. Or perhaps it's your brain's way of trying to make up for the loss of your soulmate. The numbness has slowly faded into the background, though it hasn’t really left. You found a remote planet to live on, one far from war. You got a job at the medical center in a small town, the job almost boring compared to the heart racing adrenaline inducing insanity of the war.
You don’t mind. It keeps you off the radar.
You’ve built a decent life here in two years. As decent a life as you could, at least. You still feel empty and lonely. That longing feeling for your other half hasn’t left. The fact you know you’ll never get to have him only makes it worse.
You cry more than you’d like to admit. You understand now why people don’t last long when their soulmate dies. You’d hardly call this living. More just simply existing.
You have considered it. You can never quite bring yourself to. There’s always something in the back of your mind holding you back. Sometimes you wish you were brave enough.
It’s one of those nights when it happens.
***
It’s dark and cold again. It feels different this time. Something’s happening, but you’re confused.
Suddenly the darkness is gone, and you’re staring at what seems to be a control room.
“We-We have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel.” The voice echoes in your head. “No! I’ll go first!”
“Echo.” Another voice says. “Echo, it’s Rex. I’m here.”
A face enters your vision. You know that face. You’ve seen it many times. “Rex? You, you came back for me?”
“Yes.” He looks guilty. “Yes I did.”
“What, what happened? Where am I?” Your gaze swings to look around the room.
“It’s okay, Echo.” Your gaze is drawn back to Rex. “You’re safe now. Just sit tight trooper. You’re going home.”
***
You startle awake, tears sliding down your cheeks. You stare at the wall across from your bed in disbelief. It can’t be...but it had felt like the other dreams.
Has he been alive this whole time?
Had he somehow survived the explosion? It would explain the other dreams, the lack of pain at his passing. Had your suffering been simply your own creation because you thought he was dead?
Has he been alive this whole time?
Your dream means he’ll be getting rescued today. Hope blooms inside you that it is true, that it is really a dream of what’s going to happen. Many feelings flood you for the first time in a long time. The numbness is pushed away as emotions bubble within you. You don’t know whether to be happy or worried or sad or relieved. All you can do is cry. Again.
Of course, you’ll have no way of knowing if it really does come true. You have no connections in the GAR anymore, and you can’t risk them finding you. You did sort of desert the army and break your contract. You know a prison cell is waiting for you if you go back.
Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet.
You’re not entirely sure you trust fate. It’s put you through the wringer, but with this new development, that could change. Maybe you will find your way together after all.
You call out of work, knowing you won’t be able to focus. You hardly leave your bed, thinking over the dream, over the fact your soulmate is alive. The longer you lay there, the faster the regrets start seeping in. What if you hadn’t left the Republic? You could have found a way to finally get to him, to finally meet him for the first time.
There was no guarantee.
Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet. Perhaps it was always meant to happen this way. Perhaps it was better if it happened this way.
***
Your dreams return to normal as the months pass. Dreams of battles continue to be the most common. You see new faces now, faces you don’t recognize in your dreams through Echo’s eyes. Things have changed for him too.
You’ve always wondered what he saw in his dreams. Battles too, you imagined, though different ones than the ones he partook in. You wonder if he ever saw the clones you couldn’t save, his brothers suffering, you attempting to save their lives.
Your dreams must seem very boring now.
You wonder if he had still dreamed of you during the period of...whatever had happened to him. You wonder if he feels relief seeing how different your life is now. You wonder what he thinks of you.
You wonder if he even wants to meet you.
You shake those thoughts away, burying yourself in your work at the medical center. You don’t want to think about it. Rejection was still a strong possibility. Between the war and the GAR and the fact that not everyone wanted a soulmate, he could still reject you.
You force the thoughts away, focusing on your dreams instead. Watching what he’s doing, making sure he’s not going to die again.
Then the war ends.
Despite the war being over, chaos still ensues in the galaxy. You don’t trust the Empire, and that distrust only continues as your dreams continue. You watch the things that happen to Echo, and his eventual desertion. You’re helpless to do much but watch the events that transpire.
You wait patiently, biding your time as Echo and his squad try to find their place in the galaxy. It feels almost wrong to have such a front row seat to the goings on in his life despite never having met him in person before. Then again, he has a front row seat to your life as well, though your life is much more boring than his, even now.
As the weeks pass and the disruption continues in the galaxy, your new home planet remains entirely untouched. There wasn't much special about it. No major exports, no convenient hyperspace lanes nearby, no major cities. It's a perfect place to hide.
Echo has also found a place to hide. You begin to see a place popping up in your dreams regularly. An idea begins to form in your head as you learn about the place in your dreams.
Ord Mantell.
Cid's Parlor.
You could easily find that place. Ord Mantell's not far from your current home. You could reach it in a matter of hours. All you have to do is take time off work and jump in your scrap pile of a ship.
The idea makes you nervous. What if he doesn't want to meet you? What if he rejects you? Years. Years you've been waiting for this. You spent years thinking he was dead. Now he's within reach and...you're scared.
You dream of yourself that night.
You've already made up your mind, or fate has made it for you.
You're halfway to Ord Mantell before the sun rises on your home planet.
***
Cid's Parlor is a rather seedy place. You've been in worse, but you suppose for a front it's perfect. You take the stairs slowly, trying to remember to breathe. This is the moment. Two years ago you would have been running in and throwing your arms around him.
It's been a long two years.
You enter the bar, the inside not any better than the outside. There's a weequay and an ithorian at a dejarik table, and then the five at the bar. You recognize them from your dreams. Well, you recognize four of them.
You've never actually seen Echo. You were always seeing from his perspective. You always assumed he'd look like the other clones, but then you'd seen the new group he was with and realized maybe they don't all look alike.
You can pick him out in the group by process of elimination. You recognize the other three, having seen them at various points, and then of course there's the girl. You take a long look at Echo, tears gathering in your eyes.
You're so close. So close.
"Echo?" You ask, the bar seeming to go quiet as soon as you say it.
Everyone turns to look at you, brows furrowed in confusion. Echo steps back from the bar, staring at you. He's paler than the others, his face sunken and gaunt. There's a headset wrapped around his head, and you notice the cybernetic right arm.
The furrow of his brows lift into shock, his eyes widening as he stares at you. He whispers your name, almost too quiet for you to hear.
You're moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around him. He's solid and warm and his plastoid chest plate digs into your skin, but you don't care. He's real.
His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you against him.
"I-I didn't think..." You sniffle, a tear sliding down your cheek. "Two years! I thought you were dead."
He lets out a chuckle, his hand sliding down your back. "Yeah. Everyone thought I was."
You pull away as a throat clears beside you. Your cheeks warm a bit. You'd completely forgotten the others.
"Echo...care to explain?" The one with the bandana, Hunter you think, asks.
Echo slips his arm back around you, holding you against his side. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my soulmate."
The guarded look on Hunter's face lessens just a bit. You hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms and trusted immediately. Not after the things you've seen.
You get introduced to everyone, and you find yourself sitting at the bar, telling Echo all about yourself. Where you came from, how you joined the GAR, why you left, where you wound up. He knew a lot already. He'd dreamed of you occasionally during the two years you'd thought he was dead. He hadn't really understood what was happening during that time though. To be fair, you hadn't either.
You talk a bit about them, filling in some gaps in your understanding of what was happening to them.
"We need somewhere to lay low for a while." Hunter says.
"Well, I just happen to know the perfect place." You say. "It kept me hidden from the Republic and there hasn't been even a glance from the Empire so far."
"It's out of the way of most hyperspace lanes." Tech says, typing away at his datapad. "No major cities or ports. Mostly self-sufficient. Nothing anyone would be interested in."
You shrug. "It's not much, but it is safe."
***
"We're going in that?" Echo asks as you stand next to your ship docked at the port.
"Hey, don't hate on Bertha." You pat the side of the ship, something clanging inside. "She helped me escape the Republic."
You lower the ramp, having to fiddle with it as it sticks for a moment. Echo gives you an incredulous look but you wave him in. She may be a bit temperamental, but your ship has a special place in your heart.
"Tech will have a heyday with this one if you let him get his hands on it." Echo says, taking the copilot's seat.
"Well, he's more than welcome if he gets bored." You say, firing up the engine. "Can't make her any worse." You grin at him, giving the control panel a solid smack to stop it from rattling.
Echo doesn't relax until you're in hyperspace. You don't take it personally. You had been a little nervous flying the first time but though she was prone to rattling, Bertha flew perfectly fine.
You turn to look at Echo as the blue of hyperspace surrounds you. You reach out, pressing your hand to his cheek. His skin isn't as warm as you'd expect, your brow furrowing a little.
His hand lifts, resting against yours. Your thumb strokes his cheek, reminding yourself that he's real. He's right here with you finally.
"Echo...what happened to you?" You ask.
And he tells you. You spend the entire trip listening to his story. He starts at the beginning, explaining things you knew and many you didn't. You listen to it all. The good, the bad, the heartbreaking.
You cry for him a few times. Cry for the pain and the misery and the torture he's faced. He wipes your tears, dampening his glove but he doesn't seem to care.
You talk almost the entire flight, catching up on years of missed time. Echo only slightly clings to the seat as Bertha drops from hyperspace and you begin the hour flight to your home planet. It's slow going, Bertha not exactly made for speed.
The others are already there when you land, by no surprise. Though your home was small, you could offer them a roof over their head until they found something more permanent.
If they decided to stay here.
You try not to think about that too much.
"Glad you made it." Hunter says, eyeing Bertha as you and Echo step off the ramp.
"Not you too." You make a face. "She flies just fine, she's just got creaky joints."
You can already see the wheels turning in Tech's head as he eyes Bertha. You lead them inside, showing them your small house. You only have one spare room and a couch but they assure you they can just sleep on the ship. You feel bad, but then again you hadn't really been expecting this when you ran from the Republic.
You hadn't expected a lot to happen.
You make dinner, probably the first home cooked meal they've had in a long time, or possibly ever. Echo hovers in the kitchen but you don't mind. You like having him close after all this time. You're still a little afraid you'll turn around and find he's gone. Like he's been a figment of your imagination this whole time.
They leave you and Echo the house for the night, and you can tell by the look on Hunter's face it's deliberate. You hadn't really considered that but you knew anything could happen after you meet your soulmate.
You find Echo in your room after you finish cleaning up. He's standing next to the bed, tracing the carving on the wall.
CT-1409
You'd carved it after hearing it again in your dream. You'd been half dazed, repeating the number over and over in your head.
He turns to look at you, fingers resting in the center of the 9. Your cheeks warm a bit, not having thought about that. You just have his designation number carved in your wall. You might as well have his name there.
"I did that after I heard it in a dream." You say, approaching the bed. "I couldn't get it out of my head." You crawl onto the bed, kneeling next to him. "I put it there because it felt like in a way you were still with me, though I know now you never left."
He drops his hand, turning to face you. He looks a little guilty. "I'm sorry for putting you through that."
"Don't apologize for something you couldn't control." You say, putting your hand on his scomp arm. "You're here now. That's what matters."
He glances down at your hand before looking back up at your face, those big brown eyes shining in the orange light of sunset shining in through your window.
"I made a promise once." He says, staring at you. "To someone very close to me. We promised each other that after the war ended, we'd find our soulmates and settle down somewhere. Get married and have families. Grow old together far away from everything else."
You smile softly at him, gently guiding him to sit on your bed with you. "Well, I'd be more than happy to help you keep your part of the promise."
You sit with him, talking late into the night. There's no rush now. You have all the time in the world.
***1 Year Later***
"Just a pinch of this." You say, blindly holding out the jar of spice.
It's taken from your hand and set on the counter, your ears picking up the small clink of metal on tile. Hands grip your waist from behind as you stand on your toes to reach the second shelf of the cupboard.
"You know I can reach those easily." Echo murmurs in your ear.
You grin at him over your shoulder. "I know. I also know you love looking at my ass."
He practically purrs, hands sliding lower. "I do love your ass."
You press back into his hands, one flesh, the other cybernetic. He'd ditched the scomp a few months ago now that he's retired to a boring civilian life.
"We don't have a lot of time before they get here." You say, straightening up to try and slip out from where he has you pinned to the counter.
He presses against you harder, hands moving to trap you between him and the counter. "They can wait for dinner." He breathes into your ear, pressing his half-hard cock against your ass. "I want dessert first."
You bite your lip, letting out a strangled moan as he grinds against you. "At least turn the burner off." You breathe.
Echo presses a kiss to your neck before he pulls away, reaching back to shut off the stove. You turn in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he turns back to you.
He pins you against the counter once more, molding his lips against yours as his hands trail back down your sides. You deepen the kiss, pulling him even closer. You can feel him, fully hard against your stomach now.
His hands grip your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. One of your hands slides up to tangle in the curls that have regrown over the last few months. He groans quietly against your lips, hands parting your thighs for him.
He steps between your legs, your skirt riding up around your waist, revealing your panties underneath. His fingers rub the damp fabric, teasing you before he tugs them aside, meeting your flesh.
You moan into his mouth, pressing your hips into his hand as he circles your clit. You're already worked up just from kissing him, the familiar heat igniting under your skin from his touch.
"Kriff." You breathe against his lips, grinding against his hand. "Make me feel so good."
He hums contently against your lips. "Good. You deserve to feel good."
You slip a hand down his front, palming him through his pants. "I'd feel better with you inside me, though.".
He grins, pressing one more steamy kiss against your lips. "Yes, ma'am."
You shriek as he tugs you right to the edge of the counter, holding you steady with one hand while the other pulls his cock from his pants.
You wrap your arms back around his neck as he presses close between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. You moan quietly, playing with the ends of his hair as he slowly presses into you.
He groans, pressing his face into your neck as he slides into your warm passage, your body wet and ready for him.
It never gets old, the feeling being so connected to him invokes. Your very soul seems to hum with pleasure from being so close, so connected. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he settles inside you.
He presses a soft kiss to your lips as you sit in the moment for just a second, savoring the feeling before he begins moving. His thrusts are slow yet deliberate. They reach deep into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you over and over.
You won't last long, you know it as your legs begin to tremble around him. You moan against his lips, hands fisting his shirt as he picks up the pace just a little.
You whine as you cum around him, milking his own orgasm from his body. He moans into your neck, holding you tightly as he spills into you.
You stay still, just breathing and feeling each other for a few moments. Your hands gently massage his neck and his shoulders, easing the ache you know he feels from his cybernetics sometimes.
He presses gentle kisses to your neck, not enough to leave marks but still enough to pull quiet sounds from your lips.
He kisses a trail up your jaw to your lips, both of you pausing at the knock on the door.
"Hunter's gonna know." You murmur against his lips.
"He probably already does." Echo says, kissing you once more. "Probably heard us halfway down the street."
Your cheeks warm as he pulls away from you, fixing his clothes before helping you look presentable as well. You turn on the stove once more before pulling out the disinfectant spray.
Taglist:
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#star wars#star wars fic#the bad batch#the bad batch fic#clone wars#clone wars fic#tbb echo x reader#bad batch echo x reader#clone trooper echo x reader#x reader#clone thirsting
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I understand why people are upset that Ventress didn't really 'add anything' but to be honest I really liked how vague they kept it.
It's realistic. Ventress wouldn't know anything about m count experiments, and if she did her Intel would have been based on the clone war - I don't think she would've known anything about Project Necromancer considering there's a lot of security and it also seems to be a newer project.
I think Ventress answered the Jedi question for us very clearly - Omega isn't a Jedi. She could have the potential (I guess like Sabine - someone with low aptitude but can be pushed into Jedi status with the right training?) but that's not why the Empire is after her midichlorian wise.
I am really looking forward to seeing how they explain her blood, I think they're really tapping into Kaminoan/Clone centered experiments and lore which is so REFRESHING
I honestly feel like in the Clone Wars series and the Bad Batch too we are always getting CRUMBS on what life was like on Kamino, the extent of the experimentations and lack of commentary on just how BIZARRE the clone army really is. There were millions of them commissioned on some Jedi 'Vision' and they barely lasted a generation (10 years to make, 3 they served in the war(?))
We are only really seeing the aftermath experimentations with the new dark trooper clones (idk the name sorry) but I am so looking forward to more clone lore (especially about female clones like emerie and Omega!!)
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Headcannon for Crosshair:
His eyes are not sensitive, they can adjust quickly to light and dark (like night vision), and can also zoom - like a camera, except the muscles adjust his lens to be more or less compact.
Also, since Kaminoans can see the ultraviolet spectrum, I headcannon that they experimented on Crosshair’s genetics to get this effect for him.
#star wars#the bad batch#tbb#bad batch#tbb crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#cros#croissant
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Please forgive me, I'm throwing more ingredients into the CX-2 pot. 😆
We see the operative use explosives (Wrecker), a sniper rifle (Crosshair), a knife (Hunter), and computer gadgets and overall limber acrobatic stealth and intelligence (Tech).
One could also say ARC Trooper strategy/possible mechanical limbs (Echo).
Do you think that means anything?
Is this operative an amalgamation of all of them? Is Clone Force 99 fighting...themselves? 🤔
Or IF it's Tech, he has just incorporated all of his experience and knowledge to become one single super soldier?
Has his DNA been enhanced by Hemlock who surely must have the CF99 genetic material/info leftover from the Kaminoans?
What about Omega? She's "part of the squad, too." If we get to a point where CX-2 realizes who he really is and that happens to be Tech - emotion/feeling (Omega).
PS: I know a lot of people associate that knife with Cody, But I think it's more associated with Hunter. *shrug*
#tbb spoilers#the bad batch spoilers#the bad batch season 3 speculation#cx-2#tech the bad batch#clone operative#clone x#star wars#the bad batch#food for thought#imperial tech
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Human Shield: Part 1
Since Wrecker can remember, he's put himself in harms way to protect his brothers. He always knew he'd be the one to execute plan 99.
When things start going wrong on a mission, Wrecker comes to understand that the day for that sacrifice has come
Or how Wrecker got his scar.
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Content warning: Self-sacrifice, thoughts about dying
Decided to post this in multiple parts, mainly because I wanted to share this bit already :)
Inspired by this post by @squad-724
Enjoy :)
Read on Ao3
The last few droids present panic at the alarm, leading to them being easier targets than usual. Even through his armor, Wrecker can tell the air is getting dangerously hot around them. They haven't got long. Thankfully, it isn't far to the exit.
When they were growing up, it didn't take long for Wrecker to be much bigger than his brothers. So, he started shielding them. It became one of his unspoken duties.
Wrecker tanks hits and draws fire whilst his brothers complete their objectives. It feels right, quickly becoming second nature. Wrecker knows that's why the Kaminoans made him this way.
As useful as his knowledge in weaponry and explosives is, that usefulness pales in comparison to his brothers abilities. He can arm and disarm bombs as fast as he likes, Tech's mind, Crosshair's sharpshooting and Hunter's senses are what get missions done.
But Wrecker can keep them alive. That's what his enhanced abilities are really about.
At some point during their cadet years, Tech started a digitalized and numerically ordered list of their plans. It grew along side them, some plans so obscure they'd never get to use them, some just added as a joke.
They all have favourites, plans they've been waiting to call for years. Wrecker has favourites too, mostly ones that allow him to show off his expertise in demolitions. But the one plan Wrecker considers his plan, the one he'll have to execute one day, is the one he likes least.
Plan 99, the plan to lay your own life down for your brothers, for the mission.
Wrecker always knew the day would come, and when it does, he'll be ready to do what he needs to do. For his brothers.
He has a bad feeling about the mission from the start. Something feels off. Hunter feels it too. He seems on edge.
Everything goes normally, well even, for most of the mission. But Wrecker stays alert. And it's a good thing he does.
The room where everything goes wrong houses a generator of some kind. Huge and powerful, large pressurized tanks fuelling it. They cross half the room fine, taking out droids as they go. But then a siren starts blaring, and the large machine makes unnerving noises.
It's overheating, going to explode. Wrecker's the first to understand what's happening, yelling for his brothers to run, get out of there as fast as possible. It's unclear weather the reason for the danger is a trap set for them, or a genuine malfunction. They don't have the time to consider that.
If those doors don't close, they're all dead. As fast as Wrecker and his vode can run, they'll never get far enough away from the explosion. With the door shut, there'd be a buffer between them. Wrecker internally curses the separatists for their bad safety measures, even if there's a high chance this was done on purpose. Wrecker tries the door once more, to the same result.
They clear the room, Wrecker slowing down to make sure his brothers get out. But when he goes to shut the heavy blast doors on the generator, something's wrong. It won't stay closed. It shuts, but then it hisses back open sluggishly.
The rest of his squad don't seem to have noticed, still running on.
It suddenly hits him that there's no way they're all leaving here alive, that this is the day Wrecker's been aware would come. This time when the two sides of the door slide closed, Wrecker grabs hold of them, pressing them together. His arms burn with the strain, but Wrecker pays the feeling no minds. It's not like he'll live to experience the consequences.
A strange calm washes over Wrecker. He's spent so long thinking about this day, about dying for his brothers, that the feeling's almost familiar. It's strange, thinking that he woke up that morning, not knowing he wouldn't live to see another.
He had plans, things he thought he'd do. They'd picked up some interesting fruit the day before and Wrecker was looking forward to trying them. He'd also promised Tech he'd help do maintenance on the Marauder. He'll have to manage without Wrecker, though he's sure Tech will do fine on his own.
Wrecker rests his helmet against the door. He can't tell if he's imagining it, or if he really can feel the heat from the other side through the metal. He briefly wonders what will kill him first, the explosion, or the ceiling's imminent collapse. Either way, he's going out with a bang. How in line with his personality and interests that is almost makes Wrecker laugh.
It's a stupid thought, but for a moment, Wrecker considers what will happen with the stuffed toys he's collected over the years. They take up a decent amount of storage space on the Marauder, so it would make sense for his vode to get rid of them. Wrecker hopes they keep Lula. His brothers made her, so she's special. She also doesn't take a lot of space.
“Where are you Wrecker?” Hunter's voice over the comm channel startles Wrecker. He sounds almost irritated. It dawns on Wrecker that he completely forgot to announce what he's doing.
“Plan 99. Finish the mission without me.” There's a slight tremor to Wrecker's voice thanks to the strain of forcing the door shut. He's entirely composed otherwise.
“What?” Crosshair hisses.
“What do you mean 'plan 99'?” Hunter asks, throwing Wrecker somewhat. He didn't think Hunter would forget a plan, he never has before.
“Self-sacrifice, remember?” Wrecker says, trying to remind his ori'vod.
“We know that Wrecker.” Tech says.
“You're not dying today, vod.” Hunter says. “Get your shebs over here, and that's an order.”
Wrecker laughs. “Can't do that, sarge. Door won't close, and if it doesn't, the fire'll just funnel though the corridor and kill us all.”
“Wrecker.” Hunter's tone is warning.
“I can hold them closed.” Wrecker says, sighing softly to himself. A metallic creak resonates behind the door. He's not got much longer, but his brothers will be safe. “It's what I'm made for.”
For a moment, Wrecker hears the commotion of his brothers talking over each other, then, it's all drowned out as the generator finally gives out. The explosion is deafening, unbearable heat enveloping Wrecker as the door warps and breaks under the pressure. Pain grips Wrecker's body like a vice, the world around him still impossibly loud as the building caves in.
Then, everything goes black and Wrecker is plunged into nothingness, thoughts of his brothers safety quieting any fear that threatened to rise in his chest in that final moment.
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