Clones Rights Don't Matter

do you see this shit my liege

Reblog if you think that men can wear dresses, trying to prove a point to my dad

Humans are weird: Their own worst enemy

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Taken from memoir of Levire Gaston

“When my people first made contact with humanity I must speak truthfully and admit I did not think much of them.

Their bodies were not but soft flesh and brittle bones and their egos were even more fragile. They were quick to anger, lacking in the nuances of conversation, and seemed to prefer the direct approach in all matters as if it was something to be proud of.

I had spoken out against allying ourselves with them as I saw little to gain from such an agreement but my government thought it would be better and aligned ourselves with the pink skins.

The day I went alongside them to war is one I still remember as clear as day after more than two centuries.

It is truly an astonishing sight to watch a professional human warrior go about their work. All their brashness, all their stubbornness, all their childish habits are turned off with the flick of a switch and they became the monsters the universe seems to now label them as.

Their efficiency was matched only by their ruthlessness as they laid waste to our enemies. I watched a platoon of them charge across open ground while under heavy fire with only one surviving to reach the other side; what’s more rather than retreat the soldier continued the mission and destroyed the enemy emplacement even as their life’s blood ran out of their wounds like rivers of anguish and pain.

I had expected the soldier to expire from their sustained damage or retreat back to the safety of the rear lines to recover, yet they merely bandaged themselves with a small medkit and cauterized their more severe wounds over a nearby flame before continuing on.

After the battle I sought out that human soldier and over time we became close friends. Despite the many wars we fought together over the years to come I had never saw them lose focus or cower in the face of overwhelming odds. Truly they were a beacon of what all who carry arms should strive to.

Even after we exited military service we remained close friends and we corresponded frequently with each other. On several occasions we even met each other’s families, our bond of brotherhood remaining strong as ever.

One year I remember inviting them to a hunting trip on my homeworld for a relaxing getaway. The forests of the Great Chasm were rich and vibrant with all manner of life and we collected many a trophy. Yet so fervent had we been in the hunt that we had lost track of time and found nightfall surrounding us while we still lay miles from the nearest vestiges of civilization.

My friend insisted they we hurry back and leave but I told him that these woods warped perspective at night and we would become lost in the branches. They continued to say if they dropped their trophies and just left now we could make it, but I merely laughed and began setting up camp for the night.

As night finally consumed us we sat around the fire and shared a drink from my personal container. They seemed to need it more that night as I noticed their eyes never seemed to rest on a single spot for long and when he stretched his back he was actually using it as an excuse to look behind him. Something was clearly bothering them, but when I asked they merely laughed and evaded the question.

We sat by the fire for two hours before I went to sleep while they continued to stoke the fire and keep their eyes focused on the darkness.

I’m not sure how long I was asleep for when I was woken by the sounds of gunfire. I threw my blanket off and raised my own weapon that had been by my side. What I saw as my eyes blinked into focus was something I had not witnessed in all my life.

My friend, survivor of a hundred battles and a dozen wars, was whimpering and sobbing like a new born babe while firing blindly into the night.

I called out to them and demanded to know what they were firing at but their response was mumbled and distorted.

“It’s out there.”

That was one of the few things I could understand from my friend.

“It’s out there and it wants me.”

When I tried to ask who was out there I heard a night comoko bird howl and my friend spun on their heels and fired wildly. I dove for cover as they continued firing erratically, chunks of wood and stone flying like a blizzard as the bullets tore through them.

I heard a distinct clicking sound and knew they had run out of ammunition. As soon as I heard the magazine being ejected I rolled out and tackled my friend to the ground.

“Get a hold of yourself!” I remember shouting over and over as they struggled in my grasp.

I got a glimpse of their face in the moon light and it was like nothing I had seen before.

There was nothing there but pure fear.

It smothered him so deeply in its embrace that they had lost all reason and logic and only wished to survive from this unseen horror.

When they reached for their knife I knew I had no choice and punched them square across the jaw so hard they blacked out till next morning.

They did not speak a word to me the next morning when they did wake up, nor on the trek back to where we had left our vehicle to return home. Only during the ride back did they speak of what happened, and then we swore never to speak of it again.

While I was nestled in the comfort of slumber my friend was awake in the dark, and in that dark place his mind began to wonder; their mind becoming ever more warped and strung with each passing minute.

Every creek of wood became an unseen voice, every rustle of leaves a growl of an unknown monster, every animal call in the night the herald of a nightmare coming to slay him.

I had hunted many years in those woods with my father and not once had I felt the things they described to me. I told them this and said that everything they heard was natural for the forest, but they just shook their head and sighed.

“The mind hears what it wants to hear.” They said to me.

After they left to return to their own family I did some research on what they said and found to my horror that they were not entirely wrong.

The human capacity for imagination was well known, but what was seemingly overlooked was that humans lacked the ability to turn it off. Their minds could jump from thought to though faster than they could even breathe and what had started as the whimpers of a small rodent had led to my friends mind believing it was hearing the cackles of a nightmarish creature from beyond.

Their very mind had created the fear that drove them to madness.“

We need like “unclench your jaw” posts but for eye strain. Like

Go look at something 20ft away for 20 seconds.

I am now in the dorms and am surprised at how well this came out. I already have an idea for the next few, so look out for those!

 the only criticism of millennials l accept

Looking back, the first sign that something's wrong was that the human had been gone for hours. There aren't many place to go on a spaceship, and yet Gyali was unable to find her.

Now xe spots the human, Alex, as she's hurrying down the long corridor with a brown paper box in hand and a huge smile on her face. Gyali long ago learned to be suspicious of that smile.

"What's in that box?" Xe steps in front of the human, glaring at said box.

Alex's grin widens, showing all teeth and making Gyali shudder. "Wouldn't you like to know." She coos at the object.

Gyali's scales flutter in confusion. "Yes, that's why I asked."

"Oh. It's just... Stuff."

If possible, Gyali's suspicion levels rise even higher. "What stuff?"

The human shrugs, the movement rattles whatever's inside the box, muffled sounds of scattering emerges from it. The human winces. "Sorry, sorry!" She hushes the box. "It's... Come, I'll show you."

Gyali reluctantly follows after the human. Xe doesn't really want to know, not really. But xe's the human's supervisor, so it's not like xe has any choice, does xe?

They hurry down the remainder of the corridor, the human silent as death, while Gyali's steps echo heavily around them despite xir small size. When they reach Alex's quarter, she lets Gyali in first, then firmly shuts the door. She carefully places the box on her desk, then beams down at Gyali.

"They must have been here since we ported at Earth."

The box opens, and Gyali jumps backwards with a screech. The human doesn't even flinch, the sound must have been over her hearing levels... From the box, two small, furry creatures look up with round, black eyes, both of them baring sets of small, but sharp looking teeth. The creatures are terrifying, yet the human watches them with such adoration, of course she does.

"They are mice." Alex says, as if that explains anything. "I haven't seen one in ages. They are harmless, don't worry."

Gyali continues to worry. "Where did you get them?"

"In the garbage cabin. I was just in time, the cat was hunting them, but I managed to catch them first!" She smiles proudly.

Gyali's scales slowly rise into a defensive position. Xe knows what a cat is. The humans' pet predators, vicious and deadly creatures, absolutely banned from all intergalactic ships.

"What cat." Xe squeezes out.

Alex freezes.

"Alex? What. Cat."

I had to do Anakin on Mustafar for the palette Volcano. It just had to be done.

Secret Clones AU

Short version: Secret Clones AU is the clones going into hiding in plain sight across the galaxy to force a fair wage and also to keep the babies safe from Kaminoans

The clones figure out the plan to take advantage of them, brain chips, etc. several years before the war hits. IDK how, maybe Jango decided to take a closer look with Mij and went Oh Shit. Doesn't matter. Point is, they caught on and decided that they needed to uhhhhh get Out.

There are millions of clones, yes, but there are tens of thousands of planets.

Once the chips are out and someone's jabbed them with anti-aging serum... they're not that different from standard humans.

And it's not exactly hard to tie up the Kaminoans long enough to get off planet.

So what happens is that a while, let's say a year and a half, before the war kicks off, you have a mass exodus from Kamino, and a wide dispersal of clones. They are generally staying together in groups of about half a dozen, claiming to be brothers, so that there's a 16-18-ish looking clone to take lead, with progressively younger cadets to look after. Each one has a commander they can 'report' to in case of emergency, and if something goes real bad, they can call in an Alpha (and Alphas can call in Jango in a worst case scenario).

It's still sort of a military structure, but... it's a phone tree.

And you have one of these groups of half a dozen clones in every major city. There are thousands of planets, and most of those planets have more than one city. Denon and Coruscant are nothing but city, so they can get counted as dozens of cities on their own. It's easy to disappear in places like that.

It's so easy for the clones, before anyone knows them, to just... disappear. Go into hiding in plain sight.

It's not like more than a handful of people know what to look for.

(It's not like they have a centralized record of who went where.)

(It's just the phone tree.)

They still get real excited-happy-eager when they run into a Jedi.

They want to work with Jedi. They're the good guys! And they're cool!

But your army did a mass desertion before the war started and finding/recruiting all of them is going to take a stupid amount of money. You cannot hire a bounty hunter for each and every clone.

And as @bytebun put it:

Somebody two years later: you look …familiar. Have we met? Clone: haha I get that a lot just one of those faces

AND THEY CAN GET AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE THE GALAXY IS HECKING MASSIVE

I think the Republic has to like… negotiate with Jango and the Alphas and set up paid contracts if they want these Ultra Skilled Warriors to fight for them.

The clones can fight. Some of them even want to fight. They are good at this and they recognize that many of the things that are occurring under Separatist invasion are Mega Bad.

But like. Pay them and treat them as citizens, first.

The Jedi are even more confused about this identical army that really loves them than they are in canon Where the heck did you guys come from Who trained you Why do you like us What the heck is going on

"Someone wanted us to be a trap for you but we took the trap out. Here we have a sample if you want. Anyway. We like you guys and want to fight with you because honestly civilian life is way understimulating. Let me punch a droid."

I think a few of the clones do 'scouting' where they voluntarily help a Jedi in the field to gather information on their validity as Friends. Cody keeps a number of spreadsheets that are just Various Jedi Encounters.

Rex does a scouting mission with Kenobi&Skywalker and just goes to Cody like "Listen. I know he's insane. But. I want that one."

Rex just "I call dibs" "Cody. Cody did you hear me. Dibs, I call dibs."

@catboydogma: stats for pong krell are all zeroes

Absolute shit tier Jedi They play rock paper scissors to decide who has to deal with him

A solid half of the clones don't get recruited because the lack of advanced aging (past a certain point) means they're physically still minors and My Dad (Alphas and CCs) Said No. They stay behind on their various planets to look after The Real Babies.

"Let me ask my dad" "Wait--" "He said no."

Just want these boys to have Civilian Lives they can return to or at least experience before war gets them all fucked up.

I think some of them try to Make Connections with influential people (whether politicians or like... Space Influencers) so they have people vouching for them once the war kicks off. And there can be at least some public pushback on functionally enslaving them.

"I can't believe you manipulated people into liking you! That's so mean!" "Well you see. I wanted to survive past the age of eleven. So."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIR MOSS!!!!!!! UR AN OLD MAN NOW!! i hope u have a fantastic wonderful day bc u deserve only the best :)) can i pls get. spectres / rebels modern au. with fluff :)

THANK YOU BELOVED

only a week late!! BUT. here!

-

"I've changed my mind," Kanan says. "Letting you get me into archery was the best decision I've ever made."

Hera snorts from behind him, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder and moving her hands down to his waist. She presses her hips closer to his and a kiss to his jaw, then starts correcting his posture.

"Elbow down, love." She taps it and Kanan moves down so it's level with his chin. "I am fully aware that you wanted me to do this in a sexy way, just so you know, but I'm too invested in making sure your form is good."

"You focus on my form, I'll focus on the horny," Kanan jokes, waggling his eyebrows in such an endearingly dumb fashion that Hera can't help but kiss him.

"Maybe if we both focus on your form you might actually hit something," Hera teases. Kanan gasps, faux offended, and proceeds to lament at how horribly his wife treats him.

"Such cruelty from such a pretty woman," he bemoans. "I can't believe you'd treat me like this. This is homophobia and racism and sexism. I have been hate-crimed."

Hera outright laughs at that, dropping her hold on Kanan so that she can double over and use her hands to try to muffle her laughter. "Racism," she giggles. "I'm from Haiti, you dumb fuck."

"And I'm Latino, what's your point?" Kanan shoots back, a grin on his face. "Racism, I tell you. You are conspiring to bully me over my terrible archery skills because I'm Latino and you're not."

"Bozhe moy," comes a tired, Russian voice. "They're at it again, Zeb."

Hera looks behind her, a wide smile on her face. Aleksandr Kallus, Zeb's mysterious Russian boyfriend whom Hera is fairly sure is ex-FSB, is walking over to them with a pistol at his waist, his ear defenders round his neck, and Zeb's arm round his hips. Ezra trails behind them, looking dejected.

Ezra was adopted when he was seven and Hera and Kanan were each twenty. He'd been a surly, snappish kid, traumatised by the deaths of his parents only a few months before his adoption. He could've been Kanan's kid by birth, with how similarly they act.

"First you don't let me shoot and then I have to see Mom and Dad being all gross?" The fourteen-year-old complains. "Sabine would let me have a gun."

"No she wouldn't," Aleksandr says firmly. "After lunch I will teach you the air rifle - will that make you feel better?"

Ezra whoops, doing a strange little dance Zeb had taught him the first time they'd met. He's never truly grown out of it - not that Hera cares, she actually really likes the fact that Ezra feels comfortable enough around them to express his happiness - and it makes Zeb smile.

"Don't point the arrow at your feet!" Aleksandr snaps at Kanan, who starts and lifts the bow back up. "If you shoot your foot then you will have problems walking for a very long time."

"Bloody KGB," Kanan teases. He slowly relaxes the bow and takes the arrow out of the nock, putting it back into Hera's quiver.

"That's racist," Aleksandr says, folding his arms and looking at Kanan with an unflinching expression. Kanan stares back, baffled, and Aleksandr's eyebrow twitches from the effort he goes through to hold in his laughter.

Hera watches it click in Kanan's head; he yelps, smacking Aleksandr with his bow. "You are the only white person here!" Kanan retorts, laughing. "This has got to be the most ethnically diverse family in existence!"

And because Hera loves riling him up: "Technically Aleksandr adds to the diversity of the group, love."

Kanan groans.

-

send a (belated) birthday writing prompt?