Fic Masterlist

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly & CT-7567 | Rex Characters: CT-7567 | Rex, CC-5052 | Bly Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Kamino Is Terrible, bly is a good brother, rex is hurting, he misses his batchmates :( Summary:

Rex remembers one night back on Kamino when Bly was there.

Inspired by let the river in by saltsanford.

Angstober Day 25

Mind-control / Brainwash

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Inheritance, a fic we have yet to release. ^-^

It’s probably been close to an hour by now though Anakin’s not exactly sure when he finally pulls himself up onto a higher platform of the building. Right up ahead, light glints off a familiar armored figure, who’s standing his back facing him.

“Rex?” Anakin calls cautiously, taking a step towards him.

Something about his presence just feels off. Almost… double maybe. And he can sense the Son right around here, but he doesn’t actually see him anywhere.

“Rex?” he calls again when the clone doesn’t respond, “Come on, let’s go.”

Finally, he slowly turns around. “We can’t,” he objects, “He’s right. Right about everything. You have to join him.”

That’s… totally unlike him. Both what he’s saying, and the way he’s saying it. What did the Son do to him? “Rex, what’s wrong?” Anakin asks warily.

“What’s wrong?” he repeats like that’s the stupidest question he’s ever heard, “What should I go back for? To fight in a war I have no say in? As a slave to the Jedi?” Anakin flinches back at the unexpected question. He’s not exactly wrong. That is all the clones are, slaves to the Jedi and the Republic. They have no say in any of it, and even if they didn’t want to fight, it wouldn’t matter. He tries to take care of his own clones as well as he can, but he knows other Jedi aren’t the same way.

But he needs to focus on the situation at hand right now, not… this. An issue that bothers him all the time even if he never talks about it to anyone. “This isn’t you, Rex. He did something to you.” That he knows for sure. Rex may have a point, but he would never say something like that in his right mind. It’s not the way he is. It’s like – like the Son is somehow controlling his mind, and Anakin clings to that hope, because he refuses to believe that the man who’s always had his back would turn on him like this.

“He did nothing to me,” the clone retorts, “He just asked me to give you a message.”

“What?” Anakin demands, cautious and suspicious.

“He said if you don’t join him, he will kill me.” What?! No, he’s never going to let that happen.

“I won’t let him!”

“Then you will do it yourself,” Rex snarls suddenly, whipping out his blasters and open firing. Only years of constant training allow him to react in time, diving out of the way as the shots tear into the ground around him. He hastily ignites his lightsaber, deflecting the shots away, trying to avoid sending any of them too close to Rex as he does so.

No, just no. He doesn’t want to fight him. He can’t fight him. He’s like – something almost like a brother. Anakin takes a few steps back as Rex keeps shooting at him, then jumps down from the ledge and continues advancing towards him. The only way he’ll be able to stop this is if he stops just defending himself and disarms Rex. Somehow, without hurting him.

“I don’t want to fight you, Rex,” he says, but the clone doesn’t even respond, just keeps firing.

Fine. He raises a hand, Force shoving Rex into the wall behind him and ripping away his blasters with the Force, him in place. The captain strains against the Force grip, but it doesn’t break. This doesn’t really solve the problem of how he’s going to free him from whatever the Son did to him.

He’s still pondering it when Obi-Wan runs into view, pulling out his lightsaber. “Any suggestions?”

“The Daughter said she might be able to do something to break the mind control, but she’s fighting the Son right now.”

Then what are they supposed to do?

Curses, Cocoons and Clones part 1

Prologue here: https://alienficsoutofspite.tumblr.com/post/677031338403151872/curses-cocoons-and-clones-prologue

Im aware this part is short but things are going to get busy for me soon and I’m trying to relax when I can so I’ll be slower with updates but in the meantime, please enjoy.

“Sirs…the floors are glowing.”

Hardcase who was supposed to scouting the building with Dogma while the others used the rain to rinse off all the muck off was poking at loose piece of wood. It was slightly hidden by a pillar in the back of the room. Rex barely contained a sigh. Ahsoka peeked at said lose floorboard and gently pried it open. “Wizard! It looks like a cave system.”

“Maybe the people who lived here used it as a means of escape.” General Kenobi suggested

“Or to hide spice.” Rex grumbled. He was NOT in the mood to find some weird cave that may or may not have something that they weren’t supposed to find. Suddenly he was glad that General Skywalker wasn’t here. He was currently on Coruscant spending time with his secret wife as the Chancellor summoned him for some meetings of some kind. Anakin Skywalker would have gone in went no plan and would probably need a rescue.

Unfortunately, Kenobi although more cautious was curious. With Ahsoka on the team Rex was sure they were going on an spontaneous adventure again.

“What do you think Commander Cody?” Asked Kenobi.

Rex prayed that he would say to ignore it and focus on the task at hand.

To Rex’s dismay, The commander took off his helmet and peered down “I think we should check it out in case the Separatists left something important.”

The cave system was thankfully not a maze but it certainly was a complicated one. Rex it reminded uncomfortably of the labs on Kamino. Some of the other vode must have the same thought as their shoulders were stiff like they were being watched by the trainers. The only source of light were these weird bulbs that grew on the stalactites of the cave.

Cody suddenly stopped in front of large opening. “Cody?” Rex was almost afraid to ask

He waved his hand “Sorry I thought…. Nevermind.” He hurried over to Kenobi. Rex and Fives exchanged looks. Even though the helmets they knew how to read a vode’s body language. Something was definitely wrong. Rex turned to the opening. “Want to check it out?” Asked Fives.

“Let’s see what this place is really about.” muttered Rex and walked further into the cave.

“There was more of the weird glowing eggs things in here.” Rex mused to himself. There was, with them growing thicker and bigger clusters. Rex’s eyes wandered to the centerpiece in the middle of the room. It was a small object on a pillar. It was round and porous with vines and flowers growing in the tiny holes. Fives reached his hand towards it-

“Wait!”

But it was too late a thick pollen erupted from the object covering the room in the stuff.

“Fives!”

“Uhhh…..sorry sir?”

Rex groaned it was bad enough being covered in mud.

Rex felt the beginnings of a headache “let’s just go back to the men.”

“Yes sir.”

Fives didn’t argue and as they slowly walked to the others Rex felt his headache worsening. By when he saw Commander Ahsoka and Cody he felt like his entire body was being crushed.

Cody shouted when Rex collapsed. Distantly he was aware of Fives doing the same. The last thing he saw was Ahsoka’s and Cody’s worried faces.

gelphie - modern au

so! i did a poll like a week or so ago and model glinda/photographer elphie won in terms of modern aus you'd want to see. idk if I'll make a full fic but figured i'd give y'all a taste of the idea:

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“Hey, Pfannee.” Elphaba lifts a hand in a casual wave as she enters the room, nodding her head to some of the other staff as she makes her way over to the young man. He brightens when he sees her, tottering over happily with his arms full of clothes. 

Typical Pfannee. 

“Elphaba, hey girl! Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

“I’ve got three minutes to spare, what do you mean?”

Pfannee laughs, awkwardly nudging his glasses back up his nose without dropping his load. Elphaba drifts further into the room, putting down her bag and sipping on her tea.

“So, I heard we’re working with someone new today,” she drawls. 

Beside her, Pfannee gasps. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

But Pfannee’s shocked expressions falls into something mischievous and he shakes his head. “Nope. Not going to ruin the surprise now. You’re going to die when you see her.”

Elphaba rolls her eyes. By the way he’s acting, this new model is likely someone famous. Or- famous to Pfannee at least. Elphaba doesn’t really keep up with anyone like that. Despite having chosen photography as her career, she tries to keep herself separate from the fashion industry at large. 

It’s incredibly toxic, and she’s seen what it can do to people. Case in point: 

“I can't believe I get to take her new measurements! Rumors say that she’s lost weight, and that means I’ll be the first to know her smallest size!” Pfannee grins like that’s a completely reasonable thing to say about an adult woman. 

Elphaba hides her frown behind another sip of tea. Most models don’t really have a lot of room to lose weight. If it’s enough to make a visible difference, especially since the woman’s last job, then she’s likely dropped a concerning amount in a very small time period. 

Elphaba spends the next blur of time discussing the shoot with the other photographers as well as the lighting crew, the hair and makeup artists, and Pfannee and his lackeys. They’re mostly set up and ready to go when a voice announces the model is on her way in, and everyone bustles around to prepare. 

Elphaba waits calmly, Pfannee nearly vibrating beside her. “Here she comes!” he says, just barely remembering in time not to physically shake Elphaba’s shoulders. 

A man enters first, stunningly dressed in a tailored navy suit with his chestnut hair swept back and his blue eyes sparkling. That’s sign number one. The second sign is the voice floating behind him, high and airy and delicate. Almost sing-songy. 

Ice floods through Elphaba’s veins. It stops her heart for several seconds before it kicks back on, three times faster than before. Dread twists in her stomach as she turns and eyes the doorway where a glimmer of pink and gold awaits her. 

It’s been years since she’s seen Glinda Upland. At least- in person that is. 

Glinda Upland, one of the highest-paid models in the country, is featured on enough billboards, magazines, ads, commercials, social media posts, and celebrity shows to make even the lowliest citizen feel like they personally know her. Her face is everywhere, and what a stunning face it is. 

Gorgeous and defined with flawless pale skin and dark chocolate eyes. Long lashes flutter as she blinks, and a single dimple carves into her cheek with every smile. America’s darling. Tiny, dazzling, desirable. 

And the woman Elphaba once loved.

Febuwhump Day 23 - "Don't Leave!"

Summary: While in mandatory quarantine, Rex's gets a visit from a brother he's been missing terribly.

Warning: Hallucinations caused by sickness.

[Sometimes I remember Rex got infected by the Blue Shadow Virus and that recovering from that probably didn't happen in just one day, regardless of there being a miracle cure... It's probably left a mark on his immunity system...]

[THIS STORY IS NOW ON AO3]

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Kix opts to quarantine him despite limited contact with the infected population of the little planet they'd been sent to help evacuate. A plague had run through, destroying a great part of the sentient life forms on said planet, and unfortunately Rex's armour had been breeched during an altercation with a delirious citizen.

Kix decides to quarantine him, because despite his limited contact Rex still got sick in the end. Because his immunity system had been absolutely ruined by his past run in with the BSV. The medic knows best in the end. Gives him several shots of whatever miracle cure the GAR has concocted to fight this menace of a disease, and leaves him to rest and recuperate. But the captain of the 501st can't help but feel uneasy by the decision anyway.

Everyone knew clones didn't do so good in isolation. They were raised in communal circumstances and trained to be dependant of each other's help out in the field, so separation anxiety was something of a common occurance among vode that either lost their squadrons or closest batchmates. Independent survival had to be taught to the clones that expressed enough hardiness to become ARCs.

Rex had earned that honour himself. But he was nothing if not a very social creature. And being confined to a lonely cot was... It was doing things to him.

Between the wet-sounding coughs, the sudden instances where he was overcome by vertigo even as he lay still, and the fogginess that came with flare-ups and fever, Rex wasn't sure what was worse... The fact he felt like he'd been run over and dragged by a hovercraft, or the fact it was getting hard to figure out if the things he was hearing and seeing were real or not.

Because he could swear Keeli was just sitting there with him. Watching him. Talking to him.

He didn't know his vod was on leave... He could have sworn he was on Ryloth...

"Easy now Seven..." His batchmate, his older brother, purred softly as he ran his fingers through the blond fuzz atop Rex's head. "It's just a little cold..."

"M'not supposed to get those..." He murmured back miserably, as he tried to lean into the contact. Everything hurt and he couldn't move. The covers felt really heavy on top of him. "M'a clone..."

"Even clones get sick vod'ika..." Keeli whispered soothingly. "We're engineered, but not even we can remain strong forever."

"No... s'just me... M'broken..." Rex whined. The aching muscles and sore throat made it hard to say more, but Rex didn't have to. Keeli knew. " Came out wrong..."

"No you didn't."

"I did..." His eyes burnt and he could feel tears slip down his flushed face. Past shame making his stomach feel funny. "Wrong... Hair... Everyone's... Everyone sees... M'cooked up wrong..."

"Your hair doesn't make you wrong. It makes you unique." Keeli frowned. "And I'm sorry... I'm sorry that we dyed it back on Kamino. That we tried to hide it, and made you think it was something to be ashamed of. We just wanted to protect you..."

"Ori'vod..." He wanted to reach out and hold Keeli's hand. He still couldn't bring himself to do so. It was all so unbearably hot and his body wouldn't obey.

"It's ok Rex... Rest now. I'll see you again some day..."

"Stay... Please..." The sickly clone whimpered. "Don't go..."

"I can't vod'ika... I'm dead..."

Keeli wasn't there anymore. Rex was alone. His heart ached as he remembered. Remembered that nearly all his batch was gone. That he was one of the last.

"Don't leave!" His nerve shattered and he yelled through a strained throat. "Keeli don't leave me! Keeli!!!"

The curtains parted. Kix rushed to check up on his captain as his strangled and incoherent screams and sobs annihilated the peace and quiet of the medical wing. Rex was out of his mind with delirium and fear, the fever reeking havoc in his mind as his immune system fought the leftover effects of the plague.

It was hard to see his brother so distressed, but there was nothing more he could do besides sedate him and wait out the effects...

Right Hands of the Republic

Summary: Sabé and Rex have the worst jobs in the world.

Pairing: Background Anidala

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: None

Authors Note: It’s finally done! After months of inactivity! Big thanks to @transfetts for helping me edit this one! And a special shout out to @royalhandmaidens for helping me run with this idea, and being an incredible person to bounce off of ❤️

In all honesty, Sabé wasn’t sure if her day could get any worse.

Her life had been threatened before. That was easy to deal with. She had played the seven-string hallikset in front of millions of people. That was also easy, although in a different way. Sabé had fought the Battle for Naboo in the most uncomfortable outfit she’d ever worn, with a headpiece that weighed down her neck and made her look like a child wearing an oversized bonnet.

But standing here. Looking like an idiot next to the stiffest Trooper she had ever met? Today definitely took the cake as the worst day of Sabé’s life.

Sabé had never actually met a Clone Trooper before. Sure they were everywhere on Coruscant, they were practically everywhere in the universe, but Sabé had never actually met one before. The Coruscant guard didn’t really talk much, and she had only ever interacted with them as Padmé, not as Sabé.

But as soon as she saw Anakin and his trooper outside Padmé’s senate chamber, Sabé knew she would be spending some quality time with a Clone.

“General Skywalker,” Padmé started, and even with her hood covering her eyes, Sabé could practically see that dreamy look in Padmé’s gaze. Ugh. “How unexpected.”

Anakin wasn’t supposed to be back for weeks. He had returned from Umbara after a misunderstanding on the battlefield. Rumor had it that the GAR had suffered immense casualties and every available Jedi had been needed to finish the assault. Sabé wasn’t sure what was propaganda and what was the truth yet, but it seemed messy regardless.

And yet here Anakin was anyway. Sauntering through the senate halls as if nothing had happened and he wasn’t keeping the galaxy's biggest secret.

“Well you know how it is,” He says with a smirk, “I bring word from the Frontlines. I was hoping I could give you an update on our progress.”

What he really meant was, “We should both neglect our responsibilities and make out in your office and make Sabé super uncomfortable.” Or at least, that’s how Sabé heard it.

Playing third wheel was bad enough, but playing third wheel to a secret marriage between the dumbest Jedi and her best friend was possibly the worst way to spend an afternoon.

“Ani, you know I-“ Padmé starts, but he interrupts.

“Just a moment of your time senator,” He grabs at her hands gently, holding them near his chest. “Please?”

And Sabé knows then that Padmé is sold.

“Alright,” Padmé sighs, but she’s smiling. A lovesick type of grin that spreads warmly across her face. “Sabé, would you mind waiting here for a moment?”

“As you wish M’lady.” Sabé says. She actually did mind. A lot. But doing things she didn’t want to do was part of the job.

My hands are yours.

“Rex, why don’t you keep Sabé company for a bit? I’ll be right back.” Anakin winked as if to say “I won’t be right back”.

It took all of her Amidala training to hold back the eye roll.

And thus they stood.

And stood.

And stood.

Being a handmaiden meant a lot of standing around and waiting quietly. Standing behind Padmé as she addressed the Senate. Standing behind Queen Amidala as she addressed the senate.

It was a lot of senate and a lot of standing still. Sabé didn’t mind that. She liked listening and observing. What Sabé didn’t like was listening to her best friend fawn over a Jedi while she waited outside with a stranger.

Although the stranger probably didn’t like hanging around with her either.

Captain Rex hadn’t moved once. Hadn’t even addressed her. He stood at attention, armor faded and dented as he gazed silently ahead. He looked like he had seen better days. The paint was chipping off his arm brace and there was ash on his chest plate.

They must have gone straight for the senate building as soon as they had returned.

He was probably just as exhausted as her. And frustrated. Sabé let out a silent sigh. She was being unfair again. Not liking Anakin shouldn’t mean not liking his trooper.

So, Sabé takes a deep breath, without even moving, and tries to apply that “warmth” Yané always tried to teach her.

“So, see any good holovids latey?” Is the only thing she can think to say. Padme was a master at conversation, and although she had spent almost eight years imitating her, that was the one trait Sabé could not crack.

“I don’t have time off to watch Holovids.” His voice is mechanical under his mask, crisp and echoing.

It wasn’t like they were trying to be subtle or anything.

“Oh.” Is all Sabé says before they fall back into an uncomfortable silence. He seems to pity her though, for Captain Rex tries to start up conversation again after a few moments.

“Do you think we’ll be able to leave soon?”

As if it is the will of the Force, suddenly there's laughter coming from Padmé’s chambers.

“No.” Sabé responds.

And suddenly there’s a crash, like a window shattering.

Forgetting her formalities, or her own embarrassment, Sabé instantly turns and slams into the door, forcing it open. The Captain is right behind her, blaster drawn. He almost runs right into her.

Padmé and Anakin are staring out a window. Anakin is leaning out, as if trying to see something. Padmé turns.

“Sabé. It was a reporter. I left my window open.”

Her heart drops.

Reporter. Open window. Secret affair.

Ruin.

Anakin seems much less panicked than Padmé, straightening himself and shutting the blinds. He looks… relieved? But Sabé has no time to untangle the map of his soul right now.

“What did he look like?” She asks firmly. There was little time for her to act, and she couldn’t waste a second.

“Dark hair, silver speeder bike. He was wearing a blue media jacket. Heading down to the lower levels.”

“Understood.” Sabé turns instantly, already planning the best route in her head. He would have had to take-

“Now wait just a minute.” Anakin. A minute is not something we have, Sabé wants to yell, but she keeps silent. “I’m not going to let Sabé go alone. She’ll never be able to catch that guy by herself.”

Yes I could. Sabé thinks. But still she keeps silent.

“Rex. Accompany Sabé. I want both of you back before we ship out.”

“Understood Sir.” The Captain stands at attention before quickly turning to Sabé.

Great. The one thing worse than being slowed down by Anakin, was being slowed down by his right hand. He had no idea how she operated. And he stuck out like-

Well he stuck out just as bad as a velvet robbed handmaiden.

“Whatever you wish, m'lady.” Sabé says, secretly hoping Padmé will side with her and deny Rex. But of course, she doesn’t.

“It would be helpful to have another person come along.” Padmé says instead, “Just hurry.”

Sabé gives a soft bow before turning on her heel and racing out of the room, the sound of clanking armor following her the whole way.

The Naboo garage was filled with glimmering starships and speeders. Sabé’s personal speeder was not counted among them.

“I’m driving,” Sabé says as she turns on the machine. “You can sit behind me.”

“Right.” He clearly didn’t like handing off leadership, but it seemed he was wise enough to take the metaphorical and literal backseat when he had to. The engine of her speeder roars to life as Sabé settles in the front with Rex quickly following suit.

“You’ll be able to see better than me if you use your scanner to try and spot him,” Sabé yells over the engine.

Her hair was wiping wildly now, flying loose from her hood and into her eyeline. What she would give for a hairpin.

“He’s probably klicks away by now.” Rex says, and Sabé hears the mechanical clinking of his rangefinder shifting into place as he scans the city.

“That’s why I asked you to use your bucket, genius.” Sabé says before pulling into the busy skylanes.

Sabé didn’t like Coruscant. It was too busy, with too many people and too much pollution. And the Underworld was the worst part. Between the smell of burning fuel, the rattling metal and the horrid smell of endless garbage disposals, everything about it made her skin crawl.

But whatever Padmé asked, Sabé would follow through.

“You seem to know your way around.” Rex says.

“I make it my business to know.” She replies. Just because Padmé wanted Anakin’s clone to tag around did not mean Sabé had to like it.

“Right.”

They fall into the motion of the city. With the wind tugging her hair loose and ringing in her ears, Sabé almost misses Rex’s shout.

“I found him! There!” He points over to her left. The reporter in question is six lanes over, blue jacket whipping wildly in the wind. Camera strap around his neck.

“Hang on!” She yells, before pulling a completely illegal six lane change.

Pulling up as close as she can, Sabé tries to settle herself even with the reporter, bikes side by side.

“Pull over and give me that camera!” Sabé yells, and the reporter turns to her with a wild look.

“On whose authority?” The reporter yells back.

“The Grand Army of the Republic.” Rex doesn’t yell, but the speakers in his helmet amplify his voice enough to be heard over. Sabé wasn’t exactly sure they were officially acting on behalf of the GAR, but it seemed to scare the reporter enough to give him pause.

“You’re in possession of private property!”

“I’m in possession of the story of the century!”

“Like hell you are!” Sabé screams.

He was drifting dangerously close now, his bike almost brushing hers. Normally, the auto navigation system would prevent them from getting this close to another vehicle, but Sabé had rewired it months ago in favor of more subtle routes.

He’s still yelling at her about “stories of the age” and “secret affairs” as she reaches out with her right hand and tries to grab his camera. He pulls back, but he could only move so much with both hands on the handle.

Almost-

And suddenly Sabé’s right hand slips off the steering.

And everything moves in slow motion.

Sabé’s bike tilts left, falling straight into the reporter’s. There’s a crunch from her bike, and the engine spits fire and sparks. The speeders are locked together now, her pedals caught in his.

The reporter has this terrified look on his face, and Sabé seizes that split second and rips the camera off the chain around his neck.

And then her bike falls.

And she falls.

And Rex falls right after her.

In the back of her mind, Sabé vaguely hears Rex yelling something along the lines of, “not again” but all she was really processing, was that she was falling to her death.

But instead of dying, Sabé finds her fall cut short as she crashes into a large speeder hood.

The group inside gasps in horror, and reaching as fast as she can, Sabé tries to grasp at the driver's hand, or the windshield or anything, but within an instant, she slips right off. Her sleeve catches on the side of the vehicle and tears in half as she falls again.

And lands directly onto another speeder.

This one is smaller, and buckles under her weight. Dripping off the skylane. The driver lets out a scream, and shakes her bike.

“I won’t be robbed by some crazy lunatic!” She cries.

“I’m not trying to rob you!” Sabé yells over the commotion.

“Liar!” The driver screams, and keeps shaking her bike. Sabé’s grip slips, and she can feel herself falling.

“Stop, stop! I just want to get down!” She manages. But the driver won’t hear it, and gives the bike one hard shake.

And Sabé is falling again, but the fall is quick, as she lands straight into a dumpster.

Despite the gross cushioning, Sabé hits the bottom of the bin with a sick crack, and instantly knows she won’t be sleeping on her left side for a while.

Ow.

Against the will of her body, Sabé pushes herself up and stands. She had to find that reporter, and she had to get out of that terrible, terrible smell.

Climbing over the edge of the bin shouldn’t have been hard, normally Sabé could have scaled a wall in seconds. But her vision was slightly blurred, and not being able to use her left shoulder was a hindrance. Standing on trash bags, Sabé boosts herself over the edge and stumbles out and onto the alley floor.

Her dress is in shambles. The left sleeve had ripped clean off, as had her hood. The once perfect ombré is now stained with mysterious green and brown liquid from the dumpster. Not to mention the pieces of trash that got stuck to the velvet.

Sabé knows her hair is flying free now and dreads the thought of her reflection. If her grease stained and scratched hands are any indication, she isn’t pretty.

Rex is laying on the ground a few feet away, trying to push himself off his stomach. His pauldron has a crack down the middle and several small pieces of his armor are missing. And so is his helmet.

Rex has a thin cut across his face, spanning from his left eyebrow to his chin.

He looks.

Really young.

Younger than she had expected.

It was probably foolish of her to assume he was older than her, Sabé knew most clones were only around ten, with accelerated growth. But she had always assumed he would look like her father or something. All grey and set lines. But Rex appeared no older than Sabé herself. Sure he had a giant cut across his face right now, but she could see past that.

He looks like a kid. Well, teenager. Well. He looked her age. But still. Young.

Too young.

Sabé supposes to most people he would seem handsome. Maybe in a boyish way, that would make the school girls on Naboo giggle, but to Sabé he just looks like-

Like a boy, covered in dirt, who really didn’t want to be here.

“Did you see where the reporter fell?” Sabé asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks, and she can feel an invisible weight sitting on her lungs. Her left rib is definitely cracked.

“No.” He groans. Without his helmet, Rex’s voice was drastically different. “But he can’t have gotten far.”

Sabé studies around them, Rex was right, the reporter couldn’t have fallen that much farther than they had, their bikes were practically locked together-

There.

Crawling off a trash heap, the reporter looks just as stunned as Sabé feels. Although she hoped she was holding it together better.

“Stop!” She shouts.

Sabé groans, and despite her aching limbs, she runs after him. He’s not fast, but in her current condition, neither is she.

Stumbling loosely, Sabé runs until they’re side by side. She doesn’t have enough energy to even yell at this point, so instead she reaches out for the camera and almost-

Suddenly Sabé feels a sharp tug on her hem, and she’s janked backwards, stumbling into Rex. He yelps, and they both tumble onto the pavement.

“I had him!” Sabé says sharply, pushing Rex aside. Red flames tug at her vision.

She just wants to go home. This was stupid, and she had better things to do. And why would Padmé make her run around with some knockoff Anakin-

“I’m sorry.” Rex says. “I guess I’m not quite used to your fighting techniques. I should have been paying closer attention.”

“Oh.”

Maker, she was an idiot.

Rex isn’t Anakin, and this wasn’t his fault. She is a spy and he is a soldier. And while she was playing lone wolf, he was trying to offer support, and she had ignored him.

Maker.

“No I-“ Sabé pauses, and looks at him. “That was my fault.” She can’t find any other words, and mercifully, Rex seems to accept her half apology and changes the subject.

“Fighting General Grievous was easier than this.” He mumbles under his breath.

“You’ve fought General Grievous?” Sabé says.

“Yeah, and it hurt less.”

They both pause. They had crossed a bridge. Both of them serve as the right hands of the ridiculous people they love but can’t see past the end of their noses.

And they’re both exhausted.

He laughs then. It’s an overtired laugh interrupted by a harsh cough, but it’s a laugh. And it makes Sabé laugh too.

In the dim streetlights, Sabé lets herself breathe. And relax.

“This is ridiculous!” She says suddenly, muffled between coughing giggles. “We look ridiculous, and this mission is ridiculous and our friends are ridiculous.”

With a huffed laugh, Rex forces himself to stand, and offers Sabé his hand.

“Let’s get him this time.”

As it turns out, they don’t have to look far. Less than two klicks away, the reporter stands over a garbage can, vomiting. Camera held limply around his neck.

“Surrender your camera, or face the consequences.” Rex says, standing over the reporter as he hurls. He sounds so serious, Sabé tries not to laugh.

“Just take it.” The man mumbles. “Dear maker, just take the kriffing camera.” Reaching around his neck, the reporter unclips his camera and holds it out limply.

Sabé reaches forward and rips it from his hands, cradling it to her chest.

“Thank you for your service, citizen.” Rex finishes, nodding his head politely.

“Whatever.” The man mumbles, “Just leave me alone.”

“All this for a holo.” Rex says. He’s got a playful tone, despite his knee guard missing and all the pieces of trash in his hair.

But Sabé ignores his quip, and wanders to a more secluded part of the alley. She scrolls through the memory files, passing moments and memories and gossip and-

There.

They look ridiculous. Sabé thinks, but she knows that’s not true.

They look happy. Even through the lens, their warmth is captured.

Padmé’s warmth.

The way she looks at Anakin is so warm.

So loving.

Sabé lingers for a moment, holding the camera gently between her hands. Staring.

“My hands are yours.”

Then with all the power she can manage, Sabé throws the camera down and smashes it against the pavement.

Sparks fly and bits of metal shatter this way and that, kicking up dirt and muck. The flickering metal almost looks poetic.

Almost.

Rex is silent for a moment, staring at the unceremonial end, and Sabé can’t seem to find her voice.

Something in her chest ached. It’s probably a displaced rib, Sabé reasons, but she knows that isn’t really it.

Thankfully, Rex seems to know how to defuse uncomfortable situations.

“We should call someone to pick us up.” He huffs, gaze pointed at the endless levels above them. “I’m not walking back.” Sabé almost laughs.

“Can we eat first?” She asks instead, trying to swallow the strange tears caught in her throat, and rolling her aching shoulder.

“Yeah I could eat.”

“Do you have any money?”

“Nope.” He says with a grin, offering her his arm like they were leaving a charity ball and not crawling out of a dumpster.

That makes Sabé laugh. But she links her arm into his anyway and punches him in the shoulder, ignoring the way he winces.

“Fine. We’ll just charge Senator Amidala’s card.”

“You have access to the Senators bank?”

“Sometimes I AM the senator Rex.”

“Right. Sometimes I forget that.”

Sabé laughs.

“That’s the whole point, dummy.”

The diner they find looks almost as disgusting as they do.

Filled with flickering lights, unkempt floors, and more than a few blaster marks, the establishment doesn’t even react when a beaten up clone trooper and a crazy girl in half a dress show up and ask for a table.

The corner booth smells a bit like garbage, but Sabé reasons she also smells like garbage, so in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a big deal. At least she could eat.

“Their wedding kinda sucked.” Sabé says, voice slightly muffled in between bites of her sandwich.

“I’ve never been to a wedding.” Rex responds, taking another bite of his cushnip. He had a weird taste for someone whose main diet consisted of ration bars.

“They suck. Never let your best friend talk you into attending one.”

“Noted.”

“It was just me, and two droids.” Sabé swallows, “Have you ever had to make conversation with two droids at a secret wedding?”

“I’ve had to make conversation with undead Genioshians.” He tries, pointing his fork at her.

“That’s not the same.”

It’s silent for a moment, Rex still pointing at her, and then they both burst into laughter.

Uncontrollable, over tired laughter. Sabé only stops when her arching chest can’t take it anymore.

“Why are you blonde?” She interrupts suddenly. “I thought all clones were Jango Fett, well, clones.”

“What?” He breathes, coughing at the end, and staring at her in disbelief. “I help you chase a reporter 30 levels, and all you want to ask is ‘why are you blonde?’ That’s the best you can do?”

Sabé tries to laugh again, but her chest hurts so much she stops herself.

“Do I really look that awful?” Rex reaches up and pulls another piece of trash from his blacks.

“Yes.” Sabé says with a smile, “You look ridiculous without your bucket.”

Rex rolls his eyes, pointing at her again.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

Something catches his eye, and Rex glances out the diner window.

“There’s our ride.”

Outside, a Republic landspeeder settles into the parking lot recklessly. There’s an ARC trooper in the driver's seat, white armor painted the same blue as Rex. A member of his battalion no doubt.

Quickly rising, Sabé settles the bill, and follows Rex towards the trooper.

She wants to get out of this hole as quickly as possible. And shower. Twice.

“What happened to you?” The ARC trooper asks, and Sabé can’t tell if his tone is genuine concern or teasing.

Or perhaps both.

“Not now.” Rex mumbles, as he brushes past the trooper and practically falls into the back seat of the landspeeder.

“Hi.” The trooper turns to her now, and even through the helmet's voice altering, Sabé can hear his tone dripping with charisma. She gives a half laugh, but it sounds more like a wheeze.

“Hi.” She responds, “I’m Sabé.”

“I’m Fives.” He replies, “Hang out in the underworld often?”

“Can it, Trooper.” Rex yells from the landspeeder. His head is leaned against the seat, and his brow is furrowed, as if this happens all the time. “Just get us back to base.”

“Yes Captain.” Fives says with a loose salute, but he nods at Sabé, and she swears he winks under his helmet.

Carefully maneuvering around her bruises, Sabé settles into the backseat beside Rex.

“You know.” Sabé starts, “If I’m going to be a third wheel more often, I wouldn’t mind serving with you Captain.”

“It’s been an honor Sabé,” Rex says, and then pauses, “but in all honesty I could never do this again and be just fine.”

Sabés cracked rib hurts too much to laugh.

angstpril day 4: he’s not heavy, he’s my brother

oh dear, oh dear. have some Umbara (derogatory)

(tw: major character death)

“Sir!” Waxer skids to a stop, out of breath. “I’ve found the platoon leader. He’s still alive.” The forest shivers around them, imaginary enemies blinking red eyes in the distance. 

Cody hates it here. “Who is it?”

Waxer swallows and his face pales. “It’s—” he clutches the helmet in his hand tighter, duraplast creaking in his grip. “It’s Rex.”

Keep reading

rex and constantly bashing his head on poles :)

Ah yes, a classic. Thank you for this, it was really fun to write!

Bonk

Bang!

“Ow!” A chorus of laughter rises up from the brothers around him as Rex rubs the top of his head. He gets up much more carefully this time, ducking under the low overhang before being swept into Cody’s side.

“You good there? Hit your head pretty hard. You should probably get it checked out.”

“S’fine.” Cody levels him the look™, the one that says ‘I know you’re lying’, but Rex just looks away. “Really, it’s all good.”

“Mhm. Do I get to say I told you so when you go to the infirmary for a concussion?”

“Won’t happen, but sure.”

***

“Looks like a mild concussion, he’ll have to skip the next few training sessions.” Rex nods, and the medic leaves. He can practically feel the smugness radiating off of Cody now.

“I told you so.”

“Shut.”

“Hey, you said I could say that!”

“Mmmmmm.”

“You did.” Cody sits down on the bed next to him and pulls him into a hug. “I gotta look out for my little brother, you know?”

“I know.”

“Good. Now rest, I don’t want to see you even inch out of that bed until the medics clear you.”

“Sir yes sir,” Rex says, mocking a salute as Cody walks away, earning a fond eye-roll.

*****

“Hey Rex!”

“Wha-” Rex doesn’t even get a chance to see what Cody had tried to point out. Instead, he smacks his head against the top of the opening to the cave, sending himself roughly to his back. He has a lovely view of the cave ceiling, and he can just barely make out the sky at the edge. He groans as he sits up, Cody bounding over and nearly knocking him back down.

“Rex are you okay oh my god oh my god oh my god.”

“I’m fine. Just… had a disagreement with the roof.” He knows Cody is hiding a laugh at that, his lips are pressed thin but he can’t hide the smirk. “Aw come on, that was funny.”

“Okay a little. But seriously, that looked pretty bad. Can you stand up at all?”

“Yeah yeah, look.” Rex tries to stand up and immediately regrets it. His head starts pounding and he leans over. Cody catches him and sits him down against the cave wall, right at the entrance.

“Okay no, you stay here. I’ll bring you some food and water and get the medkit.”

“Yep, that sounds great,” he says, his voice tight with the pain. He closes his eyes and waits as Cody runs around to get the various supplies he needs. It’s not long before he hears a cantine and medkit clattering to the ground, and he opens his eyes again.

“Just lemme check, alright?” He nods. Cody gently pushes back his hair, pressing lightly where Rex hit his head. “Mmm, I’ll just put a little bit of disinfectant cream on it for now, it should heal quickly on its own.” There’s the sting of the cream, and Rex scrunches his face a little, but a hand on his cheek reminds him to relax.

“Done?”

“Done. Here, drink.” Rex takes the offered cantine and has a few sips before putting it down. Cody sits down next to him, and Rex lays his head on his shoulder.

“Any better?”

“A bit. Thank you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

*****

Rex knows he should probably turn on night vision to be on the safe side. He shouldn’t rely on the glow of his general and commander’s lightsabers; they’re not bright enough to be reliable. However, they are bright enough to be blinding if he looks at them with night vision, which is hard to avoid here.

Bang!

Well, now he knows. He shakes his head a little, ducking under the pipe and hoping he can retain some sense of dignity before turning around to address his men.

“Night vision on.” He can feel Cody’s smirk even though he’s not there, and hear him fussing over him. He feels lucky Cody hasn’t seen this. Now he just has to make sure he doesn’t find out.

Little Brother

Part Five of Te Ori Bal Te Kih

CC-2224 had grown used to seeing the aftermath of a trainer’s abuse, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still piss him off.

To say he was pissed when his batch come across the CT outside the training room was an understatement. He’d thought it would lessen up after Andin and the other trainers Fox scared off left but apparently not quite. 

“What’s your name vod’ika?” He asked as he knelt down in front of the young cadet.

The boy looked up fearfully at the sound of his voice. Besides the fact that he was blond and beat up, there didn’t appear to be anything else wrong with him. 

“Easy, we aren’t going to hurt you,” CC-5052 told him. 

The young clone’s eyes darted to each of the CCs nervously. He hunched his shoulders in to make himself seem smaller. 

“My designation is CT-7567.” He responded quietly.

“Look kid, what are you doing over here?” Wolffe asked. “These rooms are restricted to most of the clones.”

7567 looked up at Wolffe.

“I was training here.”

The CC batch looked at each other.

“You’re modified?” Wolffe asked skeptically. “You’re a CT though.”

7567 narrowed his eyes challengingly at Wolffe.

“Yeah and what of it?”

2224 shot his brother a glare.

“Nothing, we just didn’t know there were modified CT batches that’s all.” 

7567 slumped back a bit. 

“We weren’t intentionally modified. They think some of your tube juice leaked into ours.” The blond buried his chin into his knees. “Only me and another cadet in my batch can grow.” 

-

I'm thinking of posting this story to AO3 soon in it's full and continuous format!

CC-2224 -> Cody; CC-5052 -> Bly; CT-7567 -> Rex

Mando'a: vod'ika - little sibling

Reconditioned Rex? That one sounds really interesting, how can I find the first part of it?

I'm sorry anon, there's no first part, I got my wires scrambled and confused the au 😭 I got a drawing (i think you can find it in the tag below, in on mobile, sorry :c), but lemme explain the basics of it >:)c

Basically, Rex is the one who shots Krell at Umbara, and he's sent to reconditioning. Because a logistics issue, they are accidentally sent to the 501st. Ofc, nobody assumes that's Rex, they just think this new blond kid is just a coincidence.

However, as time goes by, Torrent connect the dots and realize that this shiny used to be Rex!! The story the follows the five stages of grief, from denial (Rex has died) to acceptation (this shiny, Temple, is NOT Rex, but they wouldn't exist without his absence)