#clone fanfics

[freesia-writes]

OMFG!!! Congrats on the 500 sweetface!!! That's gotta feel amazing <3

For the prompt, could I possibly have #10 with Fives?

hehehe thanks so much friend! Heeeere you go! Also... these are getting LONGER... I'm concerned that by the time I get to #13 they're gonna be like 10k words, LOL. That being said, hopefully this is a delight! I never realized how nerve-wracking it could be to try to write for someone; you want it to be everything they ever dreamed of but you're a totally separate brain, with only one line to go off of! LOL. And it's so hard to end these! I want to write a whole novel off of each one. ;)

“You shouldn't be with him. You should be… with me." - Fives Word Count: 3.7k Content Warnings: None really Fives x GN!Reader with a boyfriend ;)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It was arrival day, and you were already dreading the agenda that lay ahead of you. Two separate squads and their Venator-class cruisers were scheduled for a quick turnover, requiring immediate service, detailed repairs, and thorough inspection before being ready to go as quickly as possible. Somehow it felt as though it had been happening more often lately, and you were starting to wonder how many of these damn cruisers there were. Your team was starting to chafe against the longer hours and constant pressure, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel -- a few days off, provided there were no unscheduled arrivals that would throw the whole thing out the window. 

The first cruiser docked with a whoosh, and the debarkation routine began. The previously-empty platform was suddenly swarming with mechanics, droids, shuttles, officers, and troopers, each headed in their own direction. Your boyfriend jostled your shoulder playfully as your crew headed for the ion engines, walking ahead of you to catch up with some other friends. You offered a feeble smile but weren’t quite sure what he was aiming for. Sometimes he treated you more like a “bro” than his girlfriend, except when he wanted… well… you know. But he had been kind and fun, taking you out to dinner and buying you things often, and while you could suggest quite a few ways you’d like to see things change, you didn’t want to be nit-picky. 

You cleared the thoughts from your head as you saw a herd of troopers exiting the ship, a blur of white and blue indicating that it was none other than the 501st. Your face curled into an inexplicable mix of a grimace and a grin, scanning the familiar helmets out of habit. There it was… the tiniest flash of red, in a downward triangle right in the middle… And just like that, it took you back to that night, memories flashing across your mind to the rhythm of your footsteps as you continued distractedly toward the work that lay ahead. 

Flashing lights, neon signs. Raucous voices, cheers, laughs. Good conversation, suggestive whispers, the effervescent warmth of liquor in your veins that fueled the anticipation of potential adventure and meaningless fun. The dark hair clenched between your fingers, the heavy breathing, the throes of passion and the gentle, intimate caresses afterward. That simple tattoo, a small 5, that you’d touched and kissed and fallen asleep against… 

“Watch it!” A sharp voice broke you out of the replay, and you stumbled sideways as a couple of grumpy pilots made their way past. You could hear laughter up ahead, as your boyfriend and two others watched your distracted mishap. Flipping an obscene gesture their way, you pulled your bag higher up on your shoulder and hurried to catch up. Today was not the day to be daydreaming and dawdling. 

What you didn’t see was the lone straggler behind the group of clones, now free of their helmets, exchanging quips and laughs as they headed toward their day of freedom. He shifted on his feet, holding his helmet at his hip, watching you scuttle toward the ship. His brow furrowed, a litany of expressions decorating his face, and he slowly turned to join his brothers, tearing his eyes from you and leaving them on the ground as he made his way to rest and refreshment.

The engines were a hot mess, requiring more than a few trips back to the supply station for some of the most abstract parts you’d ever heard of. What they were doing on this starship, you didn’t know, but they were definitely putting you through your paces when it came to maintaining it. You brushed the hair from your face, christening your forehead with grease, and smacked the maintenance panel shut with a huff. You were already late for lunch, and had skipped breakfast, and therefore were in an absolutely horrible mood. 

The mess hall was fairly empty, most having finished their meals and cleared out by now. Your boyfriend had waited for you, surprisingly, chatting with some crewmates and beckoning you over when he caught sight of you with your tray. You slid onto the bench next to him, accepting his sloppy kiss and side hug as he finished the story he was telling, and promptly began stuffing your face with the most unexciting ration bar you’d ever touched. Most of the exciting stuff in the food line had been gone already by the time you went through, including the apples, which were one of your favorite things, even though they seemed plain.

“Whoa, easy girl, they’re not gonna run out of food!” came his playful taunt, and you elbowed him in the ribs in response. You’d initially loved the witty banter between the two of you, but sometimes the jabs had an edge, or didn’t quite land, and you were beginning to tire of it. Your complaints had been brushed off as being “overly-sensitive” or “not being able to take a joke”, so you let it slide, but you didn’t appreciate it quite so much anymore. 

As the group of you headed back to the ship for hours of maintenance and inspection, a figure caught your eye on the side of the platform. A clone trooper, still in armor, was heading back toward the ship, scanning the herds of people bustling about their duties. You squinted, drawing closer, wondering why any of them would choose to be here when they had such little time off. Perhaps he’d forgotten something. But as you both approached the maintenance hatch, you saw the helmet clearly. 

“Fives?” you asked, feeling awkward and excited at the same time. After your [pretty darn awesome] little fling together, you had both enjoyed some conversations here and there, but it had been clear that there wasn’t really any future there… He was constantly being toted around the galaxy, and you… well, you were stuck here. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about it since, though… What it would be like if your lots in life were different. It had been a one-night stand, yes, but there had been substance in your discussion, intriguing glimmers of personality, and a depth, kindness, and intelligence that had really left an impression on you. “What are you doing here?” you continued, watching him turn toward you quickly at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh! Hi. I… I thought I left something on the ship,” he began, pulling his helmet off to reveal those rich brown eyes and sharp features. You began to form a question as to why it would be in the maintenance sector, but he continued quickly, “But while you’re here…” The couple of crew members with you, including your boyfriend, were lingering in the doorway as well, watching the interaction. “They’re doing a crew appreciation thing at 79s tonight, and I just didn’t know if you… all… knew about it. Free snacks and cheap drinks for mechanics and whatnot…” 

“That’s awesome,” you said warmly, catching his eye with your soft smile. “Thanks for telling us.” 

“Yeah! You… all… deserve it, with all your hard work. Anyway… Maybe we’ll see you there,” he said, eyes roving across the group before he retreated into the expressionless safety of his helmet. He gave you one last nod before turning to head out. You snuck a glance over your shoulder as your team climbed onto the ship, noticing his fist clenching and unclenching at his side as he walked. 

* * * 

“This is ridiculous,” your boyfriend muttered as you exited the taxi in front of 79s. 

“Hey. I never get to choose what we do. You said you’d be a good sport. Plus -- free food!” you said enticingly, feeling disproportionately enthused as the neon lights and bumping bass met your senses. 

“I know, but a clone bar? I don’t know… isn’t that kind of weird?” he whined, taking your hand begrudgingly as the two of you made your way in the door. 

“Why would it be weird?” you said, voice getting louder so he could hear you over the music. But you never heard his reply as the raucous noise of the bar took over. 

* * * 

“Okay, ‘free snacks’ may have been a bit of an overstatement,” you chuckled, a few drinks and three bags of salty crackers later. The two of you had come to an uneasy truce, settling to play cards and watch the various interactions going on around you. There had been a few arguments, some decent arm wrestling matches, and a general spirit of joviality that was infectious. Well, to you, at least. The music shifted to something right up your alley, and you rose to your feet, holding a hand out. Your boyfriend took it, with the tiniest of eye rolls, and followed you downstairs to the dance floor, making a quick swerve last minute to order two shots at the bar. You laughed, reaching a hand out, but he gulped one down, and then the other, to your shock and slight disappointment. 

“Alright, now I’m ready!” he said, grabbing your hand and dragging you back toward the dancers. It was an improvement to his mood, at least, though you’d be talking about the rudeness of the act later, for sure. The dance floor was particularly full tonight; a number of ships had reported back to Coruscant at once, making for a diverse and colorful crowd. That familiar warm, tingly feeling was flowing through your veins and you smiled, letting the music fill your mind and flow through your body. 

* * * 

“Yoo hoo!” came the taunting call as Jesse waved his hand in front of Fives’ face. “Did you seriously just drift off mid-sentence? Man, that clanker must have hit your head harder than we thought, eh Kix?” 

“That brain was damaged long before that,” Kix answered, running a hand over his closely-shaved hair and intricate skull tattoos. Jesse’s laughter was joined by Hardcase and Echo, who were reclining in the large booth with the rest of their brothers. 

“Sorry -- got distracted,” Fives muttered, shaking his head and looking back to his squad. The conversation continued, with quips and jabs, as well as heroic tales that expanded each time they were told, but he couldn’t stop glancing off to the side. Every so often, he caught a glimpse of you on the dance floor, appearing between the bodies all around you and then disappearing again into the crowd. There was a funny clenching feeling in his chest, as he remembered the scent of your hair, the darkness of your eyes, and the little gasp that had accompanied the way you moaned his name… Suddenly there was a funny feeling under his codpiece as well, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on whatever joke Hardcase was completely botching at the moment. 

The dance floor cleared a little bit, giving him an unobstructed view of you, though he wasn’t sure if it were an improvement or not. Your boyfriend had decided that now was as good a time as any to try to grind on your backside like an adolescent horn dog, and you kept trying to shift to a more natural and fun way of dancing together but he was persistent. And getting a bit gropey. Finally, you gave up, and Fives watched as you left the dance floor, stalking to the refresher in a huff. The boyfriend slumped over to the other end of the bar, toppling onto a stool and waving to the bartender. 

“Be right back,” Fives said, scooting out the side of the booth. “Refresher,” he muttered in response to the questioning glances, and was quickly forgotten as he edged down the packed hallway. He lurked awkwardly outside the doors for a few minutes, wishing he’d come up with a better plan, when you finally reappeared, sending a little jolt of energy down his spine. 

“You made it!” he said with a clearly forced brightness, startling you out of your rumination. 

“Yeah,” you answered, any joy at seeing him dulled by the disappointment of how it was all going. 

“You alright?” he asked, tilting his head with apparent concern on his face. The way the hair on his chin accentuated the expression was adorable, and his interest lifted your spirits a little.

“Sorry, yeah,” you answered, getting jostled to the side of the hallway as a group went past. “Long day at work, regular life troubles, you know. Nothing crazy like the stuff you have to face.” 

“Hm. From what I hear, getting shot at might be preferable to that sometimes,” Fives muttered, arching an eyebrow with a little sparkle in his eye. That got a genuine laugh out of you, which changed the whole mood of the interaction immediately. 

“What is TAKING you so long?” came a belligerent voice, as “boyfriend” came staggering up behind Fives. “This guy bothering you?” he asked, jabbing a thumb at Fives, who wrinkled his nose in disdain at the pathetic creature next to him. 

“No, we were just chatting,” you said quickly, noting the edge of the voice and the clumsy movements. He clearly didn’t recognize Fives, despite him having been the one to invite you here, a detail that was not lost on the clone, who gave you a look that couldn’t have been more plain -- really?

“Alright, well let’s go,” said the boyfriend, who wasn’t worth even giving a name, and he reached for your hand, giving it a sharp tug, which pulled you right across Fives, who found a sudden urge to grab you right back and tell this little womp rat to scurry off into a hole somewhere. You paused for a moment, turning back to face Fives, whose intense gaze made your heart skip a beat. 

“Thanks for thinking of us,” you said, giving one last smile before being whisked toward the door. 

* * * 

The next day was not going well. You hadn’t slept much at all, tossing and turning with all kinds of thoughts and considerations that kept you from any sort of real rest. The boyfriend seemed to be in a crappy state as well, rubbing his head and squinting at the bright light as he worked next to you. There was a distinct tension building between the two of you, and you knew it was going to come to a head. It would be good, because there were things that needed to be said and addressed and changed and dealt with, but you weren’t one to look forward to conflict. Neither was he, so the two of you puttered about your mechanical duties until it was about lunchtime, when you set your wrench down with the intention of getting to the mess hall on time for once. 

Alas, fate was not on your side. The walk between the shipyard and the cafeteria was just enough time to get into a huge fight with your boyfriend about last night, which ballooned to include topics like drinking, respect, joking, autonomy, and all sorts of other things. It was a hot mess, and while you tried to keep it civil, you were both tired, frustrated, and clearly triggered. By the time you got to the mess hall, it had reached the breaking point, and you turned to flee for solitude, tears streaming down your face, as he yelled criticisms after you, much to the surprise of quite a few onlookers. 

You found a supply closet, smashing your hand on the keypad so the door would whoosh closed behind you, silently cursing the fact that you couldn’t slam it. You threw an arm up against the wall, resting your forehead against it and burying your face in the cool grey metal, surrounded by shelves and the whirring fans of the ventilation ducts above your head. You wanted to cry, but now you couldn’t, which somehow made you feel even worse. There were so many emotions, it was impossible to sort them out. You were frustrated with the situation, angry at yourself for tolerating so much, confused why there couldn’t be a middle ground, and despair at the aching pain of yet another failed relationship. Or had it failed? You felt sick to your stomach at the thought that, knowing you, it might just get patched up and continued, with hopes that this time it would be different. Were you really so stupid? 

The door slid open, and you flattened against the wall, hoping that whoever it was would find their supplies and leave without even noticing you were there. But when it closed, and no footsteps were heard, you shifted slightly to peek over your shoulder to see if anyone had come in at all. To your surprise, a fully-armored clone stood just inside the door, ducking his head to peer through the many shelves that lined the walls, making the rather large closet feel incredibly small and claustrophobic. 

“Fives?” you said in disbelief, leaning out from the shelves you’d crammed yourself between.

He let a single curse word fly as he jumped to the side, knocking over a stand full of brooms and mops, sending them all clattering to the ground as he frantically tried to regain his footing. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling as though you’d already emptied yourself of all the crying and anger and pain. He stood tall, righting his crooked helmet, and cleared his throat, staring at you from within the helmet. 

“You scared the kriff out of me,” he said, modulated voice still sounding a bit shaky. 

“Sorry?” you answered, having no idea how to go about this conversation with all that had transpired. “Why are you coming in a supply closet?” 

“I heard you…” he said quietly, pulling his helmet off now and setting it on a shelf nearby. “I wanted to see if… if everything was alright.” His face was earnest, but there was a nervousness to his gaze and stance. 

“Ugh,” came your ashamed response at the spectacle you’d provided in the halls. “It’s fine. Or it will be. I don’t know. This isn’t really how I usually am…” Why were you explaining yourself to him? Perhaps it was because he was the first person to seem to truly listen to you and care about you in a while. Perhaps you felt a need to justify yourself. Or perhaps you were still just reeling from it all. 

“And how are you, usually?” he asked, taking a step closer and leaning against the shelf next to you. “You seemed quite a bit more lighthearted when we…” he drifted off, grasping his hands together. 

“It’s just been a long week,” you offered, shrugging it off.

“Are you happy?” he said suddenly, with a confidence that came out of nowhere. His chin lifted slightly as he regarded you. “I know we didn’t know each other very long, but in what time we did have together, it was clear that you are incredibly intelligent, witty, and fun. In more ways than one,” he added, hoping the insinuation would bring some levity. It did bring a tiny smirk to your face, as you wiped some leftover tears from one eye, thinking about the slightly adventurous escapade you’d enjoyed. But it was quickly overwhelmed by confusion at his words.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “Why does it matter to you?” 

“I… I didn’t just forget about you, you know,” he said, swallowing and pausing for a moment. “I figured you weren’t interested in anything else, and I was shipped off…” 

“And now you’re back to judge my choices?” you snapped, shocked at your own vehemence. Clearly, you’d been on your last straw… about six straws ago… He straightened in surprise, holding up his hands in surrender.

“No! I just…” he stopped again, lowering his hands slowly and taking a deep breath before speaking in a quiet, solid voice. 

“You shouldn’t be with him. You should be… with me.” 

His amber eyes were locked on yours, simultaneously intense and kind, confident and vulnerable. You were reeling at his words, mouth slightly open. You were sorry for your sharpness, sorry for your assumptions… And sorry for your choices as well. The way he put himself out there had a wildly disarming effect on you, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. How could he say something like that when you were clearly a mess?

He closed the space between you, slowly approaching with tentative caution, and lifted a hand to your face. His hands were rough yet gentle as he cupped your cheek, eyes growing larger as he took a shaky breath in. “I’m sorry, I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’ll respect your choices, always. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you, and seeing you here… seeing the way he treats you… I just… I had to say something.”

You searched for the right words to say, but could find none, instead closing your eyes and nestling into his warm hand. A single tear squeezed out and rolled down your cheek, falling to your shoulder in silence. He continued, voice softer now, “I know I don’t have anything to offer you… no stability, no future, nothing. But you deserve better than… that… at least… And I’d like to do my best… while I can.”

You lifted your hand to his, pressing into it as though you could communicate your overwhelming emotions through a single touch. A small smile curved the corner of your lips, and you felt a sudden freedom at the prospect stretching out before you. Opening your eyes, you felt as though your chest would explode as you saw his face, so close to yours, so earnest in his affection and admittance, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. Reaching your arms around his neck, you pulled him in, bringing your lips to his in a desperate, grateful, hopeful kiss. His sharp inhale was quickly followed by the warmth of his embrace as he wrapped you in his arms, pressing you against the shelf behind. When you finally came up for air, you leaned your forehead against his, a thousand questions held back by the simple savoring of the moment. 

“Fives,” you whispered, and his heart leapt at the way you said his name, “I’m a mess.” 

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he leaned in again, lips brushing yours as he answered, “Well I’d love it if you’d be my mess.” 

#star wars the clone wars #arc trooper fives #tcw fives #fives #clone trooper fives #fives x you #fives x reader #fives fanfic #fives fanfiction #fives lives #tcw fanfic #clone fanfiction #clone fanfic #clone fanfics #clone x reader #clone x you

[mearchy]

#mine is 295 pages somewhere around 5600 fics #and i’ve had that account for six or seven years #im about to tag the hell out of this for exposure sorry #i’m trying to get the widest sample size #the old guard #star wars #doctor who #polls #ao3 #fanfic #writeblr #the clone wars #the mandalorian #our flag means death #spn #supernatural #destiel #good omens #ineffable husbands #bbc sherlock #x men #cherik #immortal husbands #kaysanova #sequel trilogy #prequel trilogy #reylo #(can’t believe i used that tag. first time) #911 fox

[clonesuperiority]

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

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

#Commander Wolffe #Commander Cody #Captain Rex #cody #rex #Kix #wolffe #wolffe x reader #cody x reader #star wars #tbb #the bad batch #tbb season 3 #captain rex x reader #the bad batch season 3 #clone oc #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #rex x reader #echo x reader #fives x reader #star wars celebration #tcw #tbb x reader #clone wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fic

[ichimerapunk]

Plot Bunny: Danny Is A Clone but with a Twist

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

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

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

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

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

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

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc prompts #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc plot bunny #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc fanfic idea #danny is a clone #but so is Tim

[sentient-stove]

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad’s raised me fine.”

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

#fanfic #danny phantom #dc comics #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dani phantom #damian wayne #three teenagers in the corner of a gala hall they might undercover The Horrors #clone au

[cc3542taki]

Fanart for The Legend Of Liob written by @killbothtwins

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

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

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

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

#star wars fanart #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #fanart for fanfic #The Legend Of Liob #me shamelessly promoting one of my favourite fanfics #clone wars #digital art #stained glass style

[duckytree]

hamilton quote in 2023 again? yeah

now animated

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #luke skywalker #leia organa #darth vader #princess leia #clone wars #art #fanart #hamilton #comic #duckytree #not even a hug can fix this #sanity is held together by time travel fix it fanfics

[dixieconley]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Palpatine gets wrekt. (Fuck that guy.)

#sw clone wars #fanfic #sw fanfic #anakin skywalker #captain rex #arc trooper fives #inhibitor chips

[4ndeka]

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

#the fanfic takes place in the future on tatooine ben era #so its different from the above pic XD but its also very wholesome #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #star wars #clone wars #codywan #my art #READ MY FRIENDS FANFIC #U WONT REGRET HES A WORDSMITH

[xxsabitoxx]

Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted

Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer smut #kny smut #hantengu smut #demon slayer hantengu #hantengu #hantengu clones #demon slayer sekido #sekido x reader #sekido smut #sekido x y/n #kny sekido #sekido #kny karaku #karaku x reader #karaku smut #karaku x y/n #aizawa x y/n #aizawa smut #demon slayer aizetsu #kny aizetsu #aizetsu #kny urogi #demon slayer urogi #urogi smut

[freesia-writes]

For the celebration: 17 and Tup!! Thinking about that sweet soft boy today, I wanna hold him, I get so worried for him ;;; @fives-girlfriend

Oooooo baby. I was excited for this one!

#17 - "Don't ever do that again! You have no idea what it does to me…"

Tup x Reader (I think GN but correct me if I missed anything) Word Count: 3.6k Content Warnings: drinkin and kissin. Apparently all I write, LOL.

“Come on, Tup. It’ll be awesome!” Hardcase exclaimed, clapping him on the back with enough enthusiasm to nearly knock him off his bench. 

“Yeah, they’ve never done this at 79s before!” Fives added, and even Dogma nodded vigorously through his mouthful of food. 

“I know, it’s just…” Tup began, but Jesse’s arrival, accompanied with a loud “who’s ready to party tonight?!” drowned out the rest of his reply. 

It was the talk of the mess hall -- Sy Snootles was coming to perform at 79s, and she was bringing along an infamous troupe of Twi’lek dancers, supposedly heralded throughout the galaxy as some of the most luscious and lascivious one could encounter. The clones who were lucky enough to be on Coruscant were undoubtedly excited, as they were rarely considered deserving of such luxuries. A few squads were planning to attend, the 501st being one of them, as you had heard on your lunch break. 

You worked with them frequently when they were on world, providing armor improvements, repairs, and tune-ups beyond what they would do for regular inspections. You were part of a small team that scuttled from armory to armory, equipping troopers with updated devices and outfitting new squads. The 501st boys were some of your favorites, having enough personality among them for the entire GAR. One in particular had always held a soft spot in your heart, with his unassuming demeanor and quiet insight. You’d chatted with him often while going over various armor components, and the stories he’d shared about the horrors of Umbara had broken your heart for him. He’d formed strong bonds with his brothers, especially after enduring that nightmare, and you’d felt your affection growing as you saw him grow from a fresh little rookie to a skilled negotiator, brave soldier, and man of strong convictions. 

If you were honest, he’d grown on you a lot. You found yourself daydreaming, during slow hours, of slowly freeing his hair from its neat little bun, running your fingers through it, and tracing your lips across his cheek to the little teardrop tattoo beneath his eye. But you’d also become close friends, and you were fairly certain that was the extent of his perspective and feelings toward you. There was an intimacy and familiarity between you that had been established as he’d shared some of his most vulnerable moments and harrowing experiences while you’d listened quietly, patting his hand and offering empathetic platitudes that couldn’t begin to match the magnitude of what he had been through. At some point, it had grown into more than just fondness, you’d realized, and it resulted in a simmering attraction that burned in your chest whenever you saw him. 

So when you found him at the back of the cluster of troopers waiting for the lift after lunch, and he caught sight of you as you approached him from the side, it sent a little shiver of tingles down your spine at the small smile that curved across his face. 

“CT-5385,” you said quietly, giving him a solemn salute that earned you an eyeroll as he looped his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into a warm side hug. 

“Cut it out,” he commanded, dropping his arm as you filtered into the crowded lift. “You heard all the fuss about 79s tonight?” he asked, barely audible over the rest of the chatter in the small space. 

“I did. You going?” you asked, feeling a sudden whirlwind of mixed emotions at it. 

“I’m not really feeling it, but it doesn’t sound like I have a choice,” Tup answered, shrugging and tipping his head toward his fellow blue-striped 501st brothers. 

“I can call you in for an emergency armor upgrade if you’d like,” you offered, to which he chuckled and shook his head. 

“Why don’t you just come?” he asked, looking up at you with those large honey-brown eyes. “It would make it a lot more bearable, that’s for sure.”

Your heart skipped a beat, wondering if he did have feelings for you after all, or if it was just the simple statement of one enjoying the company of a friend. You couldn’t help but smile, though, and tried to angle your face away from the light as you felt your cheeks grow slightly warm as you wondered about his affections. 

“I will if you will,” you said, resuming your light and airy attitude as the lift doors whooshed open. 

“Game on,” he declared, giving you the cheesiest finger guns you’d ever seen, promptly cringing at it, shrugging, and pulling his helmet on as he trotted off after his squad. 

“It’s a date?” you whispered under your breath as he disappeared around the corner.

* * * 

79s was packed to the brim, and clusters of troopers spilled out onto the streets all around it. The atmosphere was infectiously exciting, as though the entire world were on pause and tonight was a chance to escape it all for a few hours. There were three times as many food carts as usual, as the local vendors were quick to pick up on any chance for some extra business, and the entire block seemed like a party in itself. You started to feel anxious and out of place, as this wasn’t usually your thing. It had been something you and Tup had bonded over from the start -- a preference for more quiet, intellectual, serene spaces as opposed to the vibrant party scenes that more of the troopers opted for. 

You adjusted your outfit, feeling slightly self-conscious as it was decidedly more fitted and flattering than your simple work jumpsuit. You realized you had never really seen Tup in a more informal setting, as your interactions were primarily in the mess hall, the armory, or the barracks. All the questions and doubts began to swirl in your mind, amplified by the booming music that assaulted you as soon as you pushed your way into 79s. Heading straight for the bar and downing a double shot of liquid courage before you even looked around, you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, returning the glass to the countertop and scanning the room for familiar faces.

“You’re off to an ambitious start,” came a smooth voice from behind you. “Lookin to stir up some trouble? Give those Twi’leks some competition?” You smirked, turning to face Fives, whose presence could be felt as much as heard. His boisterousness and joviality always brought a smile to your face, and you admired his ability to channel that even after his harrowing experiences at war. 

“Oh, you know me…” you said, shrugging as you felt the tingly burn down your throat, warming your chest. “Where are the rest of the boys?”

“Upstairs, for now. Lost a fight with the 212th for the table by the stage, but we’re plotting our revenge,” Fives said with a conspiratorial wink as he jerked his head toward the stairs, motioning you to come along. There was something different about tonight, whether it was the setting or the occasion or some strange alignment of the stars, and you just felt an apprehensive prickle down your spine, as though something were about to happen. You ordered another double shot, taking it with you as you trotted up the stairs after Fives. 

A couple whistles and hoots met you as you reached the top of the stairs, and you grinned bashfully as Hardcase and Jesse catcalled you while Fives announced your presence. It felt like being welcomed home, as cheesy as that sounded in your own head, with the kind familiarity and brotherly acceptance they always had for you. Hopefully not TOO brotherly… for all of them at least… Your eyes roved across their faces, finding the one that made your heart flutter. Tup was crushed in the corner of the booth, mercilessly squeezed between Hardcase and Dogma, arms pushed into his sides. You laughed at the sight of him, and he carefully arranged his features into sarcastic disdain when he met your eyes. 

“Our little armorer here thinks she can keep up with us,” Fives proclaimed, gesturing grandly toward you as you gave him a quizzical look, having promised no such thing. “So let’s show her a good time tonight, eh boys?” A cacophony of agreement, friendly taunts, and promises followed his words, and you shook your head, the elation of the moment sweeping you up, and downed the double shot in your hand in one gulp. 

“Ohhhhhhhh she ain’t messin around!!” Denal howled, slapping the table amid the cheers and squawks. 

“Alright, move out. I want to sit right THERE,” you demanded, pointing to the corner between Dogma and Tup, who were surprised by your sudden attention. Hardcase laughed, eternally ready to join in any sort of shenanigans and feeding off of your energy, and rose to his feet, pushing the rest of the clones right off the bench to make way for you to climb in. They filled back in, squeezing even more, and jostled each other for room until Kix toppled off the end and had to search for a chair instead. 

“Hey buddy,” you said to Tup, happily pressed against his side from shoulder to knee. His plastoid armor plates were carefully positioned to avoid digging an edge into your side, although as you snuggled in, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to slowly take each one off…

“You’re in rare form,” he noted, lifting an eyebrow at your effervescent attitude. “What was Fives on about?”

“That was all him,” you laughed, “But for some reason this just sounded really fun tonight. You excited about the dancers? Perhaps get yourself a special one?” Why were you baiting him like this? Your head felt a little bubbly, and the wild atmosphere was doing nothing to help it. Tup gave a low chuckle, dropping his eyes to the table, tracing his finger around a ring of condensation drops from his tall drink.

“Jesse threatened to buy me one, but I doubt he’ll go through with it. He’d rather spend the credits on drinks for the ladies…” 

“Well. You deserve a break. You can’t keep everything pent up inside all the time,” you affirmed, nodding confidently as you shifted to survey the rest of the crowd. Tup looked up at the side of your face, suddenly pensive and solemn, as though he yearned to speak. You felt his eyes on you and turned back curiously, eyebrows lifted and an inviting smile on your lips, but he just returned your grin with a small one of his own, shook his head a little, and followed your previous glance out to the crowd as the announcer began introducing the infamous guest stars. 

* * * 

The show seemed to go on forever, punctuated with breaks where the performers would come out and work the crowd… both literally and figuratively. The booth had emptied a bit, as the troopers scattered to the refresher, the bar, and other groups. You and Tup had been lost in conversation, heads leaned together, living through adventures and faraway thoughts, completely engrossed in each other’s company. The connection was absolutely vibrant, and you felt pulled to him more than ever before. The general raucousness of the bar got louder as the performers were making their way upstairs, scattering to dance and laugh with the clones there. You felt a sudden flare of passion, a mixture of jealousy, protectiveness, and the mounting pressure of all the feelings you had for this trooper that you’d been stifling for so long. 

Two of the dancers whirled over to the booth, purring their invitations. One slowly sat on the eager knees Jesse, who laughed and yelled, “For free?!” The other climbed onto the bench on all fours and began crawling toward Tup, who looked alarmed. In a rush of emotion, you scrambled to get up, banging your knee on the table incredibly hard as you suddenly threw yourself across Tup’s lap. As you straddled him, you turned and put a hand out toward the Twi’lek. 

“This one’s mine, honey!” you said, channeling all the sass you’d ever seen on the holovids. The performer laughed, waggling her finger at you and sidling back out of the booth, only to be quickly scooped up by a pilot trooper. You turned back to Tup, resting your hands on his shoulders and looking down at him now from your perch on his lap. He was sitting straight as an arrow, hands held up slightly out to the sides as if he didn’t know where to put them. Heat blossomed across your cheeks and throughout your chest, and you laughed, trying to seem lighthearted but also not wanting to move anytime soon.

“I’m just looking out for you,” you said teasingly, glancing over your shoulders in mock fright as though there were horrors lurking around every corner. As you came back to him, he let out a laugh that almost sounded forced, and you noticed his eyebrows were working overtime to conceal the cesspool of emotions that were funneling through his brain.

“Thank goodness,” he breathed, with another nervous chuckle, awkwardly lowering his hands to the outsides of your thighs and setting them down so precariously, you’d think you were made of glass. 

“Better make it convincing though,” you said, lifting your hands to his hair, where you gently pulled the band off of his ever-present man bun. His textured brown locks toppled down, holding their shape where they’d been twisted around each other day after day. It was comical, as it lay in messy tufts around his shoulders and one decidedly large bump in the middle, but it was also incredibly sexy, and you felt yourself literally salivating. You also felt a panic settle in all of a sudden, wondering if you were wildly crossing the line… Or perhaps you were getting a question answered that had been burning for a long time now. 

He lifted his chin, eyes fluttering shut for a full second as you slowly, painstakingly raked your fingers through his hair, now free of its tight constraint. Your hands continued across his skull, down the back of his neck, and then forward along each side of his jawline until they came together at his chin, where you finished by giving his nose a tiny boop. His eyes widened, realizing your face was within inches of his, and he suddenly shifted himself to the side, knocking you off balance and onto the bench. He scrambled out of the booth, catching one quick glimpse from Jesse, who had been oblivious to you two due to the undulating distraction in front of him.

You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, cringing so hard at the thought that you may have just ruined everything, and you flailed to get out of the booth after him. You caught sight of him disappearing out the balcony door (you didn’t know 79s had a balcony did ya? It does now!) just as it closed behind him. Pausing before following him out, you watched him lean on the railing, looking at the Coruscant underworld stretching out before him as his hair drifted across his eyes in the speeder-induced breeze. His expression was unreadable, and startled you in how foreign it looked. 

Taking a deep breath, you ventured outside, steeling yourself to try to patch things up. You pulled up next to the railing next to him and faced the city skyline, feeling too sheepish to meet him head-on. You fumbled for words, wringing your hands together in not-so-subtle anxiety. “I’m sorry…” you began.

“Don't ever do that again!,” he said suddenly, startling you into standing up straight and facing him fully. You were filled with regret, looking up at him apologetically and readying your explanations, until he continued speaking in a low growl that sent an electric shock through you. “You have no idea what it does to me…” he admitted, voice slightly hoarse at the end. He slowly stood from his lean over the railing, leaving one hand on it and turning toward you, the other hand pushing his hair out of his face. As your eyes found his, you were lost in the rich brown pools of emotion, accentuated by the wildly mess of his hair that made him look like an entirely different person. His hand clenched at his side, and he shifted his eyes off to the horizon again. 

“What does it do to you, Tup?” you asked quietly, and he closed his eyes at his name, soft on your lips, before slowly opening them and taking a step closer.The intensity of his gaze and the singular focus of his presence were electrifying, and you felt as though your insides were trembling. 

“It drives me crazy,” he whispered, some dark waves twisting across his forehead as the breeze ruffled past. He looked from eye to eye, taking in your face with an enamored stare as though he were seeing it for the first time. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I love our talks. I love getting to see you. I love your wit, your intelligence, your curiosity…” His confession had been coming out more confidently but hit an abrupt halt as his gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry if it ruins our friendship,” he said with a resigned tone, and your heart took a tentative leap in your chest as you processed his words, hoping they meant what you thought they did. 

Fueled by his vulnerability and absolutely irresistible look, you reached for him, slipping your hands around the back of his neck, one slightly roving up into the roots of his hair at the base of his neck, and pulled him gently toward you. His arms were around you in a flash, and after one last meaningful, searching glance that seemed to stretch out into eternity, he closed the distance and kissed you deeply. Your tiny gasp of delight was swallowed up by his mouth pressed against yours, muscles tightening around you, pulling you against his armor. His hair gently tickled your cheeks, and you savored the taste of his lips, the scent of his shampoo, and the electrifying excitement of being in his embrace. 

He pulled back, mouth falling open as though he couldn’t believe what had just happened, and stared at you in awe. You offered a sheepish smile, giddy at the sight of him so shocked and enthralled. He lowered his hands to take yours, shaking his head at the ground, still dumbfounded. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you admitted, and he jerked his head back up to you, mouth curving into an elated smile. “You’re my favorite, Tup. You’re brave and insightful and kind and complex… I think the world of you.” Each word you spoke seemed to inflate him more and more with an overjoyed enchantment that lit up his face in a way you hadn’t seen before. 

“I didn’t think people saw us as unique enough to be interested… for real…” he murmured, and you shook your head, surprised and sad that he’d have such a notion. You lifted a hand to his cheek, which sent his eyebrows up a little further, and touched your nose to his. 

“Well I do,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He eagerly reciprocated, pressing one hand against the small of your back and drawing the other up between your shoulder blades. His lips were so soft, yet firm and commanding, and his nose pressed into your cheek. There was more of a passion to it now, an intimacy and urgency that set off fireworks in your soul, and you dug your hands into his hair again, relishing the thick tufts between your fingers as you clenched it gently at the roots. A satisfied rumble came from his chest, and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss until you were seeing stars. When he finally let you go, you gasped in as much of the cold night air as you could as though it alone were tethering you to reality. He smiled, face inches away, glowing with wonder. 

“I think there might be more of those Twi’leks up here,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, and you laughed breathlessly. “Better make it convincing,” he murmured, turning to back you up against the side of the building, leaning in with a sudden confidence, and bringing his hands to your face. He was kissing you again, pressing against you all over, hands roving from cheek to shoulder to waist to hair. It felt as though a dam had broken, and so much that had been held at bay was crashing down in the most incredible, unbelievable way. You lifted your leg, wrapping it around him, and he immediately gripped it with a gloved hand, moving his armored thigh and hip into you for support and stability. Kissing your way down his neck as he rolled his head to the side, closing his eyes in blissful abandon, you gave the top of his turtleneck a little snap, sending both of you into a quiet giggle fit as you held yourselves together. Every inch yearned to be connected, and you slowly lowered your leg, nestling your head into his neck and shoulder, not daring to move lest you wake up from this dream. 

“I guess we did show you a decent time tonight, eh?” he whispered in your ear, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a warm, protective hug.

#clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #clone fanfiction #clone fanfics #clone fics #clone trooper tup #clone wars tup #tcw tup #tup #tup x reader #tup x you #x reader fanfic #tcw 501st #clone wars 501st #clone simp

[zylev-blog]

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.

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

“Of who?” Batman demanded.

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

“How did you escape?” Flash asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.

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

Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

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

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

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

“Like what?” Superman asked.

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

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

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

Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.

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

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

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

Superman looked pale. “I see.”

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

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

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

#dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp #Danny is a clone #green lantern #the flash #time travel #speed force

[r3ynah]

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

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

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

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

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dpdc #Oh no Bruce is stressing ohhhh nooo #Danny is just happy this new sibling of his isn't and alternate or a clone #Jazz is delighted

[whiskygoldwings]

The Tattooist

The first clone trooper client she tattoos is an act of remembrance.

The man stands forlorn and desperate in the reception area, his borrowed clothes fitting poorly on his slumped frame. His face is tight, like a man on the edge of screaming, holding it back by the skin of his teeth. She recognises this pain, and quickly ushers him into her workroom, calling for A'maa to take the front desk while she speaks to a client. He breaths slightly easier once they are no longer in public, and she gestures for him to sit on the well-worn sofa she reserves for guests.

“I haven't got many credits,” he admits straight up. “They don't exactly pay us. I just wanted to see what could be done for what I have.”

She nods and grabs a pad and stylus, settling herself into her armchair and crossing her legs. “Tell me what you want and how much you've got and I'll see what I can do.”

He swallows painfully, and reaches into his pocket. “I have exactly 134 credits,” he holds a handful of ingots, and she glances down before looking back at his face. “I looked you up; I know it's not much in terms of tattoos. It's just... It's all I could scrape together...” he stumbles over his words, embarassment curling his lips.

“And what you want?” She interrupts, halting his ashamed attempts at explaining himself.

He takes a deep breath, grimaces, then sighs. “My brother was killed in the last battle. His name was Star. The long-necks... The Kaminoans I mean, never let us mourn each other where they could see. But he's my brother. We were born of the same batch, he helped me when I struggled with the maths tests, we had each others backs... I have a million odd brothers, but he was mine...” He presses his thumb and forefinger into his tightly-shut eyes, choking back a sob. “I want to honour him forever. I want to carry him with me, in a way they can't take away from me.” At this he straightens, bringing his hand down to stare at her determinedly. “They can make us wash our armour off, take our possessions from us. They will have to flay my skin from me if they want to take this.”

She stares back, stylus against her lips, and feels a swell of righteous fury in her throat. She's always had a mild force-sensitivity. Not enough to make training her of any worth, but enough that she can get a feel of a person, enough she can get a taste of their emotions.

This is a proud, strong man. And he is not broken by the hardships he faces, as much as he should be.

She will honour his brother with him.

The design practically leaps from her stylus, as she coaxes little stories from him. Little tales of his brother. His name was Star, he tells her first, and she sketches the rough outlines of one. He named himself, the man tells her, not giving his own name. Named himself after the balls of fury in the universe that were always out of their reach of Kamino. He laughs quietly, painfully, as he tells her the first time they had snuck out on a rainless night, when there was a brief respite in the clouds of Kamino, and by chance, there was a meteor shower over head. They'd all been amazed, confused and delighted by the sight, their little squad of five. One of the trainers, a kind man named Kal, had chuckled and told them “That'll be a shooting star” when they ask him about the phenomena, and Star had whispered to him in their bunks that night that he had decided on his name.

“I used to call him a shooting Star when we were in sims,” the man admits, a crooked grin on his face. “He kicked me in the shin for it once. Think he actually kinda liked it though.”

She adds a trail of dust behind it.

“He was so proud of being an ARF,” the man whispers. “So proud when I was nominated for ARF training alone with him. I was never as good as him, but he always took me with him, wherever he went. When the Commander told us we were getting the training, he basically hugged him. The Commander just gave him a pat on the back and told him never to do it again or he'd demote him quick as sithspit” the man snorts. “He didn't mean it, but Star'd never moved so bloody quick back into a salute, I couldn't help laughing at him, the idiot.”

She tabs out and finds a reference for an ARF troopers helmet on the 'net, and draws the trail of star dust bursting out of it and curling round to meet with the star itself.

“Our battallion wears green. Mainly olive-green. The commander started it, reminds him of the General I suspect. We became Green Company.”

The dust trail gathers sprinkles of olive green, the Star limned in the colour. She hesitates for a moment, then asks. “What markings did he wear?”

The man startles; she'd been loath to bring him out of his memories, but she wants to make it accurate. Needs to make it accurate really. She can feel how important this piece is to the man, and she finds herself strongly opposed to disappointing him.

“He had two stars on the left hand side of his helmet, one within the other.” The man indicates a point on his crown, above his ear. “And his visor was lined in green. He had a stripe vertically down the right hand side, ending just under the visor itself. On his chest piece...”

She lets him continue detailing his armour, drawing another star in olive green within the big one, then delicately tipping the helmet to conceal where the star would have been on the left. She's good, but it would have been too small to depict without potentially bleeding into a solid line, and she doesn't want that to happen. Instead, she marks in the line on the right-hand side, and ensures the big star is representative of what she imagines was on the helmet.

He's trailed off, staring sightlessly at his hands in his lap. She doesn't want to shake him, suspects alarming a trained soldier out of his own mind would be a bad idea. Instead, she uncrosses her legs, and clears her throat lightly. He glances up at her, and she smiles and extends the pad to him.

“Is something like this what you had in mind?”

He blinks at her, than reaches over and takes the pad. She sees the moment when he takes in the image. His eyes widen, and a tear he's been holding back since well before he got here slides down his cheek. He presses his fist into his mouth, other hand shaking where it holds the pad and he nods, clenching his eyes shut. “y-yes... Oh yes...” He stammers, voice thick.

“Where would you like it?”

“Over my heart,” he whispers. “I will carry him always in my heart.”

She stands abruptly, making him jump slightly and reaches out for the pad. “Okay, shirt off and lie down on the bed for me please. I assume as a clone trooper you're routinely screened for any blood diseases?” He nods, standing up with a slightly dazed expression on his face. She nods back and turns away, beginning the ritual of preparing her inks. She's playing a game of avoidance now, knows she won't take this man's money, and if she can keep him from asking about it she may be able to get it finished before he finds out. She suspects he'd do the honourable thing and refuse to get the tattoo. It'll be harder for him to do if it's halfway done. And while normally she'd insist on a full disclosure form and signature, she gets the feeling having no hardcopy evidence of what is about to happen will be a very good idea. The pad will need reformatting after she's done, but she's been required to do that for other clients who want their body art to be completely untraceable, so she doesn't store anything of any import on it for long anyway. She hears the rustle of cloth behind her and smiles slightly to herself, pleased at a plan going well. “Would you tell me more about him please?”

The man takes a deep breath behind her, even as she hears the bed creak as he clambers onto it. “He was always good at slipping by unnoticed. It's how he kept us both out of trouble back in training...”

She finishes mixing up the colours she needs as he begins to tell her about their childhood, what little of it there was. Checks her machine and cleans the patch of skin above his heart as he laughs about a prank played on one of their batchmates. It warms her and chills her at the same time, realising how little they had, but what great things they made of what they did. She prints out the stencil and places it over his chest as he whispers about Star easing him through the tail end of a nightmare, checking quietly that he's happy with the position before pressing the needle to his skin. He breaths in through his nose once when she starts, and she glances up at him, but he smiles and continues on into a story about when they first met their Jedi, and how Star gushed about her afterwards. She sinks into the meditative process of stamping lines into being, bringing colour to life, all the while surrounded by the man's soft voice building a memorial to his brother in their room.

When it's finished, the man looks surprised. “I thought it would take longer than that?” He blinks at her, “And be more painful in all honesty.”

She grins, “You did your research well hon, I'm good at what I do.”

He laughs and sits up, wincing slightly as the skin stretches around the wound. She squirts cleaner onto a cloth and holds it towards his chest, pausing before touching the tattoo for him to give a nod of permission, then wipes carefully across it, removing excess ink and stencil gently. Looking it over critically, she's happy with what she's done, knows she's poured herself into this tattoo as well. The lines are clean and crisp, the colours deep and rich. The helmet tilts up to look at the star above it, the trail of stardust sweeping behind it and curling up to emerge from the opening of the helmet at the bottom. Olive green accents in the tail, the line over the right-hand side of the helmet and around the visor, and the outer and inner two stars. She nods to herself, and grins up at him. “Ready to see it?”

He swallows nervously, but nods. She feels her grin quirk into a proper smile, then holds out her hand to him. He looks at it for a second, then places his own in hers, and she helps pull him from the bed. She keeps hold of his hand as she guides him to the full length mirror just beside the couch, and gently pulls him to stand infront of it. The hand in hers trembles as he stares at his reflection, taking a moment on his own face to gather his courage, then looks down at his chest.

The noise that punches out of his lungs is almost animal, and she grips his hand tightly. He cries openly, other hand reaching up to hover just under the tattoo as he looks down at his own chest. It's several moments before he can say anything, and she stands next to him the whole time, holding his hand as he clenches onto hers. He cries and cries, grief finally allowed expression, as she gives him silent comfort in proximity. His first words are “thank you”, and she smiles at him, as he starts to collect himself and turns away from her to try and pull himself back together.

“I'll give you a few minutes to check it over and make sure you're happy before I bandage it up,” she murmers, and steps quietly out of the room, giving him privacy in his sorrow.

A'maa glances up at her as she steps out, raising an eyebrow. Strictly speaking, she wasn't supposed to be working today, and she hadn't considered that A'maa might have had to turn away one of her own clients when she committed to tattooing the man. But A'maa glances over at the door to her workroom and shakes her head. “Don't worry about it Elaah,” she whispers, “Whatever it was, it was clearly important.”

“Yes,” Elaah whispers back, walking over to cradle herself in A'maa's outstretched arm, seeking the comfort of her own found family. “Yes, it really was.”

It's a few more minutes before the man opens the door, glancing around the edge of it. She quickly cuts off her conversation with A'maa and smiles at him. “Ready to get bandaged up?”

He nods and smiles, face a little blotchy from the tears, though neither she nor A'maa say anything. She gives A'maa's shoulder a quick squeeze, then heads into the room, leaving the door ajar this time. The man stands infront of the mirror again, gazing down at his new ink, and she quickly grabs the bits she needs to finish off. He smiles at her as holds the fake skin bandage up to his chest, carefully sizing it up to fit nicely over the tattoo.

“How much do I owe you?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“Nothing hon, you paid me in stories.”

He protests immediately, as she suspected he would. “Too late hon!” she grins at him. “It's already on your skin and I'll throw your credits out onto the street after you if you try leaving them behind. Good luck winning this one!” She winks and pats him on the shoulder, turning away to grab his top and thrusting it into his abdomen. He grabs it and gapes at her, clearly not quite sure what to say, before straightening and flashing a sheepish grin at her.

“You planned this from the start didn't you?” He asks, pulling the top over his head and rolling his eyes as she throws him a cheeky wink and nods.

“I've got to give you something, this means so much to me... You have no idea...” He gulps and shakes his head, blinking fresh tears out of his eyes. “Tell you what, I'll make sure anyone else who might be thinking of getting some ink heads this way?”

She shrugs. “I'm not going to turn down customers, but you don't owe me anything. I just hope you think of Star whenever you see it.”

“I will,” he murmurs, a hand going to rest over where the tattoo sits over his heart. He glances up at her. “My name is Trix. I just... wanted you to know that.”

She smiles at him, and gently rests a hand over his own. “Thank you Trix.” she says, smiling up at him, “Thank you for everything you and your brothers do for us.”

He grasps her hand with his other one and squeezes it tightly for a moment, before turning around and walking out the shop.

#the clone wars #clone troopers #fanfic #fanfiction #feels #tattoos #tattoos as healing #star wars #oc characters #also posted to ao3 #CentrauGuardian

[clonemando]

Imagine: Fox has Force-given plot armor, basically nothing is able to kill him.

Palpatine tries to lightning him at point blank and it... Just doesn't work. Fox gives him a tired look and finishes his report.

Palpatine tries to chop him with his lightsabers but they just go out as soon as they get close to Fox and Fox sighs deeply and explains that he can't die. That when he was a cadet he saved a aiwha and it turned into some green force goddess chick who blessed him and ever since no one can harm him. He's jumped from the top of Tipoca city, sat at the bottom of Kamino's ocean, left a ship while in space and walked around outside. His brothers have taken to surprise attacking him for the hell of it. Nothing.

Palpatine grins thinking of how great this is having Fox as his servant after all and tries to activate Fox's chip.

Nothing.

Fox sighs again. The Republic is corrupt and even with basic immortality Fox can't just fix it so he just does his job. He's not going to be controlled or whatever. He'll see Palpatine with the usual report tomorrow.

From then on it's just Fox tiredly going about his day while Palpatine tries more and more creative different ways to try to kill him or make him obey him.

Palpatine completely blows off Anakin because he's so obsessed with Fox and Anakin gets all pissy over it and starts trying to kill Fox too.

Thorn and the rest of the Guard find it hilarious and encourage it even joining in sometimes.

Fox: *sitting in the middle of the flaming cafeteria sipping a cup of caff* This is fine.

#commander fox #crack fic idea #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #fanfic #sw tcw #clone troopers #palpatine #anakin skywalker #feel free to use this #just share with me so i can read it

[robotpussy]

#polls #personally i dont like it but thats only because i dont like fandom. the type of stuff that gets the most attention #in fandom usually just annoys me idk. how to explain it in a way that wont come off as me saying #fanfic or whatever is evil its just the fact that it just bombards alot of the conversations? #i prefer it when the thing i like has 10 fans and theyre all on one message board or forum #like for example mtvs downtown is getting popular but apart from annoying #'me and the mid nerd guy i copped by being weird and sexy' posts its not awful.... #but then smth like... clone high or smth i suddenly cant remember ppl just got so annoying abt that show?? #like i cant stand it i dont even bother watching it anymore plus its just weird to me now like i can't watch it regardless #im just rambling but personally i do not like it. like i dont want what i like to get a revival #i dont want anything new! i just want to enjoy the thing and move on 😭 #fandom seems to prioritize shipping and memes over evaluating or simply just enjoying something! #this goes for anything. music film tv books....