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Imagine, post-war Rex, in hiding from the empire. He's on a small planet that saw a skirmish or two during the war, so he knows the land. He's stalking through the woods when he finds a small but well maintained grave yard. It's about a battalions worth of clone troopers.
All the graves have flowers and notes and trinkets, thanking the troopers for saving their village.
Out of the tens of thousands of troopers abused. It would be nice if someone somewhere honored their lives.
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It was not in fact okay.
Tup's death is so tragic in the clone wars.
I have made a seperate account to post star wars stuff if y'all are interested @cosmic-atomics . It's mainly going to be old art and reblogs on there, but if you like star wars or star trek go give it a follow.
What hurts?
Rex x (jedi?) male reader hurt/comfort
*Summary- After Rex gets sent to Umbara he is immedently sent out to Zygerria. Before he geta to come home to you. Before he can tell you he's okay.*
**Proffesor's note- So this was just suppost to be a rambly talk but i got im my feels, its messy, not proof read and all in all not the best. Its my first fic and i like it so? Also i headcannon that Rex, Kix, Jesse, and Hardcase are batchmates.
!WARNINGS! Injury, talk of injury, major character death(not you or rex) crying, mention of slavery, greif, alcohol and angst.
**Umbara broke him mentally, Zygerria broke him physically; he still came home to you.**
Almost a month. Thats how long you went without talking to your riduur. No "I love you's" no "i miss you's" no "im okay's". You try to keep your morral up. You try not to cry yourself to sleep, to harass the counsal for imfomation, but you were scared. You throw yourself into anything to distract yourself. You clean the appartment untill its so tidy Mace Windu would have tea there. You work to the point of passing out on the sofa in nothing but you boxers and one of Rex's shirt, a half empty bottle of wine on the table along with your dead data pad.
One day your comfortably sitting at the kitchen table on your personal dada pad when you get a message. Its from Kix, it reads "Have you come to see the captain yet?" You furrow your brows confused and type out an answer "what?" He responds "the captain got back last night, we're discharging him today. You didnt know?"
Your heart and chest turn a mix between burning hot and freezing cold as you slip your jacket and boots on and run out of your appartment. You dont live far from the base on Coruscant so getting to the clone hospital dosn't take long. Jesse is waiting for you and he talks with you but your brain dosent prossess much just enjoying the soft comfort of being around family. You turn cold and stop as you approch the ICU. "Jesse?" He stop and turns to you and for the first time today you notice the sad look the dark circles under his eyes. You want to ask whats wrong but Rex if your first priority. "Yes vod?" He answers "How bad? do i-" he cuts you off "Don't overthink this. Go see your riduur." You nod and follow him. All the way down the halls, you feel a prick of anger at how shitty the clone hospital is compared to the nat-born one but you shove it away as Jesse stops and points to the door. "Go on." He urges "Me and Kix are here if you need us." If you wernt so scared you might have asked about Hardcase. The 3 of them are ussauly inseparble, Rex's closest brothers. You push open the door and see him. He has burn marks on his neck and wrists and some slashes on his shoulders. You step in more. "Rex?" He looks at you and you cant tell if he is worried or releved "Cyre'ika.." he responds, his voice is a bit scratchy but he sounds the same, strong, but you can here the twinge of pain under it. "What happened? I thought-" You start "-I know." He cuts you off. "Im here. Im alive, just- tired." He sighs "I bet." You scoff and he laughs but coughs a bit. *stars you missed his laugh.* you take a step closer and he reaches for your hand. "Your okay?" You ask sofly as you take it "Not really. But im better now that im home." You sigh and touch his face "Whats wrong?" You ask. "What isn't?" He responds a bit harshly "Rex." You warn softly "Im sorry just- can you get Kix so we can go home?" You nod and before you know it youre opening the door of your appartment. Rex, sits on the sofa and lets out a sigh but it sounds like a whince. You smile "Do you wanna stay on the sofa or come to bed?" "I want...you." he mumbels "Then you should come to bed." You tease offering him a hand. He takes it and follows you sitting on the edge of the bed. "House looks nice." He looks up at you while you get him some clean clothes. "Your fault." You hand him the clothes and he pauses. "Whats wrong?" You ask concerned. "I have scars." You scoff "I know that ive been with you long enough-" he cuts you off again "new ones." You sigh softly and look at him "im not scared now anymore then i was the first time i saw you shirtless." You smile and press your forhead to his "would you like me to leave?" "No." He says softly "just dont get scared." "I wont." You say determened. He was right he has a lot of new scars, a few blaster marks and scuffs but the ones that scare you are the whip marks and the burns on his neck that look like the marking of slave binders. He clearly dosent want to talk about it now so he instead gets dressed and lays down. You quickly follow but stay sitting up, he moves his head in your lap and wraps his arms around your waist then lets out a soft shiver "Cold?" You ask "No." "Whats wrong?"
Its a long pause "A lot." "Anything i need to know now?" He whinces and you can see the tears forming in his eyes "What hurts" you softly brush your fingers over his buzz, its grown out a bit now; it looks nice. "My heart." you dont like that answer
"Sweetheart...Hardcase is dead." Your fingers stop and your stomach turns "Im sorry- i didn't want to tell you i couldnt tell you- Jesse and-and Kix-" he is trembeling now, his whole body. He tries to pull himself closer but his body is in to much pain to let him. You take a shuttering breath and move your hand to his back "And youre not. Youre here with me. Youre alive and s-safe." You voice cracks and you feel tears well in your eyes you both sit there and cry for a while, safe in your home, together. After sometime the sobs stop and exaustion sets in, you lay down still holding him close. "We'll have Jesse and Kix over tomorrow. Ill take time off work. So will you three-" you start "Darling you know we cant-" "Ill make it happen." You say firmly. "You lost someone you have held close for most of your life. You get to take time to mourn that. You all do.
Just. Just imagine for a moment.
You are grown from a tube. You are an identical copy to all of your brothers. You are all the same; you are all different. You can't hate what is happening because it is why you exist, but your existence is only to be a soldier.
Good soldiers follow orders.
You train alongside your squad, your batchmates, your siblings, your everything, and once pushed to the brink of breaking do you discover you're made of stronger stuff. You're deployed in a war that you do not understand, but it doesn't matter.
Good soldiers follow orders.
You listen to your general. You keep your jedi safe. You keep the galaxy safe. Or at least you try. It drags on for years, far longer than you thought it would, but still, you will stand there every day and fight for what's right; it's what you were trained to do.
Good soldiers follow orders.
Then those orders change. You fire on your general; your jedi. You don't know why, but it's what you have to do. You fire on brothers who don't follow directions, because it's what you have to do.
Good soldiers follow orders.
Then you're tossed aside; treated like less than vermin, or garbage stuck to the bottom of the Empires shoe. You need to be erased and swept under the rug so no one knows why you did what you did (but if what we did was right, why are we hiding it?) The only home you've ever known is destroyed, because that's what the Empire wants. You fire on it blindly, because your commander told you to.
Good soldiers follow orders, right?
Until you are blamed for doing so. Until your entire existence is wiped out like you were never really there.
But you still followed orders.
And it doesn't matter.
Whumpuary Day 1: "This Will Hurt"
“This will hurt.”
A familiar phrase; a statement of fact. ‘This will hurt.’ Little clones should know what to expect from the world. It will hurt.
“This will hurt.”
It could be appended to almost anything. Training, medbays, spars, examinations. Especially examinations. The way longnecks said it started to itch under your skin after long enough, somewhere between anticipation and clinical detachment. They would take you apart; you would still be awake; it would hurt.
“This will hurt.”
Bracing for crash-landing impact. Facing a battalion of droids, a haze of blaster-fire, a collapsing building. It will hurt; with luck, it will continue hurting.
“This will hurt.”
In the medbay it means something else. Something close to comfort, or to hope. ‘This will hurt’ is a limb you have not lost, nerves you have not fried. ‘This will hurt’ is an imperative: make sure this keeps hurting, vod. Don’t die on me now.
“This will hurt.” Sadistic. “This will hurt.” Indifferent. “This will hurt.” Something approaching kind.
“This will hurt,” you hear one day, as a natborn tends their child. “I’m sorry, love, this will hurt.” You have never heard the words used this way. They form unfamiliar shapes on your tongue as you mouth along. I’m sorry, and love, and this will hurt. One day, you vow, you will have occasion to say all three together. It might be nice, you think, to have someone be sorry that you are hurt.
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@tiend you deserve some angst <3
So we know the empires starting to "retire" the clones, we have a massive group of people who are in an incredibly vulnerable state, and well in a galaxy so big and an empire that doesnt care, whos going to take advantage of this? The mining companies. Hiring clones enmasse and sending them off to remote world just to reap the benefits of men whove never been paid in their lives, conditions are shitty, thats ok theyre used to it, cheap PPE? Why not? While were at it lets cram them into dorms thats ok theyre used to it, at least theyre off the street right, pay? Still not recognised as sentient we dont have to pay full wages... make of this what you will.
Hail Mary
Call Fox whatever you’d like. A thing, an object, a defect, or a failure. They weren’t new endearments. Fox heard them all throughout his childhood. Weak, small, pitiful, doomed. Fox sometimes let himself linger and believe them.
With the current outlook I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to posting this (may post it out of order because this is an important story in my series) but I wanted to share this part at least because I feel like Crosshair, even my Adventures AU one, is allowed to feel angry.
This story, Risk Vs Reward, deals with the dechipped!Batch and I getting Rex and Cody’s chips out about two weeks after Lola Sayu.
Context for newbies to my page: my Adventures AU is extremely similar to canon with a few notable exceptions. Same universe, same conflict, same characters, same tech, ect. My self insert (literally) tells them about canon and they’re all working to fix it.
Enjoy!
