#NO CLONESHIPPING PLEASE

[sergeantgoggles]

Lemon Yellow - poly batch <3

Whew. Anon, you really know how to pick 'em.

3800+ words later....

Tags/TW: Polybatch, Emotionally Intelligent Wrecker, Poly Negotiations, Pre-Order 66, Body Dysmorphia, Slightly Graphic Depictions of Cybernetics and Skin, Depression, Trauma, Nightmares, Echo Crying, Mentions of Former Poly Torrent Company (Rex/Fives/Echo/Jesse/Kix/Hardcase/Tup/Dogma), Grief/Loss, Neurodivergent Tech, Implied Neurodivergent Hunter, Happy Ending on Pabu, 10 Years later, Gay Old Men, Canon Compliant Hand Loss for Crosshair, Tech was CX-2, Batcher and Teenage Omega

Lemon Yellow: How does the first kiss go? (+2 Bonus kisses)

“I saw you and Hunter the other night,” Echo mentioned casually as he handed Tech a spanner wrench. He watched as Tech give him a quick, unconcerned look and went about his business.

���We are in an established relationship,” he replied matter-of-factly, as though it should have been common knowledge that Echo could have simply looked up on the comm chatter.

Echo was new to Clone Force 99. It wasn’t his place to judge them for anything, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t also been in a relationship with another clone or experimented with one before. Still, he chose his next words carefully, afraid that he might know too much now.

“…I also saw him with Crosshair this morning.”

That did give Tech pause, and he sighed with a bit of exasperation. “Look, Echo, I do not know how to tell you this gently, so I will simply be upfront with you. The truth is that the four of us, Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and myself, are in a polyamorous relationship.”

Echo let the words sink in. He knew what they meant, and he knew sort of how it worked. Torrent Company worked similarly. There were obvious pairs, like himself and Fives, and Jesse and Kix, but they were sort of just, all together, the eight of them. So, the four members of the Bad Batch being in such a relationship wasn’t something that Echo was necessarily new to, but…

“You seem perplexed by this,” Tech teased lightly as he set the spanner wrench aside for now. “Perhaps if I explain—”

“No, no, that’s not it. I know what it is,” Echo defended. “I guess I just didn’t think that that sort of relationship was a clone thing.”

“As opposed to what?” Tech inquired with interest.

If nothing else, Tech was at least treating it delicately, if not forwardly. Echo appreciated that he didn’t try to sugarcoat it for him. He knew it was a little…weird…to explain to some people. Even some people in the GAR had a hard time wrapping their heads around it, so it was always more simple to tell people he was with Fives, instead of having six other boyfriends.

“My old squad…”

“The five hundred and first?”

“Yeah, Torrent Company specifically, we were…you know.”

Tech seemed to brighten at that, but why, Echo could only speculate. Maybe he was just happy that he didn’t have to keep sneaking around anymore, but to be honest, it sort of made Echo feel left out. For now, he swept the idea under the rug.

“I see. Do you miss that sort of dynamic?”

Echo pretended to think about it, but the reality was yeah, he really did. He hardly gave his remaining squad a chance to make him feel welcomed back, afraid of what they would think of him, maybe. Even he didn’t know some days, but he knew that this was where he needed to be, at least for now.

“Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss flopping onto a rack after hitting the showers and there would just be someone there to keep me company,” Echo sighed.

Tech had a curious look in his eyes as he adjusted his goggles. It was obvious that he was thinking hard about something from the way he nibbled on the pout of his bottom lip, and Echo couldn’t help the intrusive thought.

‘He’s so cute.’

With barely even a second to process the thought, Echo’s eyes flew open wide as Tech’s lips connected with his. Immediately, his cheeks darkened, but he settled quickly into the kiss. Tech’s lips were softer than he’d imagined they would be, not that he made a habit of imagining his lips, but sometimes…

Echo hadn’t expected it to go much further, but Tech’s fingers brushed his cheek, fleeting and soft, gloved hand coated in a sheen of grease from the Marauder catching on the stubble that had grown in. He sighed, giving in to feeling someone else’s lips for the first time since—

Fives. The first time since Fives.

Abruptly, Echo leaned away, eyes conflicted as he turned his gaze away from Tech’s imploring look.

“I…am sorry for assuming that you would—”

Echo quickly shook his head. “It’s not that. I liked it, a lot.”

It was as though Echo could feel the heat and hurt radiating from Tech’s stare, and he forced himself to look at him, even though all he really wanted in that moment was to forget the pain of Fives being gone and for Tech to kiss him again. “I’m sorry, Tech. I just…haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. It took me by surprise.”

Tech pondered his words, then, “did I misunderstand?”

This was getting complicated. “No, actually, I want to kiss you again, but I don’t know where the others stand, and I don’t want to come between anyone. That’s not how a polycule works.”

“Ah, I see,” Tech seemed to ease up a little after that and sat back to work on the ship again. “If that is your concern, then I will talk to the others. You are right, it should be discussed.”

Echo smiled and touched the greasy streak on his cheek fondly before he stood. Giddiness coursed through him, but he was also nervous about what was to come. All he could do was hope for the best. In the meantime, he needed to sort out his feelings about Fives, as well as those that remained in his previous situationship. There were a lot of factors to consider, but maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Besides, kissing Tech again would definitely be on the top of his list to do again as soon as possible.

.

“WHAT?”

“Stop that,” Tech scoffed and rolled his eyes. “This hardly warrants that kind of reaction.”

“You should have come to us first,” Hunter sighed, but he was far less condescending than Wrecker’s outburst had been.

“As if you’re actually bothered by it,” Crosshair quipped as he cleaned the barrel of his rifle. “You’ve been looking Echo up and down since he first stepped onto the Marauder.”

Tech looked between them with a smirk as Hunter’s cheeks lit up.

“WHAT?” Wrecker boomed again.

“Enough,” Crosshair drawled in his direction. “We’ve all thought about it. You’re just mad that Tech made the first move.”

“You’re not mad about it?” Hunter asked and kicked his legs up on Crosshair’s lap. There was a sneer on Crosshair’s lips that said he wanted to knock them off, but he didn’t, instead continuing to detail his weapon.

“No,” he answered, and his eyes flicked to Tech’s, “but I want to know what Echo tastes like.” The suggestive tone didn’t go unnoticed, and Tech appropriately blushed as Crosshair licked his lips. “Why kiss me when you could just go kiss him yourself?”

Setting his rifle aside, Crosshair hummed. “You’re right.”

He stood, now knocking Hunter’s feet off his lap with a smack, and he leaned over the pilot’s seat to steal a less heated kiss from Tech’s lips. “Good thinking, Ace.”

“Hey, that’s my nickname for him,” Hunter pouted.

Tech’s flush darkened further as he was fought over, but the argument died when Crosshair kissed Hunter on his way out of the cockpit.

.

“Heard you had a run in with Tech.”

Echo looked up from where he was swinging from the sling strung up by the gunner’s mount, setting his datapad aside. “If you mean he kissed me, yeah. Didn’t get him in trouble, did it?”

Crosshair chuckled and crossed his arms. “Not especially, but it took us by surprise.”

“Why’s that?” Echo inquired, eyes curious as he took in Crosshair’s relaxed posture.

“Well, Tech usually isn’t the type to make the first move, even with us,” he explained, and Echo could feel the heat starting to rise in his cheeks. “You must really wind him up.”

As Crosshair leaned into his space, Echo found himself shifting to meet him. “Only him? Or can I get a rise out of you, too?”

There was barely a beat between them before Crosshair ghosted his lips over Echo’s, and they were gone as fast as they came. Echo chased them, but Crosshair was quicker. “You sure you’re okay with this?” Crosshair asked, eyes darting over Echo’s parted lips.

Echo faltered and leaned back into his sling. Was he okay with this? He had told Tech that he needed space to think, but was that only an excuse to make him talk to the others? Sighing, Echo shook his head. It wasn’t fair to leave Crosshair hanging.

“Hn, so you do have some baggage,” the sniper stood, giving Echo some breathing room.

“I haven’t kissed anyone since my last squad,” Echo defended with a scowl.

Crosshair quirked an eyebrow. “You kissed Tech.”

“And I told him the same thing,” Echo shot back, “and he kissed me, for the record.”

This was getting nowhere fast, and Crosshair seemed to see the same thing. Quietly, he stepped back and crossed his arms again, effectively shielding himself from whatever feelings he was keeping locked away. Inwardly, Echo winced. He hadn’t meant to come off like he was rejecting him, or any of them, for that matter.

“Crosshair, I—”

“It’s fine,” he clipped coolly, “but don’t make a habit of kissing my partners if you can’t get yourself sorted.”

Echo bristled, but averted his eyes, staring a hole into the side of the ship. Maybe he hoped it would swallow him up and he wouldn’t have to confront his feelings yet. That sounded nice. He heard Crosshair’s footfalls and listened as they grew distance, disappearing once again into the cockpit, seemingly to tell the others about being turned down.

Frustrated, Echo slipped his legs up into his sling and turned onto his side, facing away from where the others were gathered. Maybe this had been a mistake after all. He should call Rex and rendezvous with him. At least Rex still wanted him, and Jesse and Kix were still there to keep him from running away with his thoughts.

Hardcase had sacrificed himself.

Dogma was arrested.

Tup had suffered and died from what was being reported as a ‘mental relapse.’

…Fives was shot and killed for knowing too much.

How was he supposed to just pretend like each and every loss didn’t feel like a gaping hole being scraped out of his chest?

.

“Echo…? Echo?”

A large hand shook his shoulder, startling him awake. The jolt as he sat up nearly tipped the sling, but a body beside him kept it from dumping him onto the durasteel floor.

“Wrecker?” Echo questioned, his own voice unrecognizable to him. He lifted his flesh hand to his cheek and frowned when he felt the dampness of hot tears on his fingers. Damn it. “Sorry,” he continued, shame coloring his features. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to cry in their sleep, though the nightmares were more common with shinies. He was usually better at hiding it, though. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Wrecker fidgeted but made no move to go back to his rack. Worry was etched into his scarred face, and Echo didn’t have the temperament to be gentle about it.

“I said don’t—”

“Yeah, I heard you,” Wrecker murmured, “but I don’t believe you.”

Echo huffed and curled his cybernetic knees up to his chest. It was weird to try and hug them close. Metal dug into his skin, and it was uncomfortable to try and lay his forehead on top of the joints. More tears pooled in his eyes. Damn the Techno Union for saving him. He should have been left to die, march on like the rest of the Dominoes, like most of his partners…

Not be held together by fused skin and whirring parts like the monster that he is.

The sob that left him was quiet, but he might as well have been screaming the way Wrecker wrapped his arms around him and softly quieted his wails. It was weird, the way he could feel the ports in his head sinking into Wrecker’s chest, how tenderly Wrecker’s thumb grazed the skin where his scomp was connected to. Weird, but Wrecker held him like it was the most normal thing in the galaxy.

“…You don’t have to,” Echo sniffed. “I know what I am.”

Wrecker frowned. “I don’t. What do you think you are?”

Echo could have actually screamed. “I’m a freak, Wrecker. I’m more droid than human. I shouldn’t even be alive.”

His words must have struck something deep, because Wrecker sat back enough to grip Echo’s chin and gently force their gazes to meet. There was a softness in his eyes that wasn’t pity, though there was a bit of that despite how much he’d tried to keep it at bay, but understanding and compassion. Their noses brushed, and Echo let him press their lips together, firm, but chaste, with no hidden motives, the kind of kiss that was reassuring and grounding. It was the kind of kiss that reminded Echo of Hardcase after a mission with heavy casualties, kissing all of them and remining them that they’re all okay, they all made it. It was the kind of kiss that Echo gave Tup when he got into it with Dogma, promising him that they would make up and things would be okay.

It was the kind of kiss that Fives gave him their first night in the five hundred and first barracks, after they were extracted from Rishi, when they didn’t have any answers, but they had one another, and that was enough.

“We all have scars,” Wrecker whispered against his lips. “Some are small and hidden, and sometimes they’re big and obvious, but it’s how you wear them that makes the difference. For what it’s worth, I think yours are beautiful.”

Echo gasped, lip trembling slightly. It was the only time someone looked at him and thought that what was left of him was beautiful. No, not what was left, what he was. Wrecker thought he was beautiful as he was, even with the inconvenience of being mostly machine. It felt…well, it felt really nice to be thought of that way, even if he didn’t see it. So, he said the only thing he could in response and kissed him again.

“Thank you.’

.

Stars hung in the black sky and the moons of Pantora were high in the sky when Echo heard someone emerge from the racks. Normally, he wouldn’t pay any mind to it. It was likely Tech pattering around because he couldn’t turn his brain off. So, he continued to stare out the window from the co-pilot’s seat. That seemed to be where he fit in the best, and he and Tech worked well together.

He wasn’t expecting the glide of a bare hand on the back of his neck, massaging gently. Turning his head, surprise caught his features. “Hunter?”

“I wanted to apologize about earlier,” the sergeant said and took up Tech’s seat. “We should have been open about the nature of our relationship, and Crosshair had no right to kick you out because he wanted some action.”

Echo sighed. He’d almost successfully forgotten why he hadn’t been asleep in his sling between Tech and Wrecker’s racks. Crosshair had exiled him to the cockpit if he didn’t want to join in…activities. To Echo’s credit, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to participate, but having group sex was a hell of a first time with a new body, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for all that yet. Instead of torturing himself by staying to watch, he’d voluntarily left. Had he really been gone that long?

Judging by the way Hunter’s hair was mussed and the vaguely dark marks on his neck, he was certain that if nothing else, Hunter had gotten to partake in some activities.

“It’s fine,” Echo told a half truth. It was, to an extent, but he wished he had been brave enough to join them.

Hunter nodded, wringing his hands together. A nervous thing, Echo noticed. He was like Tech in a way, needing something to occupy his hands most of the time. It wasn’t as severe as Tech’s compulsions, but it was enough to draw Echo’s attention. Carefully, Echo reached over and took on of Hunter’s hands in his own. Immediately, Hunter latched onto it, tracing the lines of his fingers, pressing lightly on his palm, no doubt feeling his heartbeat through his veins. It seemed to calm him, though, and Echo smiled.

“I…understand why you didn’t want to join,” Hunter started, “but you should know that your cybernetic parts don’t bother us, and that despite our own feelings, we respect that you still have feelings for your old squad.”

Echo’s eyes softened. They really had been talking about him, but it wasn’t in the way that he’d thought they were. Not that he thought they were those kinds of people, but he had been so down on himself…it was easier to put the blame on someone else than face himself.

“Most of my old squad is gone,” Echo said aloud, maybe for the first time since he’d boarded the Marauder, “and the ones that remain…well, two of them were already together when we formed the polycule.”

“So, you were left out,” Hunter finished.

“Not really,” Echo shook his head. “They wanted to try…but I’m not the same as I was then, and I didn’t give them the chance to know me as I am now.”

Hunter hummed, still lazily outlining Echo’s fingers as though he were committing the way they felt to memory. “What about us? Think we might have a shot?”

A beat of silence fell between them as Echo considered the question. Was that what he wanted, to be part of another polycule? He certainly hadn’t wanted to assume that they wanted him in that capacity, but the last few days have proved that, if anything, they were willing to try. All of the pieces were there, most of them already put together, all that was missing was the final piece.

Hunter lifted Echo’s hands to his lips and kissed it, careful and deliberate. “You don’t have to give us an answer right now, but the offer is on the table. All you have to do is take it.”

He stood, letting Echo retract his hand, and winked before returning to the rest of his squad, of his polycule, the polycule they all wanted Echo to be a part of. Echo watched his retreating back for a few seconds before he stood abruptly.

“Hunter?”

Yes, he wanted to be a part of this, of them. He wanted someone to love, and for someone to love him, and he was going to find it here, with the Bad Batch.

Hunter turned just as Echo closed the gap between them, kissing him with so much need and longing that it took Hunter’s breath away, and he backed himself up against the console to steady the both of them. Hot, open-mouthed kisses left Echo gasping, and his hand shook as he tangled his fingers into Hunter’s hair, pulling him closer, flush to the line of his body.

It was only the soft clearing of someone’s throat that forced them apart and left them panting for breath. Echo blushed a beautiful shade of red as Tech watched them sheepishly.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Hunter teased.

“That is a shame,” Tech said with a small, crooked smile. “I was rather enjoying the show.”

“Then you shouldn’t have interrupted,” Echo smirked as Tech crowded into his space. This time, Echo was ready and kissed him with as much passion as he had Hunter. Tech became weak at his knees, forcing Hunter to hold him up, and Echo quickly decided that he could get used to this.

It wasn’t the same as being with the five hundred and first, but Echo didn’t want it to be. He would always love his former squads, but this new one wasn’t half bad. He hoped they would be around for a long time.

.

 10 YEARS LATER

Waves crashed on the beach, shifting the sands below. Over time, Echo knew that this place would eventually change. Erosion would claim it, or nature would, but in this moment, it would always remain as it was.

Beside him, Crosshair sat amongst the grain. He didn’t complain about sand getting everywhere anymore, even when it got caught in his cybernetic hand. Next to him, Wrecker slept, head on Crosshair’s shoulder, not so much as budging when the waves licked his toes. Their hands were entwined, soft and familiar, and Crosshair idly stroked it with his thumb as he watched the sun begin its descent into the sea.

Out in the water, Tech watched the horizon as though he were looking for something. Echo could tell he was talking but couldn’t make out what he was saying over the waves. Hunter, though, hugged him from behind and nodded along to whatever Tech told him, and took every opportunity to kiss his cheek, his neck, anywhere he could reach. Never again would Hunter let Tech out of his sight, or go where he couldn’t follow, not after Eriadu and Tantiss.

It took them a long time, but finally, they were all where they were meant to be, together.

Something broke over the horizon, and Echo grinned as Tech waved to those who were waiting on the shore. Crosshair nudged Wrecker awake, but the way that Wrecker was on his feet and waving in an instant, no one would have ever known if not for the drool on his chin. As a ship sped into the cove nearby, Tech and Hunter trudged back through the water and waited patiently for the ship’s captain to emerge.

“Hey! I’m back!”

Omega waved as she ran across the beach to them, beaming proudly as Batcher trailed behind her. No longer did Echo have to kneel to be on her level, and she easily leapt into his arms, still not quite tall enough to keep her feet on the ground. Echo caught her easily and hugged her tightly. This was her first solo flight, to Lothal to bring supplies to a small rebel cell and back, and as far as he could tell, she had been successful. They had known that they couldn’t keep her out of the fight forever, even though they’d all wished they’d had a little more time with her. After all, Omega wasn’t just their sister, but their kid. They raised her.

“Welcome home, Havoc 5,” Echo murmured as he set her back onto her feet.

Omega smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. That…was new, not unwelcomed, but definitely new.

“It’s good to be home.”

[loverboy-havocboy]

hey.. people who read aliit au.. should comet get to fuck gregor with a strap yes or no

[rexsterss]

Flow Through My Veins

Summary:

“This house has a bunch of blankets though, why would we need more?” Ahsoka asked, perplexed. She took out one, letting her fingers run through the velvet feeling of its soft fur.

“Well,” Riyo leaned her hip against the counter, waving the plate of bird meat at her. “For you, of course.”

Ahsoka stared at her. Riyo stared back.

When it seemed no one was going to talk first, Ahsoka let out a confused, “Why?”

Riyo gave her a long look, as if she thought Ahsoka would take a piss on her.

Realisation started to seep in its cracks the longer this silence stretched out, and Riyo blinked at her in surprise. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

star wars. rebellion era. ahsoka centric. mating cycles. rated e (18+). 12.5k+ words

Posted for the More To Love (Star Wars edition): a smutty multi-partner fic challenge!

One of the ways to produce some amount of success when it came to whatever life they live now was to always, unfortunately, never expect too much.

A situation that required your hundred percent was the goal here — at least, this was what life usually would demand of them, when they live in a world where working less for the sake of their sanity was wrong, apparently. And if that didn’t work, salvaging whatever chance that still existed to, say, not get indiscriminately killed was one of the top things Ahsoka would try to achieve in this karking batshit of a galaxy.

This insane galaxy. This I-would-very-much-like-to-live-longer-despite-that-threat-over-there galaxy.

Such was the series of living a life where death constantly unlatched its maw above your head.

Riyo was starting to look at her funny. “Ahsoka?”

READ MORE ON AO3

[cloneshippingbigbang]

POSTING STARTS NOW!!

During the month of April, all creators who participated in the cloneshipping big bang 2022-23 event will post their works!

Check back here to see links, spotlights, and more for these wonderful creations!

Please remember to be kind to these creators and to comment and engage with their works! Happy April to all and no, this isn't an April Fools ;)

[sophronist]

after all these.....centuries.......(I started writing this last april f;flgbkhdjfgl) the sequel to this for @firewoodwander​ (sorry it took so long :crycat:)

[toadkillah]

[saturn-sends-hugs]

GOD why does tumblr make the filtered content button SO TEMPTING AGHHH 😭😭

[adhd-coyote]

No one reminded me but it's okay, I managed to remember. Propaganda time!

Most people know that Commander Gree is a nerd. You know how he picked his name? The Gree are an obscure race of tentacled alien that's rarely heard of. Gree's special interest is different alien races and cultures, so, he named himself in the hopes that, if anyone recognized the origin of his name, then he'd know they have the same special interest! Isn't he adorable??

Now, some of you may remember Jek from the first episode of the TCW (2008). He was part of the squad of Corries (with Thire and Rys) escorting Yoda. He's got a fondness for weapons- especially heavy ones. Not long after that mission, he returns to Kamino to train as a Scout. He works his way up the ranks until he's promoted to Captain, then sent out to the 41st under Commander Gree and General Unduli.

Okay, introductions over, I'm gonna put the ship propaganda under a cut

Mutual infodumping! Gree loves aliens, Jek loves weapons, let them infodump to each other about their respective special interests!

Jek was a Corrie, and I know how we all love our Corrie angst here. The combined homesickness and realization of just how shitty Coruscant was is a wonderful combination for angst

Gree helping Jek with the transition from the Guard to the frontlines. Introducing him to the Jedi and other COs, keeping him company when he can't sleep, filling the silence with random alien facts and bits of knowledge.

Jek has a tattoo (shown below) that is just made to be traced. You can't convince me otherwise. Just- Gree tracing his finger over that swirl in a steady rhythm. Makes Jek melt. It's a sure way to calm him down.

Gree is a redhead! Either he dyes his hair and his eyebrows, or it's natural. Personally, I believe it's natural, and that Jek frickin adores it.

Angst! Jek was the trooper with Gree during O66. Their chips were activated together, and they were killed together. You want a tragic lovers story? There you go.

Just look at these two. Look at them and tell me they aren't meant to be together.

I need to go to bed, but someone remind me to spread myCommander Gree/Captain Jek propaganda in the morning. Or anytime tomorrow, really.

[cloneshiprarepair]

2025 Ship Schedule

Based on the nominations and then the voting poll, here is the first lineup for the Cloneship Rare Pair event! This will run through 2025 with two "featured" ships a month, and a list of six alternate ships that may be subbed in for any month.

Please see the event pinned post on the blog for more information.

January: Alpha-17/Fox Cody/Echo/Fives/Rex

February Howzer/Rex Boost/Sinker/Wolffe

March Boss/Niner Crosshair/Hunter/Tech/Wrecker

April Bacara/Ponds Fox/Stone/Thire/Thorn

May Alpha-17/Echo/Fives Fireball/Wrecker

June Cody/Fox/Rex Glitch/Hevy

July Cutup/Droidbait/Echo/Fives/Hevy Gregor/Wolffe

August Crosshair/Echo/Hunter Alpha-17/Cody

September Fi/Ordo Dogma/Fives/Tup

October Fox(Commander)/Fox(Sgt) Cody/Crosshair

November Corr/Mereel Boba/Omega

December Sandwich Clone/Soup Clone Boil/Cody/Waxer

Alternates: Cody/Fox/Wolffe Cody/Mayday Jesse/Kix/Rex Bacara/Neyo Crosshair/Howzer/Mayday Maze/Ordo

[archivewriter1ont]

My Ao3 Masterlist: 🪧

(May 2024 -- present, constantly updated)

The Bad Batch: (Completed)

A Tale of Two Snarks: Echo and Crosshair

I Know Your Name as My Brother: Adopting Echo

Safe Place

You're an Idiot (But You're Ours)

Keeping the Watch (You Rescued Me)

Migraine

Learning This Life (An Ear for An Eye)

Tales of the Bad Batch: A Mixed Bag of Fun Detours, Ridiculous Banter, and Brotherly Fluff

First Word

I Hide It Away (Like the Scar on My Heart)

A Cyborg, A Bounty Hunter, and A Sniper Walk into a Bar...

A New Hope

Cheap Ammo (I'll Always Find You)

Extreme Measures

Puppy Eyes (And Little Brothers)

Count on You

Biting Back

Stronger Than My Storm

Pillow Fight

Ten Kliks

Big Brothers Punch First

We're Finally Home

The Trials of An Ori'vod

Blood Red

Reckless (Good Thing I’m Here To Save You)

Buried Alive

Nature Sucks

Stop Acting Like I'll Shatter

Painkiller Confessions

Five Times Echo's Brothers Fell Asleep On Him (And One Time He Fell Asleep On One of Them)

Five Times Hunter's Hair Got in the Way, and Two Times It Didn't

Long Story Short... (Cadet Batch Alternate Timeline)

Promises Kept (Hide and Seek)

The Bad Batch: (WIP)

Five Times The Bad Batch Protected Each Other and One Time They Didn't Have To

Echo and the Cadet Batch (Updated every Wednesday)

The Fault in Our Timelines

I've Watched Your Whole Life: Commander Cody and the Bad Batch

Uncle Echo: Family Fluff and Adventures on Pabu

Five Times Hunter Comforted His Brothers, and Three Times They Comforted Him

The Clone Wars (Completed)

Operation Shiny

Aspirations

A Little Bit of Hope

Modern Bad Batch AU (Completed)

The Christmas Sweater

Also, as a note bc I want to protect my boundaries and my work... please don't tag me in or reblog my posts with any cloneshipping stuff. I've recently seen this happen a few times, and NONE of my posts or fics are in any way supportive of that. I believe it is very clear that all the clones are SIBLINGS and have a general belief system that excludes that type of behavior. Thanks.

[five-oh-thirst]

In Your Head

Pairing: Fox/Thorn

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Tags & Warnings: 18+, character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.4k

Notes: So, this is a fic I wrote on my non-cloneshipping blog, and I repurposed it into a cloneship fic. All that I ask is that you please don't go looking for the original. I want to keep my two identities a secret. Thank you in advance 💙🫶💙

Read on AO3

Music Vibe:

Fox sat hunched over his desk and anxiously rapped his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He'd read the report five times now and each pass yielded the same results. His CC number was littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember any of it.

He looked up at the chronometer again and shook his head. Time had moved, but he hadn't. He'd been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report stated otherwise.

It wasn't just the strange lost time that concerned Fox either, or the fact that his CC number was in a report. That was normal. What bothered him about this report was the fact that it clearly stated in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone.

And no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't remember it. He hadn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp put the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox rapped his stylus faster and tapped his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he?

The Coruscant Guard had stunned countless rowdy reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even 'bad' clones deserved to explain their actions, but those were few and far between.

It must've been a mistake–a typo. There had to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number was in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he had this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not have been a mistake.

The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company–one of Rex's men. Fox had sent a simple comm message to Rex offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worried him. It wasn't like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox dropped the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaked when he leaned back. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and brushed the damp curls out of his eyes. It must have been a mistake. There was no other explanation.

He didn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must've been a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he didn't get the best sleep. His caf was cold, so obviously time had passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dinged and Fox leaned forward to see what the notification was for. He sighed and tapped on the icon to open it, and his brows furrowed as he read the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident was now available and had been attached to the report.

Fox huffed. This should clear up everything. He tapped the icon to play the recording and watched intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'd have a stern talking to later on… but it wasn't.

Fox's breath hitched and his eyes widened. That wasn't some random corrie. That was him. That was his armor. He had the fleeting thought that someone had stolen his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realized he was still wearing it. He hadn't taken it off since he put it on that morning.

Panic rose in his gut and he continued to watch the recording. He flinched at the moment he pulled the trigger–a blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explained why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea before the incident, Fox don't! stabbed him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an already egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed was ARC-5555–Fives–one of Rex's best men.

Fox only remembered the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other–because of him.

Fox had seen and read enough. It was him, he knew that much, but he still didn't remember being there. He didn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It was like he was sleepwalking, even though not a single clone out of millions had ever been noted to do so on record.

He found it even more odd that he was on-scene for the shooting and then left. It wasn't like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thought about it, he didn't even write this report. If he didn't, then who did?

Fox yelled in frustration and kicked the leg of his desk. Why couldn't he remember? How could he have forgotten he shot and killed a brother? How could he have forgotten Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he have forgotten leaving his office or coming back?

Fox felt sick. Not only had he killed a brother, but he also killed one of Rex's–a beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox didn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he did.

Fox pulled a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserted one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicked and he pulled it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clinked together as he searched for a specific one.

Finding it, he pulled it out of the drawer and placed it on his desk. He leaned down to grab a glass, hesitated, then closed the drawer without taking it. He twisted the cap off the bottle, grabbed the neck, and tilted the opening to his lips. It was time to forget even more.

"Fox?" Thorn whispered as he peered into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groaned in response. His torso rested on top of his desk and the side of his face lay on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighed and shook his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox said, his words slurred and his body twitched.

Thorn ignored Fox's inebriated order and pulled up a chair to sit opposite the desk. "Talk to me."

"Nothin'... to talk about."

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn said. He grabbed the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and set it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picked his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggled to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he spat, then laid his head back down on the desk so the room would stop spinning.

Thorn tapped his fingers against the desk surface next to Fox's head to get his attention and Fox flinched at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groaned, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox said as he slowly picked his head back up to look at his stupid boyfriend. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirked. "Part of my charm."

"Kark… ing… banthas… have more charm." Fox's head swayed as he tried to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolled his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asked. He reached for the bottle and Thorn leaned over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn said flatly.

Fox huffed. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn said with a shrug. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reached for the bottle again and Thorn moved it again. "I'm… not effective."

Thorn raised an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle. "Yeah, I can see that. You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox said, then reached for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asked, clearly annoyed at the silent game they were playing. He lifted the bottle out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirked through heavy-lidded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn placed the bottle back down onto the desk and pushed it towards Fox. Fox grabbed it, sat back in his chair, and shot the last burning drops down his throat, then slammed the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn said. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckled. "I don't know."

Thorn knitted his brow. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilted his head to the side and studied Fox for a moment. Even when drunk, Fox usually made some sense, but this particular time he was making zero sense. It wasn't that hard of a question, but his avoidance of answering it was making Thorn worry.

There was something Fox wasn't telling him and he needed to know what it was to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard wasn't going to get anyone anywhere fast. 

"Fox," Thorn prodded.

"Don't Fox me," Fox said. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn said. "Just tell me what happened."

Fox shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember shooting a vod?"

"Nope."

Thorn pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox said, his agitation grew at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounded his fists onto the desk, causing Thorn to flinch.

"Easy, cyare," Thorn soothed. He reached out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yelled. His body jerked weakly as he batted Thorn's hand away. "Is snot. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with Fox this drunk and worked up, so he decided to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he said before getting up from his chair. He looked down at Fox's dilapidated state, shook his head, then turned to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox said.

Thorn turned around and scoffed. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabbed the empty bottle and threw it towards Thorn, but it hit the wall by the door instead and shattered into a million pieces. "Shabuir."

Thorn sighed. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turned back towards the door and left Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbled and laid his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He wasn't truly angry at Thorn, as annoying as he was. No. He was angry at himself. Angry that he couldn't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he couldn't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain refused to put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where had his memory gone? Had it grown legs and walked away from him? Had it left him or did he leave it? Was that even possible?

Fox would stay lying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back was beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guessed. He needed to try and make it to his couch where he could stretch out and fall asleep.

At least while asleep, he wouldn't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then his beloved Thorn butted in and ruined it further.

Fox tried to peel himself off his desk, but his body was heavy. He managed to sit up, but then slumped back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groaned at the pain and rubbed the aching spot.

When he opened his eyes, the room was spinning, and it made him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckled to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hadn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox planted his hands squarely on his desk and rocked to push himself out of the chair. He tried once and couldn't get it. He tried twice and still couldn't get it. He tried thrice and finally, he was on his feet, although he used a little too much force and fell forward onto his desk. Maybe it was better if he crawled to the couch instead of walking there. He let the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he was sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leaned past the desk and turned his head to see where the couch was, but he leaned a little too far and slumped over onto the ground. He groaned. This was a terrible idea. He wished he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he had to make it on his own.

With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolled himself onto his stomach and crawled towards the couch. Usually, it was closer, but right now it felt klicks away. Maker, he was tired. Why did he put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why couldn't it come to him?

Someone should've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic was too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continued to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scooted closer. With one final push, he made it, but accidentally bumped his head against the leg. He cursed it again.

Now, it was just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he could finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial was causing him grief. Why was it so high up? Why was the floor so far down? Why wouldn't the room stop spinning?

He wished he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body was heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabbed one of the cushions, pulled himself up, and flopped onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolled off of his stomach and settled himself with his back against the back of the couch so he didn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, it didn't sound like such a bad idea.

He chuckled to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him if he left him like that. Only his boyfriend would find a way into the afterlife and kill him all over again for being such an idiot. Although, to Fox, it was a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if they tried to hide it from everyone, they were still a couple. Some days, when they fought, it didn't feel like it, but when push came to shove, there was no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together and falling in love, he figured.

Fox released a wide yawn that made his stomach churn, but he was happy that his body wanted to rest. With a few slow breaths, he let himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he would wake up and finally remember or if his memory would still be adrift.

Fox groaned as he stirred from his sleep. He slowly opened one eye and saw that it was still dark out, which meant either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He didn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle.

Even more surprising was the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also meant Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him–the idiot. He'd need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he saw him.

Fox carefully shifted to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounded from the hangover. He hadn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'd have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was.

Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looked around the room but frowned when he saw the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. He wouldn't buy another one of those anytime soon. Such a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoisted himself up off the couch and grabbed the arm to steady his shaky legs. He didn't feel woozy, but his body still felt heavy, like there were rocks in his head weighing him down.

He rolled his neck, then his shoulders, and then arched his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae made a popping sound and he groaned. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch sleeping was still not as nice as a bunk. He needed some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbled his way to the refresher connected to his office and was–once again–thankful for the amenities he had access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would've been embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself.

Thorn would've gotten a good laugh, though, the jerk. He would have said something stupid just to piss him off. But that was the game they chose to play because Fox had embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox stepped into the refresher without flipping the light switch on and twisted the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cupped the rushing water in his hands and splashed it onto his face. The cool water felt good on his hot skin and soothed his throbbing headache.

He splashed the water on his face a few more times and then used one last good splash to smooth over his unruly curls. He patted his face dry with the towel and stared at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection was… off.

Fox rubbed the towel across his face again, thinking he had some water stuck in his eyes that made his vision blurry, but the reflection still looked odd. He then used the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that didn't clear it either.

Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opened the mirror cabinet and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. He popped a few and swallowed them dry, wincing as he felt them go down his throat, and then closed the cabinet.

Hi Fox, a voice said.

Fox startled and stumbled back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" He turned his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he wasn't there. "Thorn?" he called, but there was no answer.

He peeked his head out of the refresher to see if there was anyone in his office, but it was still dark and empty. It was just him; he was alone. He'd never had a hangover that made him hear things before. At least not that he remembered. Fox's heart raced with adrenaline.

Fox, the voice said.

Fox flinched at the sound of his name and whipped his head around to try and find who was calling his name, but there was still no one there. "Thorn," Fox said with a warning tone. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you if–"

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice said.

Fox froze and his blood ran cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, yet he was still alone in the refresher. His instincts screamed at him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he was hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't have been hearing voices, or at least he didn't think he should've been hearing voices.

Fox closed his eyes took a couple deep breaths to calm himself and hoped that whatever it was would go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know, the voice said. Especially dead people.

Yup, he was crazy. He was one hundred percent certified crazy. Not only was he hearing voices, but he was hearing voices of the dead . What had he done while he was drunk and asleep? Conjured a demon? Summoned a spirit? Invited a deity to chat over some caf? The other option was that he was still plastered and hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sounded equally as insane, but did they make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox said. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the refresher door to leave, but it slid shut before he could exit. He stared at the closed door and took another deep breath, then released it slowly.

He slid his hands over his holsters, but the blasters were missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he never noticed. He mentally kicked himself for being so absentminded as to leave them on the couch, but in his defense, there weren't many who would attack him in his own office.

Fox ran his tongue across his teeth and puffed his chest out before turning around to face whatever was messing with him, but when he did, there was no one else in the refresher besides himself. He bit his lip and nodded his head.

It must've been a dream. He was living in a dream and he couldn't wake up. That had to be the answer. There was no other explanation. Once he woke up, he was going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this nuttiness wasn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting, the voice said impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox gritted his teeth and thought for a moment. If he answered the voice of the dead, was something bad going to happen to him? It wasn't like his life could get any worse. He was already a dog of the Republic, he'd shot and killed a brother, and he was probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There wasn't much else they could do to him.

Fox was startled at the sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… a clone he killed. Fox's heartbeat pounded ferociously in his ears.

He took a few steps towards the sink and peered into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came into the refresher that it didn't dawn on him to wonder what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right.

He stared at his reflection, and tilted his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studied the image, and then his eyes grew wide when he realized that the reflection hadn't followed the tilt of his head. He moved in closer.

Boo, the reflection said with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screamed and out of reflex, he punched the mirror, cracking it. He heaved in heavy breaths and pulled his fist out of the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighed and sidestepped into the part of the mirror that wasn't as broken. Really?

Fox was on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline took control of every muscle in his body. His reflection was talking to him. It was moving without him. But it wasn't even him. He could see that now.

Fox took a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor was white, like a shiny's, their head was shaven, and they had a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw dropped. It was him . It was the clone he'd shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asked, sounding bored.

"You're…" Fox tried to speak, but he still wasn't sure what he was actually seeing.

The name's Fives, the reflection said while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember since you killed me.

Fox was speechless and wide-eyed. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew who Fives was, but he still didn't remember shooting him. He never even met him, and the only images he had of him were in his ARC armor, not whatever he was wearing now.

Fox thought back to the recording that was attached to the report and remembered seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He had found it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox said as he backed away from the mirror. " You're not real! You're dead!"

The reflection snorted. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yelled, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touched the hard durasteel wall and he slid down it until he was sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asked. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulled his knees to his chest, clasped his hands over his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yelled again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving, the voice said. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox screamed. "Leave me alone!" His breathing became labored and he felt like he was going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox, the reflection chuckled, then pushed itself out of the mirror and folded its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next two rotations had Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror wasn't just a voice anymore. It was a full-body apparition that followed him around wherever he went. He couldn't even take a piss without that thing watching him.

He still wondered if it was the actual Fives or if it was just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he felt for killing the clone. He wanted to tell Thorn about it, but even he had limits on disbelief, and besides that, he was at some senate event so he hadn't seen him since he threw the bottle at him.

Hour after hour, the apparition asked Fox if he remembered killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still had the same answer–no. Maker, he wished it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it was just for a couple of minutes. He needed peace.

There was nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watched him from across the room with its cold, dark, dead eyes and smug expression. If this was the real Fives, then he didn't understand why Rex liked him so much. He was an annoying piece of work for sure.

However, the third rotation was strangely quiet. The apparition was nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox was taking the much-needed alone time to catch up on the reports he'd been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There was always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thought.

Fox looked up from his data-pad when he heard a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn said with a smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nodded. He was glad Thorn was back from the event, even if he didn't say it out loud.

Thorn walked into the office, placed the cup down in front of Fox, and sat leisurely on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabbed the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhaled its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorted. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name-calling."

Fox winced at the vague memory, then took a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"Your di'kut," Fox smirked.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asked as it appeared next to Fox.

Fox startled and accidentally dropped the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startled and jumped off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

Fox sighed. "Yeah. Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walked off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod, the apparition said as it watched Thorn with interest. Is he your cyare?

Fox chose to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know, the apparition continued. It hopped up onto the desk to sit in front of Fox, legs dangling over the edge. I had a cyare once–actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glared at the apparition and snarled. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckled. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reached out to touch Fox, but its hand went straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your cyare.

Fox continued to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition said. Thorn was more than just his boyfriend, but this was his issue to deal with, and he wasn't going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. 

Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation went a long way in his mind. He just needed Thorn to see it once, then he could feel safe again–feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asked with concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabbed the towel and patted himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn didn't look convinced, but he also didn't argue.

I'm not fine, the apparition said. I'm dead.

Fox wanted to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room made him wonder. He turned his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox said and tossed the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Never mind."

"Fox," Thorn said hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox, the apparition added. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue. Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaimed as he slammed his fists onto the desk. Thorn flinched and Fox bit his tongue and sighed. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still didn't look convinced, and he shook his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't, the apparition said. You shot me.

"Thanks," Fox said. His eye twitched. It was hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it was even harder when he had two people talking to him at once and only one of them was actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn said. He placed a firm but gentle hand on Fox's shoulder and squeezed. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too, the apparition said.

"I appreciate that," Fox said, trying to give him the best fake smile he could muster.

Thorn threw Fox another look of concern but turned and left his office all the same.

Fox immediately turned his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No, the apparition said. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox dropped his head onto his desk and yelled in frustration.

The apparition hopped off the desk and knelt so its face was on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispered. And I'll go away.

Fox clutched the side of his head with his hands. "I'm trying," he choked out. "But I can't remember."

It had been a week and Fox was on the verge of losing himself. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't do anything. The reports were piling up and questions were being asked. Thorn continued to pry, and he appreciated the thought, but he wished he'd just drop it.

Every time Thorn came into his office or snuggled into his arms in bed, the apparition stared at him like he was a piece of meat. Fox knew the apparition couldn't hurt Thorn, at least, that was what he'd been made to believe, but what if he was wrong? What if it could hurt Thorn?

He couldn't let it get Thorn. It could torment him all it wanted, it could even kill him if it wanted to, but he would not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn was too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hadn't killed any clones. He probably hadn't killed anyone.

There was no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It was Fox the apparition wanted. The clone's blood was on his hands, not Thorn's. Thorn had nothing to do with any of this and Fox would do anything to protect him. He would die for Thorn in a heartbeat.

Hi Fox, the apparition said while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox said with disdain from where he sat behind his desk.

The truth, the apparition said with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox said. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough, the apparition said as it pushed itself off the door frame and approached Fox's desk.

Fox stood up, his chair violently scraping across the floor. "I won't let you hurt Thorn."

What are you talking about? the apparition asked.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox yelled. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunted. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox clutched the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunted further. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!"

C'mon, Fox. The apparition walked closer. Just tell me.

Fox drew one of his blasters and pointed it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition said, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathed heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirked. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yelled, then fired a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watched as the apparition fell to its knees and clutched at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting–Thorn?

Fox panted as his senses began to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipated, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping the bleeding hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted his face as he looked at Fox.

No. This couldn't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he just shoot his lover? But it was the ghost! The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasped. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox had done hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened, tears brimming at the surface, and his voice quivered. "Thorn?"

Thorn collapsed forward onto the floor and Fox rushed to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambled as he rolled Thorn over and applied pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yelled. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears fell from Fox's eyes as he tried desperately to explain.

Thorn reached up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabbed it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn said weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand dropped as his body went limp and he breathed his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yelled, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, cyare." He pulled Thorn's lifeless body close to his chest and rocked him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appeared once again, crouched down in front of Fox, and looked apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shook its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looked at the apparition. He was still in shock.

Oh well, the apparition said with a smirk. A vod for a vod. At least you'll remember killing this one.

Tagging a few people who were interested: @brokenphoenix99

[coffeeandbatboys]

Screenshot from discord because I’m too weak to type it all out but this is what I found out last night.

Edit: please stop tagging this as Jessix/cloneship this is a cloneshippers DNI blog and I will block you if you tag it as such. I don’t care if you reblog, but please stop tagging this as a clone ship

[jangosboyz]

Welcome to the RP Blogs of the GAR

We'll be adding to this post as things change, but for now... Enjoy the RP blogs of the clone boys we've got so far! Rules and FAQs will be built up as we go, but for now, see below!

The 501st

Kix: @i-outrank-everyone

Jesse: @one-big-cog-piece

Tup: @tup-perware

Hardcase: @hardcase-ct-yolo

Dogma: @is-that-regulation

Hevy: @hevy-lifter

Echo: @idiot-tamer

Fives: @fives-but-a-10

Rex: @professional-tooka-herder

Commanders

Wolffe: @howl-like-u-mean-it

Fox: @a-1010-is-speaking

Thorn: @every-rose-has-one

Gregor: @its-capt-traitor-to-you

Hound: @massiff-daddy

Interaction Guidelines

Getting flirty/suggestive is cool, but please don’t get explicit with the boyz.

Muses on the dash, muns in the DMs. Pls don’t attempt to DM the boyz.

Feel free to tag us in fics, the muns love their muses and are thrilled to see new stories, but that doesn’t mean the boyz will respond…but they might 👀

Please feel free to tag us in art, so we can reblog it and show love to the artist.

Be polite in the ask box or you may get blocked. Thorn wields the Block Hammer just as well as his Z-6 😜

Please do not tag us in clonecest, incest, rexsoka, twincest, cloneshipping, or underage.