Why Did You Do It? ⚠️❓👁️

Can he do that?

tcw/bb fandom i promise i haven't abandoned you but the book of bill came out right before i went on vacation soz

BUT

i have a 5 hour flight on tuesday. so i'm gonna hope and pray i can come up with an echo snippet for yall 🕺

ahsoka. my og blorbo. my bbdoll. my sweet pea. my angel.

mayhaps i have to do one for plo now

(x) click me!

hello there

CLONE EDITION

moving has been very stressful for me so pls enjoy these as i rip fistfuls of hair out of my head because previous tenants dont know how to take care of a beautiful 1920s home

HALLO :D

i do apologize that i didn't have a snippet out like i wanted but, compromise, here's the whole damn thing. i also switched some stuff around in ch2 for continuity reasons :3

i got very very busy with prepping for an art faire (if anyone knows where to get cheap high quality prints let a mf know PLSSS) and i was muy busy. but we're back. and echo's a sweet dork.

mando'a translations!

ke'pare - wait/hold on

ge'tal - red

vor'e - thanks

udesii - chill out/its okay

gender neutral pronouns, no y/n usage, only main descriptor im sticking to about the reader is that you're ginger. cus i am. sorry nerds.

-immediately follows the events of the preceding chapter-

You were fighting back a smile. You had no idea that some of the clones knew Mando’a, let alone that the Mandolorian-adoptee turned clone-donor Jango Fett was taught during his short time on your home planet. You wondered if it was something the Kaminoans decided or if they all went about teaching themselves in Jango’s honor. The idea of a bunch of clone soldiers sitting around a Mando’a children’s dictionary makes the smile stitching onto your face that much harder to fight.

“I’m sorry about Tech. He can be, ah, a lot.” Echo grimaced while swiveling around the copilot’s seat, presenting it to you.

You obliged, and sat down. “Oh he’s fine. There’s plenty of topics I could infodump about, just as annoyingly. I just have a bad habit of my thoughts becoming verbal.” You shook your head, soft auburn tresses flicking about. The lights from the cockpit glinted around the natural highlights of your hair, and it didn’t escape Echo’s gaze.

The man cleared his throat. “Still, I appreciate you being so accommodating of my brothers. Nat-borns don’t seem to get it, you know?”

You furrowed your brow and cocked your head slightly to the left, looking him in the eyes. While he didn’t physically shudder, you could see the slight panic pulse in his iris when you met his gaze.

“Where do you think clones get their camaraderie and brotherhood from?”

Echo shrugged. “Kaminoans, I presume?”

You barked a laugh. “Well, yes. Ke’pare, what did they tell you guys about Mandalore?”

“Not much. Jango was around for the first few years, but I rarely saw him. He didn’t seem to hold much emotion for the regs. He seemed to like the higher ups, but I didn’t become an ARC Trooper until I was shipped off that wet rock.” Echo finally slumped into his chair opposing you. As he spoke, he slowly relaxed into his seat, his hinges quietly scraping together as he moved. Once again his amber eyes met yours, a new twinkle seeming to arrive.

“You know more than you let on, ge’tal.” Echo said, narrowing his gaze.

He seemed to be sizing you up. Trying to parse out his next line of questioning. Truthfully, you were better at it than him. While his observation skills have been battle-tested, the ease in which you peppered questions at him showed years of practice he was simply unable to acquire. Outside of the occasional conversation at 79’s or a senator he was required to escort, Echo’s entire social sphere only extends to his brothers. You made him nervous. In a very good way.

You blushed at the newly acquired nickname. “I prefer to call it ‘not showing my full hand’, but I’ll slide a few cards your way since you seem cute.”

The back of Echo’s neck started to bloom a soft red. He rubbed a palm on his knee, mindlessly self soothing. “Seem? What, the gray skin and hollow cheeks not working their magic?” He joked, gesturing to each feature respectively with a pointed index finger.

“You seem to deflect compliments because you can’t believe them, so I was starting small.” You extended your own index finger and poked at his shoulder, annunciating the seem.

The now-scarlet tint of Echo’s neck began to creep towards his face. Eyes darting towards the floor, he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He pressed his lips together for a moment. The only thing he got out was a weak “Vor’e.”

“Udesii. I came here, didn’t I?” Your face softened. Echo’s almost immediate vulnerability around you made your knees feel like jelly, and you were sending a silent prayer somewhere that you were both sitting down. “You’re not gonna scare me off, but you can’t immediately go cracking jokes just ‘cus I said you’re handsome.” You continued. Soft, yet firm. You weren’t allowing Echo to talk poorly of himself, even in jest.

Echo nodded, meeting your gaze once more. He looked off for a moment, seemingly in thought, before returning your gaze and asking softly: “How do you always know what to say?”

You let out one quick heh. “Since I found someone to give the words to.” You reply cheekily.

Echo smiled once more and dipped his head. “Walked into that one huh?”

You both smiled, and a comfortable silence began to envelope the two of you. Both of you were looking out on the horizon. The sky was a deep pink and purple haze, stippled with the indigo hues of the impending twilight. Echo was scanning the distance, as if anything alive would be out there, let alone a threat. You were content watching the 2 ½ clouds in the sky move millimeters at a time, but something told you to look at your companion. Gazing at him, your eyes slowly roved up his face. His jaw was set in a defined line, lightly gritted in concentration. His cheeks were hollow, but his cheekbones sat quite prominently, catching the light. This, juxtaposed with his deep set eyes, allowed the light to dance right at the forefront of his face. As if a candle was eye level with him, across the room.

“See anything cool?” You finally speak, hoping Echo didn’t catch you staring.

“Nah, perimeter check. I’m sure all I’ll see is bones and dirt but, old habits die hard.” He replied, not looking away. After a beat, he nodded, and seemingly relaxed the scrutinous gaze he had moments ago.

“Huh. So, what makes your squad different from the other clones, other than haircuts, tattoos, and builds?” You change the subject.

“Being experimental meant the Kaminoans could enhance certain characteristics. Wrecker’s strength, Tech’s smarts, Crosshair’s accuracy, and Hunter’s senses.” Echo spun his chair to face you and threw one leg over the other.

“Huh.” You think for a moment before replying. “So you think Hunter heard us approach?”

Echo nodded. “And I’m willing to bet he’s going to call me a serf for the next 3 rotations.”

You barked out a laugh before realizing his implication. A hand shot over your mouth and your eyes grew wide.

The man laughed. “Just be glad he’s not close enough to hear your heartbeat.”

“What CAN’T he hear?” You said, mildly exasperated. “How do you get any privacy?”

“He’s got noise canceling headphones but that’s mainly for his own sanity. Wrecker got them for him after his snoring kept him up for 3 days in a row.” You laughed at that, and Echo felt a twinge of pride before continuing. “He showed up in the cockpit one morning with his bandana over his nose and Omega had to ask him about his new fashion choices.”

You let out a series of giggles at that, holding your stomach slightly as you lean forward into it. If your eyes weren’t scrunched shut, you would’ve seen Echo’s face bloom in 4 different shades of pink. Every single part of him was committing this to memory. The way your eyes crinkled at the sides. The way your cheeks almost wanted to push your eyes out of their sockets. He never wanted this to end, the sounds of your joy echoing across the hold of the Marauder.

——————

Hours had passed, the sun well below the horizon by this hour. The sky was peppered with numerous constellations and star systems, the names of which always seeming to escape you. The deep blue sea of sky felt more vast than ever in your little perch aboard the Marauder.

You and Echo went back and forth, sharing tidbits from your respective lives up until this point. You learned about the Rishi Moon incident that gave Echo his ARC status, he learned about the Siege that gave way to your arrival here. He told you about the Domino Squad, you told him about your own clan’s untimely demise. Hours of stories shared back and forth, as if you were both once stationed on the same battlefield and then whisked away, only to be brought back together once more after all these years. But there was no mutual history to draw upon this familiarity from. The two of you just fell into a steady rhythm. One that you’d individually practiced and honed for years, like a song that was never intended for a duet, only for the two to sound identical.

“...And that’s where I learned Keldabe Handshakes are applicable as a neutralizing tactic across species.” You finished, explaining the first and only time a Shriek-Hawk has successfully taken you off guard.

“Charming.” A voice hissed, and then a pair of boots dropped to the ground with a soft thunk. “Echo, shouldn't you be putting your toys away? It’s late.” Crosshair slunked into the cockpit, seemingly from the shadows. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I must be a pretty expensive toy to trade for speeder brakes.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised you’ve never been with someone and lost track of time, Cross. That does tend to require social skills and, y’know, liking people?” Echo crossed his arms and stared his brother down.

“Well unless they’re taking your bunk, you should tell Tech someone’s joining him in the cockpit tonight. It’s too late to take them back now.” Crosshair seemed to spit the last part of the sentence, annoyed that someone else is in his space and bothering his brothers. While you understood hesitancy, you felt as if he reveled in his current position rather than proceeding with caution.

Echo turned to you and looked into your eyes softly. “It’s up to you.”

“I’m already cramping an already small ship. I can kick it up here with Tech for the night.” You said, smiling. While you very badly wanted to just crawl into Echo’s bunk with him, you weren’t doing that the first day. Plus, you don’t know how Echo feels about his personal space, or his sleeping positions, or if he prefers one side of the b—

“How touching.” Crosshair cut off your thoughts with the remark. He spun on his heel, and disappeared just as quickly as he appeared. Echo sneered at the doorway.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping up here. Like I said, Tech can be a lot sometimes.” Echo looked back at you, eyes full of worry.

“Tell you what, I’ll come get you if he’s being too much and we can switch, okay?” You compromise, getting the understanding that Echo’s going to worry either way.

“Deal.” Echo said firmly with a nod, and stands up. “For as much of a dick as he is, Crosshair’s right, it is rather late.” You nod and shrug slightly in agreement.

Echo turns to you and leans down. “Try and get some rest.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek before turning on his heel and borderline speeding out of the room.

When the door shuts automatically, you ghost your hand along your cheek, and an uncontrollable smile breaks across your face.

I think he likes me.

i do not remember these battalions being in the show….?

So... homoerotic lightsaber training, anyone?

NO BC i was reading yesterday and bill got the timelines jumbled up in his retelling of events.

when talking about his meddling in human affairs he tells it in (mostly) chronological order, ending with the tri-angels in the 1990s

HOWEVER

we know from the show and literally everything else BUT tbob (no real concrete dates given) that billford met in 1981, which is when bill would've been busy with maniacintosh computers according to himself

SO WHAT IS THE TRUTH?

am i tweaking tho bcz why r so many things just. wrong. in the new gravity falls stuff. like

... june sixteenth??? brown eyes???? who r u talking about rn bcz its #not my stanford

like?? its been eating me up for ages. that and all the typos everywhere? when theres evidently SO much care put into all of it? i DONT TRUST IT

✨ CROSSHAIR STANS WE ARE WINNING ✨

AHHHHHHH

first and foremost tell her i love her to pieces. second of all why do all dumpster cats move indoors and suddenly all survival instinct and thoughts in their little coconut heads just FLEE

this is my dumpster cat maybelle, she had a dead eye in her head when we got her that smelled like fish if you got up close (she doesnt anymore, thankfully)

i do believe she thinks in syllables.

Should I leave this as the storefront name yes or yes