They/them please. I live in GMT. You can also call me Charlie if you want.
This sideblog is to stash all clone/clone content in one neat and orderly place! Explicit posts will be under the tag ‘18+’. Follows from @silverxsakura :)
(If you see the tip icon on a post it's because I use mobile and don't know how to turn the damned thing off on web)
Polite request: reblog writers’ fics. Even if it’s just one every so often. It’s free, please be nice to us.
The @sw-cloneship-zines team have worked tirelessly to put so many wonderful works together for all to enjoy, and preorders are now open until the end of April 2026.
If you want to read my piece—and of course gaze upon the stunning companion art by @robininthelabyrinth—head on over to nab it while it’s still here!
This 18+ zine has 139 Pages of Clone Shipping Content, 28 amazing contributors, and can come with amazing digital and physical merch!! Zine Profits will be donated to InsideOUT Kōaro.
With all purchases, you will receive an amazing digital clone dollmaker by @kyraltre, to create your clone OC! But we have an amazing array of physical merch if you upgrade your purchase!
Pre-Orders will be open until the end of April, 2026.
I am once again participating in Fandom Trumps Hate!! I'm very excited!
Have you ever thought, "Man, it sucks she's no longer writing for X fandom"? Or, "I wish she wrote this very niche and specific AU for this ship!". Do you want to do a good deed AND ALSO get a few thousand words of Characters Charactering? This is your chance!!!
What is Fandom Trumps Hate?
From their Tumblr @fandomtrumpshate: "FTH is an online auction of fanworks that generates donations to progressive nonprofits that are working to protect marginalized people. Over the course of the last 9 years we have raised over $430,000 for a range of amazing organizations."
Important dates:
Auctions run from 8:00AM EST, 3 March 2026, to 8:00PM EST, 7 March 2026.
What am I offering?
Marvel Comics: Matt Murdock/Frank Castle; Matt Murdock/Peter Parker; Peter Parker/Logan; Peter Parker/Felicia Hardy; Peter Parker/MJ Watson; Elektra Natchios/Natasha Romanova (Comics/616 versions except Frank)
DC Comics: Tim Drake/Jason Todd (Post-crisis/New 52)
Star Wars (Prequels/The Clone Wars): Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi; Commander Cody/Captain Rex; Commander Cody/Commander Fox
Length: 5k-10k.
Highest rating: E
More info about what I'm willing/not willing to write, how the bidding process works, and the organizations your donation would go to here: contributor page.
If you want to know the kind of fic I tend to write, you can check my AO3 Works page here.
The Secret Love Lives of Clones Zine will be opening for pre-orders soon. In the meantime, we want you to hear about our amazing contributors—
The zine features—
🌟 28 talented artists, writers, and contributors
🌟 Stories & art featuring both legends era clones & disney era clones
🌟 137 pages of clone shipping content
Our merch includes
🌟 a digital clone dollmaker
🌟 a pin, prints, keychain, washi tape, notepad, stickers, and bookmarks
The Secret Love Lives of Clones, a cloneshipping-centric zine, is in its final stages of development before it goes up for pre-orders. The zine features 28 fantastic authors and artists, and 44 works featuring ships from all eras of Star Wars the Clone Wars media.
Chapters: ½
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-6116 | Kix
Characters: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-6116 | Kix, CT-9902 | Tech
Additional Tags: Trans CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Disability, Chronic Pain, Medical Kink, Body Modification, Vaginal Fingering, installing a vagina like it’s windows 98, donna haraway cryin in the club rn, Past CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, Post-Bio Chip Arc (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon)
Summary:
Echo glares at him. “Tech got me a robot cunt, you fucking asshole.”
“I see.”
“He customised it.”
Kix raises his eyebrows. “Did he engrave your CT number on it?”
Apologies for the delay in getting this out, but one additional thing we thought would be fun to do for the event since there are 24 ships, would be to create a bingo card!
The goal of the bingo card is just to have a fun way to track participation in the event, and at the end of the year we will have little badges to award people who either get 5 in a row for the event, or a full black out. We will also have a badge for ANY participation in any ship, but different ones if you want to take advantage of the bingo card.
The way alternates are envisioned to work is that they are there for you to replace any one ship with. Say, for example, you do not want to create anything with Wolffe. You could replace Boost/Sinker/Wolffe with Cody/Mayday and Gregor/Wolffe could be replaced by Maze/Ordo (This one example, and not intended to reflect anything on Wolffe :3). For the sake of bingo, you can only use each alternate ship one time, but you can replace more than one ship on a 1:1 basis.
Chapters: 8/10
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/CT-7567 | Rex
Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement, canon-typical dehumanization, Kidnapping, Surveillance, Existential Crisis, but in a fun cool way, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Everything Else, CC-2224 | Cody/Anakin Skywalker - Freeform, (in the margins of anakin’s diary), Minor Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, (bug not a feature)
Summary:
“I’ll take it from here, thanks.” Cody takes the analgesic hypo from a sputtering Kix and steps up to Rex’s bed.
Rex has never actually been on this end of Cody’s after-action bollocking, but he’s heard enough of them to know there is no way to respond that will head him off early. He’ll bollock you til you wondered if it was possible to die of extended humiliation, and then he’d threaten sensitive and nonessential body parts and remind you that if you didn’t do your follow-up PT, he knows exactly where you sleep, trooper.
He assumes it’s more intimidating when a giant goose isn’t sitting on Cody’s shoulder.
❄️for Codex because I'm nothing if not predictable :p
Wintertime prompts
The fog is thick and inexplicably eerie. It hangs heavy in the air and moves gradually, invisibly. Shapes move in it. Buildings loom out into the street wherever it thins, and disappear again as they reach toward the ground.
It is somehow nothing like battlefield smog despite being, essentially, the same thing.
And it’s cold. Bone-chilling and permeating: inescapably cold.
Rex sits his watch out on the balcony of the building they’re using to house the command centre. It’s no skyscraper, but it is the tallest building around, stone built and spired and all of its colourful glass lain shattered into splinters around its perimeter.
Footsteps wander out onto the balcony, steady but unhurried. Cody hauls himself up onto the stone balustrade beside him.
“I don’t know how you expect to see anything coming without your bucket,” he says.
Rex snorts and taps the crown of his helmet sat at his feet, balanced on the edge. It’s set to alert.
“Already had a few false alarms. Still some wildlife left out there.”
Cody’s come outside in full armour. He doesn’t shiver, but Rex, without anything to cover his face or his ears, has to sniff to stem his running nose.
“I hate this kind of weather.”
“Yeah.”
The only reason Rex is without his helmet is because he wanted to bask in this spooky stillness. He doesn’t like it, because it’s a huge disadvantage, and if he hasn’t already mentioned—it’s kriffing cold, but he can appreciate the sense of being unsettled in such a raw, primal manner.
Cody doesn’t say it, but he definitely thinks he’s lost it.
Rex puts his bucket back on.
They sit there, staring out into nothing. Most brothers in the building are asleep, some monitoring frequencies, others eating or cleaning arms or playing cards to pass the time. Rex is certain that Cody has better things to be doing. More important things.
“The Generals will be back, soon,” is what he says instead.
It’s code for better make the most of it.
Cody sits on the balcony with Rex in the thick fog, thigh plate to thigh plate.
Hello! Maybe 🧶 : cozy and fox/rex for the prompts?
Wintertime prompts
Fox lets the needles clatter into his footlocker. Shoved into the back, beneath his polishing rags, behind his “loaned” HUD diagnostics kit. Long and lethal but entirely innocent; he just doesn’t want to have to answer any difficult questions.
The yarn is not pure and it’s not sustainable and it’s probably manufactured on Corellia and shipped however many thousand parsecs around the galaxy. It’s not all that soft, but nothing they’ve ever had is. Whatever. It was cheap. It’s all he can barter for. And it’s a deep, rich burgundy that reminds him of smoking embers and cadet uniforms and blood.
He isn’t even very good at making things. There are holes big enough to fit his fingers through from a dozen dropped stitches. The weave is a little uneven, the sleeves are on the skew, and the panels seem to get wider from shoulder to hip. The edge of the neck hole he made is rough; he doesn’t know how to make a collar.
It will do.
Rex is sitting in the underground tapcaf when Fox arrives, staring into space and ignoring the caf pot on the table. He was right—the jumper he wears now is fraying at every hem and thin and frumpy and even more holey than before. It looks well worn, worn out. Loved. Draughty. It’s even been singed.
Fox tosses the folded garment in his hand and it lands on Rex’s head, making him twitch and scowl and pull it down.
Fox admires how much he has improved since he first picked up a handcraft.
He can’t hide his smugness when Rex’s fingers run over the fresh yarn repetitively. Down each sleeve, across the back, along the hem, around the inside of the missing collar and into each cuff. Fox shoves his own hands in the pockets of a stolen civvie jacket, not bothering to pull down the mask over his mouth.
Rex’s hat is looking worse for wear. It looks like he picked it up off a street somewhere. Perhaps Christophsis. Maybe he can try to make one of those next.
“Thanks,” Rex tells him. He can’t hide his appreciation even if he doesn’t make eye contact. He’s clutching the fabric close even though Fox has no intention of taking it back. He probably doesn’t even realise he is.
