#arc 77

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Fordo Week 2025 Interest Check

Hello, Fordo enjoyers! You may have noticed Fordo Week is a bit late on the regular schedule. Since we're a very small community in the Star Wars sphere, we're wondering if keeping this annual Fordo fest as a week event might be too demanding for our contributors. We'd love to hear from you!

If you have any questions, feel free to reply in the notes or send us an ask.

Please help us spreading the word so we can find other Fordo enjoyers in this giant pool!

Pairing: ARC-77 Fordo x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and Fordo take a few minutes to enjoy each other because war is hell, and pleasure is hard to come by.

Warnings: unprotected piv sex (use protection irl), semi-public sex, creampies, armor and gloves stay on. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 555

A/N: in true Fordo fashion, there’s not a lick of dialogue in this fic, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

Dividers by my fave @dystopicjumpsuit ❤️🤍

Captain Fordo from 2003 Clone Wars, but make it the phase one helmet from the '08 Clone Wars series.

Art taglist: @the-hexfiles @your-slutty-gf

You can find more of my art here in my art masterlist or by clicking my art tag.

[wait! wait. five minutes. ok.] background noise echoes over the line; the rattle of something metallic rolling across a solid surface, likely a desk, followed by a strange rustling like the blades of dry grass rubbing together. [thank you. i'll try to keep it brief.]

[you can't leave the thistle nebula. you know that, but you don't know why. there's a... it's difficult to explain. i don't know how much en-oh has told you.] clearly the droid hasn't mentioned him at all, which comes as a mild surprise. [there's a creature at the center of it all. it gets inside your head, turns your thoughts inside out. it feeds on your memories until there's nothing left. i don't think it's fully noticed you yet, you're not an employee, but it will soon and then—]

MAKO flashes his own searchlight on in return, the beam blinding before he tones down the intensity. As far as his radar is concerned, there's just the one; but he knows that where there's one clonetrooper, there's always more lurking nearby, ready to leap in and swarm their target. He inwardly scoffs at the notion. Bunch of pack-rats.

"Neither. I am a solo act. But that does not matter to you droid killers, does it?" An edge of bitterness creeps into the gunship's voice. "I came here to escape a Seppie patrol. The chipbrains want to scoop me out and replace me with one of their inferior models. Your masters will do the same."

There's an unspoken, simmering hatred there; he'd rather die than submit. MAKO flexes his wings, articulated joints unfolding outwards in absent restlessness before tucking back against his fuselage. The glow of his motion sensor continues to sweep side-to-side in endless monotony, lending him the guise of patience he sorely lacks.

"The way I see it, there are two outcomes to this meeting." The hum of the gunship's weapons systems coming online is unmistakable. "You move on and pretend you never saw me. Or you call your brothers and I turn the whole lot of you into paste."