I Know This Nose Art Is For The Bad Batch, But I Can’t Help But Imagine Another Clone Unit With A Stronger

For the prompts, if you're still doing those, maybe 39 with Rex?

I don't really ship him with anyone but maybe in a platonic way how Ahsoka, Anakin and Obi-wan have made him feel loved over the years <3

Ahhh you’ve got me twice! I’ve never actually written anything with Rex as the main subject, and I tend to avoid writing Ahsoka (I blame Dave, like I do with many things). As such, I’m sorry if you don’t agree with some of the frustration that has weaved its way through this entire thing. However, it was a lot of fun to try something out of my comfort zone. Don’t ask me why I’ve decided that Rex is the kind of person who wants to scream when he’s unhappy--I just feel like this man is holding it in during the entire war. Disclaimer that I actually have no idea what happened on Melida-Daan.

Prompt list

Previously completed numbers: 9, 10, 45

Please send a prompt! Something from the list, another idea, a song, anything!

Prompt 39:  Things you said when I was crying

Summary: Three times when Rex needed comfort, and three people who tried to provide it.

Rex unclips his kama, tossing it to the ground, before tugging at his pauldron. It doesn’t budge, and he grits his teeth, clawing at the clasp. After much too long, and Rex is about to scream, he finally gets it off, placing it down with deliberately petty gentleness, even though he wants nothing more than to hurl it at a tree. The pressure in his chest expands, like a seismic charge detonating, and he sobs, sinking to the mossy forest floor as the tears finally fall.

The difference between the forest and the images flashing through his mind is almost comical. Eyes open, it’s lush trees and blue skies, tiny flowers and tangled, twisting mushrooms, but when he blinks, it’s barren, grey fields and smoke that smothers him, blood and screams and Cody’s too-steady voice over the comms.

He buries his head in his hands, curled up against the trunk of an ancient tree. A bird trills above his head, light and lovely, but all Rex can hear is Cae, voice strained as Rex lifts his head, saying, I’m sorry I’m sorry I knew it would be me, blood seeping endlessly from the place where his legs had been.

Rex understands what Cody had once told him, about telling someone that they will be okay, everything will be okay, over and over, even though you both know it’s a lie.

“It’s a comfort, even if you know the truth,” Cody had said, in the dark of the planning room, blank face lit up in blue. “It’s easier to lie, in the moment, than to say goodbye.”

He hadn’t explained where he’d experienced it, but Rex had already heard of Wril, who’d injured his spine during a training mission, back on Kamino, and been ripped away by the Kaminoans, because some injuries cost more than a clone was worth. He’d always remembered it, that only he and his brothers would ever care about him, but he’d brushed aside Cody’s words, meaningless advice back then.

Now though, he knows it is true, has chanted the words to Cae as he bled out. And now he also understands the sorrow lingering in Cody’s eyes, the memories of a batchmate torn out of his grasp.

He lifts his head, gasping for air, and his eyes fall on his hands, blood smeared across his skin like ink. Shaking, breath catching, he scrubs his hands on the moss, desperate to lift the stains. It’s on his face, he realizes, rubbing wildly at it with the back of his hand. His forehead, his brow, all across his cheeks--

A branch snaps a few metres away, and Rex’s head shoots up. He scrambles for his blaster, searching the forest for a search party of droids, or a prowling nexu, teeth bared before it pounces.

A figure walks out of the undergrowth, hands raised. It’s General Kenobi, and Force, Rex looks a complete mess, armour scattered across the ground, face probably red and swollen with tears--

“I apologize for startling you. Rex, is it?” Kenobi draws closer, and how the kriff is he so clean? He looks as if there hadn’t been a battle at all, not a hair out of place, even though Rex had seen him, whirling through the fight with Skywalker at his side, like one of the tsunamis that plagued Tipoca City. Kenobi motions at the ground, a silent request to sit, and Rex nods, somewhat too vigorously.

When Kenobi is seated, Rex notices little details that he hadn’t spotted, the fraying sleeves of his robes, the pink stain on his thigh that is definitely blood, the slightly too bright edge to his eyes.

Kenobi looks at him, gaze searching, before he rips at the hem of his tunic, passing the rough fabric without a word.

Rex rubs at his hands, too embarrassed to address the mess on his face, but Kenobi rolls his eyes lightly, taking the cloth and spitting on it, before reaching over and rubbing it over Rex’s forehead, hard enough to work, but gently all the same. It’s a bizarre experience, but it takes Rex back to Kamino, when Wolffe had done the same, after Rex had cut his head open on a rock and the blood had dried along his temple. It’s comforting, to remember a moment of care, when he is receiving it once more.

“I was in a civil war as a child, on this little planet in the Outer Rim,” Kenobi says quietly. “I’d never actually been in war before, despite how much we’d studied it. And it was like a game at first, planning strategies and sharing dreams of what we’d do when we won. But then our base was bombed.

“There had been hundreds of us, all children or teens. But between one minute and the next, we were practically massacred.”

Rex frowns. “You were on Melida-Daan?”

Kenobi chuckles. “Sometimes I forget that you’d have been taught about events like that. Yes, it was Melida-Daan.” He grows somber, leaning forward. “The point is, I get it. There’s something about having them die in your arms. It changes you.”

Rex blinks, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. But tears come anyways, building and building until he is sobbing once more. He tries to apologize between tears, but Kenobi waves him away, placing a hand on his shoulder. Rex shudders as a wave of peace rolls through him, grounding him to the present, and preventing his grief from spiraling into panic. He’d known, vaguely, about the abilities of Jedi, but the proof of it is startling, used in such a kind and simple way.

“There’s no need to be sorry, I’m the one who brought it back up. I’d like to help you, if I can. Would you tell me about him? I understand you were batchmates.”

Rex hiccups, nodding. “He—we were. Cae is--was quiet, compared to me. Whenever I wanted to act without thinking, he was always there to calm me down, and to remind me about all the problems with diving in head first. He never really liked fighting, but we made a damn good team. When we found out we were both in Cody’s battalion, we were so excited. They—they usually split batches up completely. I think it was Cody’s doing, keeping us together.” Rex stops, eyes widening.

Kenobi laughs, “Don’t worry, nobody’s going to get in trouble with me. I’m glad that you weren’t alone.”

Rex cuts his gaze away. “Thank you, sir. If I may, why did you come out here?”

Kenobi smiles. “Cody’s worried about you. He wanted to come, but he had to speak with the Council. I said I’d find you.”

“He had to speak to the Council? Without you?”

“You underestimate your brother, my friend. I couldn’t fight this war without him. Besides, I wanted to meet the ARC trooper whom my Commander speaks of with such fondness.”

Kenobi stands, holding out a hand to help Rex up. Rex wonders when Cody grew so close to the Jedi, and how he’d grown to trust him so quickly. From what he’s seen, though, Kenobi might deserve it.

…

Rex’s quarters are barren, when he punches in the new code he’d been given, and steps inside. They look almost as they had when he’d first seen them, bags in hand, Anakin peering over his shoulder. It had been almost exciting then, a new home and a new title, a Captain for the freshly Knighted General Skywalker, but it is not exciting now. The sight of the closest thing he has to a home, stripped bare and left to grow dusty, is almost too much to handle. He drops his helmet to the floor, an act that would make most of his brothers gasp, and moves farther inside.

He’s not quite sure where his things are, or why they were taken. The entire operation on Zygerria had been a mess, a patchwork plan that had quickly dissolved into chaos. It’s not too surprising that they’d cleared his room out, when he and Obi-Wan had gone radio silent. There’s no time for sentimentality, in this war, and if his brothers hadn’t sorted through his things, some natborn officer would have.

Anakin would probably disagree with his flippancy, with how unwilling he was to complete the mission at their expense. Rex wonders, sometimes, how his General can be so good at war, and yet not understand it at all.

He can’t really move his head completely, neck muscles still seized up from the shock collar, so he turns in a circle to take in the entire room. Then, he sinks onto the bed, wincing at the way it stretches the wounds on his back, and takes a deep breath, relishing the way it makes his chest ache.

The silence is deafening, overwhelming, and Rex buries his face in his hands, covering his ears and pressing down until they ring. A lump forms in his throat, days of swallowed words clawing their way back up, and the first tears fall. They’re tears of relief, of safety after giving up any hope for rescue, of returning to the Resolute and to his men, but they’re also tears of long, drawn out hopelessness, of resignation and fear, of watching the confidence fade from Obi-Wan’s eyes, of throwing an electrostaff and hoping that it hurts when it finds its mark.

A sob breaks the silence, almost detached from himself, followed by another and another, until he is gasping for air, mind flashing with images of those electro-whips, of furnaces that burned, of little Togrutas curled up together, looking so much like Ahsoka, back when she was little--

The knock on his door is soft, hesitant, but Rex startles, straightening and desperately scrubbing at his face.

“Rex?” Anakin’s voice is softer than usual, almost meek. “Are you alright?”

Rex doesn’t have a chance to respond, to ask for a minute, before the door slides open.

He feels like a bantha in speederlights, when his eyes meet Anakin’s, and he nearly wants to laugh to see his own expression reflected back to him.

“Rex?” Anakin asks uncertainly, as if he’s not looking right at him. Rex nods, confused, and Anakin steps inside.

He cuts his gaze away as Anakin picks up his helmet, cradling it as he sits down next to Rex.

Anakin is tapping his leg up and down, fingers drumming random patterns onto his knee, and Rex wants to yell, wants to stand up and walk out, wants to get into the shower and feel the burning water on his back and sink to the floor and stop feeling those curious, tentative tendrils as Anakin pokes around his mind in that unintentional way of his.

The silence is tense for what feels like forever, before Anakin finally speaks, “When I lived on Tatooine, water meant something very different than it does everywhere else. Here, people say it’s cleansing, this great flood that washes away dirt and blood until everything is new again. But on Tatooine, water is rare. It meant survival, death and life. Water was a symbol of love, of giving something precious. It was used during weddings, the sharing of a glass, to show their desire to live and die for one another.” He chuckles, “There wasn’t much grey area on Tatooine.” He grows more solemn. “My mother used to say that water is healing, and that love is wishing to take someone’s pain from them. She did it for me, and I’d do it for you, if I could.”

Rex is well aware of how precious this story is, with how little Anakin discusses his childhood, and with the shadows that darkened his eyes the one time Obi-Wan had mentioned his mother. He looks over, wiping his eyes, and says, “I’m grateful, sir.” He accepts Anakin’s words, although he wants to say You can’t take my pain, or Obi-Wan’s. You can’t protect us from our duty, and we don’t want you to. All you can do is be there afterwards. But he’s tired, and he wouldn’t want to make Anakin close up again, after he’d shared a piece of himself, so instead he says, “I don’t know if water is healing, but I do hope it’s cleansing. I’m going to take a shower, if that’s alright.”

Anakin stands swiftly, Rex’s helmet held awkwardly in his hands. “Of course, Rex, I’m sorry for keeping you.”

It feels like there’s a stone in Rex’s stomach, like this conversation has turned into a series of miscommunications. “You didn’t, sir.” He’s not quite sure why he’s comforting Anakin now. “Is General Kenobi alright?”

Anakin looks away, down at Rex’s visor instead. “He’s in the medbay. Cody’s with him. I wanted to find you.”

Rex realizes that Anakin wishes to help, but doesn’t know how to say it. He racks his brain for what to do. “Sir, do you think you could help me get the chestplate off? I can’t reach the clasp.” He hasn’t actually tried to, but he imagines it would pull his muscles quite angrily. Zygerrian armour is way too complicated.

Anakin lights up. “Yes, I can get it!”

Rex hides a smile as Anakin searches for the snap, muttering about bad design and poor protection. When it’s off, fallen to the ground, Rex turns, “I can handle the rest, but I’ll need some help bandaging my back when I’m done showing, if you can?”

Anakin nods energetically. “Yes, of course!” He looks as if he’s going to offer to help Rex with the shower, so Rex cuts in immediately, “Also, do you think you could take a look at my HUD while you wait? The night-vision lens has been acting up.”

Agreeing happily, Anakin sets off to work. Rex feels a bit better, as he heads into the ‘fresher. He guesses it’s alright to accept help from Anakin, since it’s so obviously beneficial to them both.

…

Jesse’s face is bloody, but his expression is almost peaceful. It would almost look like he was sleeping after a battle, having passed over taking a shower like he always did, a stupid habit of his that drove Rex mad. It’s not a troubling sight, really, except for how pale his skin is, and for the steel shaft that gapes from his stomach.

“I should never have left.” Ahsoka lowers herself to kneel beside him.

Rex doesn’t look up, doesn’t respond, instead wiping his hand across Jesse’s helmet, against the Galactic Roundel, the symbol of a Republic that seems to have failed them from the very beginning.

“Oh, Jesse,” she breathes, reaching out a hand to wipe the blood from his head.

“Please don’t,” Rex says, sharper than he meant to. Ahsoka draws her hand back, brow furrowed.

Rex keeps his gaze down. “You can help me with the others, but I’d like to carry him by myself, please.”

“Of course.” Ahsoka stands, but hesitates. “I’m sorry, Rex.”

Rex clears his throat, but his voice is still gruff. “It’s not your fault. Obviously this was far beyond all of us.”

“Maybe, but that’s not what I mean. I shouldn’t have left you. If I’d been here--”

“You wouldn’t have fixed it!” Rex interrupts, looking up at Ahsoka. “The Council was tricked. Anakin, Mace, Yoda, they all believed the Chancellor, because why shouldn’t they. Nothing happened that wasn’t given a perfectly normal explanation. Fives was scared out of his kriffing mind, but it just sounded like he’d lost it.”

“Still, if I’d stayed...I was scared, and I didn’t know what I was fighting for anymore, but everything was falling apart, and I left all of you to try and keep it together without me.”

Rex doesn’t say anything, but he remembers when Anakin had told him Ahsoka was gone, jaw clenched and face closed off, and when Rex had sat in his room afterwards and wondered why he hadn’t mattered at all, wondered how Ahsoka could have left her men without a second thought. But he’d been so happy when she was returning, in hindsight so much like a massiff waiting for its owner, and they’d all painted their helmets for her--

He understands why she left, when he brushes aside all the hurt, but in the end, he had never gotten the same choice. None of the clones had.

Angry tears begin to fall, as he looks down at Jesse again, and he clenches his jaw to stop himself from screaming. “We should have killed them,” he chokes. “They all died anyways, why the kriff wouldn’t we just shoot them?”

Ahsoka falls to her knees, hard, ash rising in a cloud. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Rex, but none bigger than that. I was just so tired of having to make the tough calls. I told myself that I was saving them, but I was only saving myself.”

Rex sobs, pressing his forehead to Jesse’s chest. “I should have killed him. Who was I to act like some kriffing hero, taking the kriffing high road? I’m a soldier, I lead these men, they depend on me to make sure they die for the right reason.”

He feels a pressure on his back, but no presence in his mind, like he would have with Obi-Wan or Anakin. Ahsoka lets him have his grief and his loneliness, but she embraces him tightly when he turns to her. He’s grateful for that, though he’d give anything to know that Anakin is alright, or to hear Obi-Wan’s calm, steady voice. She says nothing as he cries, as he wipes his tears, as he carries Jesse to the hole he’s dug, but she is there, bound to him through their shared mistakes, and that means something, even if nothing else does anymore.

Rex, Pint-Sized Battlemaster

(Ben and Luke, Ahsoka, Rex, and Leia, Chrono)

Intensely on my mind right now: Rex’s weird role as just That Mando Kid Wandering The Temple in the Uncle Ben and Little Luke verse

He walks in on padawan strategy classes, looking all of ten or twelve years old, and just sits in the back. He waits. He audits. When someone complains about how they don’t need battlefield strategy classes, that they’re Jedi and there hasn’t been a war in so long, when the teacher is just exhaustedly explaining for the fifth time that Jedi are regularly called in to warzones, to negotiate ceasefires or extract Senate representatives, when the teacher tries to impress upon their students that reading a battlefield is important even if you don’t expect to lead a battle…

Rex just sets a dejarik board in front of the padawan, who’s twice his size and can tell that Rex is about as force-sensitive as a barely-more-than-null brick, and says, “If you can beat me, you can claim that you’re good enough at reading a battlefield to skip this class. If you can’t, you’re sticking around. Understand?”

The teacher didn’t agree to this ahead of time, but has seen Rex pull this on other people, including experienced knights and masters, and just. Gestures for them to go ahead. Fuck it! The weird Mando kid is capable of outmaneuvering highly-ranked masters, Force or no! Clearly he knows his shit!

Rex, seasoned battle commander that he is, with literal decades of training and experience, wins easily. The padawan is very upset. Rex doesn’t care, because in his mind, the padawan’s behavior was going to get brothers from Kamino killed fifteen years down the line.

And he just keeps on doing that, to the point where all the masters who run those kinds of classes on war and strategy and tactics just reach out to Ben like “Hey… is this kid legit or just hyperfocused on the subject or–” “He grew up in a military cult.” “…” “For reasons I cannot disclose, yes, he’s legitimately more experienced in this field than most field-ready Jedi masters. Just be glad the military cult in question wasn’t Kyr’tsad, honestly.”

“ c'mere. let me give you a hug. “ with Kix and Rex maybe, please?

Thanks for asking, anon! The ending references my fic Golden Heart because I can’t resist an opportunity to reference it :)

——————

Kix stood outside Rex’s quarters, staring at the door as though it had done something to offend him. He was hesitant to knock on the door, and he’d never been hesitant before, but…

But, after Umbara, Kix was hesitant to approach anyone, especially Rex.

Umbara took a toll on everyone. Kix could see it in the way everyone held themselves. Their energies were slightly subdued. Tup seemed lost with Dogma gone, and Fives had taken to the young trooper pretty quickly. Fives liked to help people in order to distract himself from his own problems and, well, there were worse coping mechanisms out there. Kix would have to talk to him at some point to make sure he was actually addressing his own issues.

Jesse had taken things hard, too. Losing Hardcase was rough on both Jesse and Kix because he was their batchmate. They were working through their grief together, and it would be a long process, but at least they weren’t alone.

Shaking himself out of his musings, Kix thought back to the matter at hand. He was standing outside of Rex’s door, fist hovering just a few inches away from knocking. He knew that Rex was also struggling with his own guilt for everything that happened in Umbara. Kix thought he could help.

Kix remembered with great clarity the moment that he snapped at Rex and accused him of acting like General Krell when Rex ordered him to leave the injured behind.

The guilt of that interaction was hanging like an albatross around Kix’s neck. Looking back on it, he realized that Rex had been put in an impossible situation where he had to mediate between his men, his brothers, and a leader whose entire goal was to get them killed. Rex was right, too— Kix had to survive and carry on because if he wasn’t alright, then there would‘ve been no one else to take care of other injured brothers.

Kix knew he had to apologize for his outburst, both for his own ease of mind and for Rex’s. Still, he hesitated, and was about to turn on his heel and come back another time when the door to Rex’s quarters slid open, and the captain himself stood in the doorway. He jumped a bit upon seeing Kix there, obviously not having been aware of his presence just beyond his walls.

“Sir,” Kix said, slowly lowering his fist from where it was poised to knock on the door, “may I have a word with you?”

Rex furrowed his brows together but nodded and gestured to have Kix enter his quarters.

The room was in disarray. Rex’s armor was skewed about the room in a disorderly fashion, which was uncharacteristic for his usual organized room. There were datapads strewn about the floor as well, all incomplete paperwork that had to be filled out in the aftermath of a battle.

Kix didn’t comment on any of this, and instead stood in the corner of the room, looking at his feet and fiddling with the sleeve of his body glove.

There was silence between the pair for a few moments. Rex sat himself on his unmade bed and regarded Kix with a blank expression, not that Kix noticed his gaze, as focused on the ground as he was.

Finally, Kix took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry.” He was startled, then, upon realizing that Rex had said the same thing in sync with him.

“Sir? What do you have to apologize for?” Kix asked.

“The… the campaign as a whole. I let you all down, and you had to bear the brunt of so many unfair situations. I never should ordered you to leave those men behind. That’s not what we’re trained to do, and I asked you to do it anyway. So, I’m sorry.” Rex explained, now looking at the ground instead of at Kix.

Kix scoffed, “Sir, Rex, I don’t blame you for that. I’m sorry for comparing you to General Krell in that moment. You are nothing like him, and I just said that because I was tired and frustrated. I know you were put in a ridiculously tough scenario and… it’s been weighing on you as much as it’s been weighing on me, maybe even more.”

Rex just sniffed and nodded slowly. He glanced at Kix and let a slight smile grace his face, “C’mere. Let me give you a hug.” He said, holding out his arm as an invitation.

Kix sighed dramatically and sat down on the bed next to Rex, leaning into and returning his older brother’s embrace.

“You’re never going to let me forget that I gave you a hug when I was still in medic training, are you?” Kix said with a sigh.

Rex laughed, “Oh, definitely not. But, hey, I think this hug is helping, so maybe the research you did back then wasn’t all for nothing.”

“Damn straight.” Kix said with a huff. Rex let out a laugh at that, and Kix allowed himself a chuckle, too.

Umbara left wounds on them all, but… they would heal with time (and maybe a few hugs, too).

Cramps

It's Alastor's "time of the month", and he's afraid that people will find out. Of course, it's just his luck that his pad leaks... and Lucifer is the one to notice.

(This may be OOC, as it's based on our Alastor and Lucifer fictives)

Pairing: Radioapple (can be read as platonic, queerplatonic, or romantic)

Warnings: menstruation, internalized transphobia, T slur (said by a trans person + author is trans), smoking weed

this is the first fic we've written in a long time, apologies if it's bad lmao

-

Alastor sighs as he steps out onto the roof of the Hazbin Hotel. He leans against the wall and lights a cigarette, staring out at the city.

His smile slips ever so slightly as yet another cramp shoots through him.

"Ugh..."

Alastor quickly masks his pained expression as he hears a footstep behind him. He immediately recognizes the click of those heels.

"Hello, Lucifer." He turns to face the King of Hell.

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. "Alastor. I didn't take you for a smoker."

Alastor takes a drag from his cigarette. "Well, I am."

He turns away, wishing Lucifer would just leave him alone. He's in no mood to talk.

He silently curses as Lucifer leans against the wall next to him.

"You look even more tense than normal."

"And you're being even more annoying than normal." Alastor's annoyance is clear in his eyes, despite his unwavering smile. "Would it be too much to ask to be left alone?"

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. He recognizes the discomfort in Alastor's voice.

"Fine, then." He starts to leave, then turns back to say something else... but something catches his eye.

Alastor glances over at Lucifer. "What are you staring at?"

Lucifer clears his throat. "You, uh... got a little something."

Alastor's eyes widen when he realizes where Lucifer is looking. He immediately takes his coat off and ties it around his waist. "Leave me alone."

Lucifer nods and leaves.

Alastor is mortified. He tosses his cigarette and disappears into his shadow, appearing in his room. He goes straight into the bathroom and strips his pants off. His pad is entirely soaked.

"Damn it..."

He quickly fills his sink with cold water and dunks his soiled pants into it. He sprays some hydrogen peroxide on the stain and gently washes it out.

Alastor puts on some clean pants and a fresh pad. He's hanging the wet pants on the shower rod to dry when he hears the door open.

"So this is why you've been so pissy."

Alastor immediately shoves Lucifer out of the bathroom and locks the door. "Get out!"

Lucifer is too caught off guard to fight back. He just stands there, staring at the door.

Alastor leans against the door and sinks down to the ground, feeling humiliated.

---

That night, Alastor curls up in bed, unable to sleep. He's cramping too bad, and the painkillers he took aren't doing anything. He just lays there, in a fetal position, hoping he'll just conk out already.

A knock sounds at the door, and Alastor groans. He gets up, takes a deep breath, puts on a smile, and opens the door.

"Lucifer. I should have known."

Lucifer pushes his way into the room. Alastor simply collapses back down onto the bed, too exhausted to argue.

"Alastor, when are you going to learn to ask for help?" Lucifer sits on the bed next to Alastor.

"...I don't need help. You worry even more than your daughter does."

Lucifer sighs and pulls the blanket off of Alastor's face, revealing his pained expression. "The tears in your eyes tell me otherwise."

It's true, there are tears welling up in Alastor's eyes. He curls up completely, as if trying to hide in himself.

Alastor suddenly feels something being pressed against his abdomen. He flinches slightly, but then he realizes that it's... warm?

"What is this?"

Lucifer sits back down. "A heating pad. It'll help the cramps."

Alastor lays there for a moment, feeling that the heat is indeed helping. He's realizing how caring Lucifer is being, and it makes him feel... safe.

"...thank you."

Lucifer gently rubs Alastor's arm. "I just don't get how someone can be so stubborn that they just suffer in silence."

Alastor weighs his options. Should he trust Lucifer with his feelings?

"...fine. You want to know why I don't trust anyone?" He sits up and looks at Lucifer nervously.

Lucifer nods slightly.

Alastor takes a deep breath. "Do you have any idea how much power I would lose if people knew what I'm really like?"

"Alastor, what are you-"

"I only have power because I'm feared. Do you realize how many people would just look down on me if it came out that I'm a tranny that can't handle a period cramp?" Alastor stops as he realizes he's crying.

Lucifer gently takes his hand. "Take a breath. I'm not going to tell anyone you're trans, okay?"

Alastor hiccups and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Why wouldn't you? Plenty of people would jump at the opportunity to take me down like that."

"Alastor, you should know by now that I'm not like that. Sure, I fight with you a lot, but I'd never out you like that."

Alastor just pulls the blanket back over himself and curls up with the heating pad. The hormones from his period are making him emotional, but he's already overwhelmed by how vulnerable he feels.

Lucifer just sighs. He snaps his fingers, and in his hand appears a blunt.

"Here. This'll help the pain, and call you down."

Alastor looks at it, taking a breath. "...well, alright..."

The two of them share the blunt, and Alastor quickly calms down.

"Thank you, Lucifer... I think I might be able to sleep now."

Lucifer gently tucks Alastor in, pleased that he managed to help him.

"Sleep well, Al."

Fic Masterlist

This is so that they’re all in one place on tumblr! These aren’t in any particular order other than the one that I thought of them in as I was writing out the titles in this post. The links and summaries are below the cut! I hope this is helpful! As I write more, I’ll be sure to keep this updated.

Multi-Chapter Fics:

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead — The 501st suffered a devastating blow on Umbara with the loss of Captain Rex at the hands of Pong Krell.

Rex doesn’t understand why he’s still around after having died, but he realizes that he might be able to use this to the advantage of all of his brothers.

Or: Rex is a ghost, and he’s just as confused about it as everyone else is.

Mars AU — A role-reversal AU in which Rex gets caught in the explosion at the Citadel and is experimented on by the Techno Union, and Echo is promoted to Captain of the 501st. This series explores what would be different and what would stay the same.

Losing Track (of What We’re Fighting For) — the first installment, which spans from Rex’s rescue through Order 66

Cool Clone Commanders (+ a Slightly Less Cool Captain) — A series of missing scenes and brotherly shenanigans during Losing Track (of What We’re Fighting For)

Brand New War Begins — Order 66 has been executed and the galaxy is in shambles. In an attempt to pick up some of the pieces, Rex and Echo split into groups on missions to save those who may have survived. Meanwhile, two lost souls run into each other and the future of the galaxy is drastically changed as a result.

One Shots:

Golden Heart — Kix has always wanted to help his brothers; that’s why he’s always wanted to be a medic. One day, when he’s first starting his medical training, he helps a blond cadet with a concussion. Years later, after the war has begun, history repeats itself.

A Bit of Tin — Echo notices a familiar medal on display in the Bad Batch’s ship and asks them about it. It leads to a conversation about their old batchmates.

When You Let it Leave, it Can’t Hurt You — The Bad Batchers find a holopic in their barracks when they return to Kamino after a mission. It holds nothing but bittersweet and painful memories for Echo, but he eventually learns that just because it hurts doesn’t mean he should forget.

Promotion — When Anakin Skywalker is Knighted, Rex is given a promotion as well, much to his surprise.

Homecoming — After the Clone War ended with the reveal of Chancellor Palpatine as a Sith Lord, Fives and Echo get the reunion that they deserved all along. The rest of Domino Squad joins in on the fun.

Comfort — Kix has been awake for nearly 24 hours trying to save as many brothers as he could. A breakdown was inevitable. Luckily, Echo is really great at comforting brothers who are hurting.

Tackling Grievous — Cody tackles Grievous yet again, and Rex comms him to give him a piece of his mind. Obi-Wan’s enjoying this far too much for his own good.

Keep Your Eyes Open — Cody gets a concussion during a battle, but luckily Rex is there to make sure he stays awake.

I Know You — “This is not who you are. I know you better than that.”

Anakin says these words to Ahsoka on Mortis. Years later, Ahsoka says them to Anakin on Malachor.

What’s in a Name — Fives has been in ARC training for 2 weeks when he runs into Clone Force 99, who are preparing to ship out of Kamino for their first mission.

Or: Fives meets Clone Force 99 and accidentally gives them their other name.

Where I Confess My Doubt — A supply run takes Ghost Crew to Umbara. Everyone’s worried about Rex.

A Great Man — To Rex, Fives was a great man, and great men deserve to be remembered. *Ao3 link here*

The One Left Behind — In which Death watches a particular clone captain repeatedly lose, and still continue to fight.

Only Time Will Tell — The clones wake up with memories of their lives up to their deaths only a few weeks before Kenobi was due to arrive on Kamino in the original timeline. Rex stays strong for his brothers— he has to. But who will stay strong for him? *will likely end up being a series of oneshots*

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s04e13 Escape From Kadavo, Implied/Referenced Torture, Whipping, Caretaking, Platonic Cuddling, Protective CC-2224 | Cody, CC-2224 | Cody Has Issues, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, CT-7567 | Rex Whump, Hurt CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody has PTSD, Clone Trooper Mistreatment (Star Wars), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slavery, Exhaustion, Aftermath of Torture Summary:

Cody and Rex after Kadavo.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38513596

Another one on ao3!!!!

Rex, trying to give a motivational speech but then it evolved into him casualty talking about his really really fucked up cadethood:

“-I mean yeah all the other kids bullied me, hated me even, and no one liked me or even came near me. Come to think of it I did get shuffled around a lot, but that’s just because my entire original batch was decommissioned. And yeah I did have a lot of near death experiences, but I only needed to be resuscitated a handful of times. Ha, there was that one time a trainer threw me off a platform because they were sick of dealing with all my paperwork, but I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and hauled myself out of the ocean. You know what they say; you want something done you gotta do it yourself, because no one else is going to do it for you! I think I came out the other side just fine and I’m stronger because of it! :)”

The entire 501st: “…whAT THE FUUUUUCK!”

what's your favorite gelphie fic?

OOF just one is so hard. here's a few of my favs. though more than being my favorite fics these are my favorite gelphie authors so assume i love everything they've posted!

The Love Club by OrkButch. just delightful. extremely queer and extremely heartfelt. and it has my favorite things ever like grief, healing, learning to be in a relationship, and nuanced portrayals of elphaba & nessa's dynamic. very formative to my perception of book!elphie, i learned a lot about her with this fic even if it's a modern AU!

Wiretapped Life by tinyace. another fic that has aaaaaaall of my favorite things like grief, healing, learning to be in a rel--- you get the gist. also it has nor! more fics should have nor! no but seriously this fic is incredible and has some of the best explorations i've seen on asexuality, aromanticism, gender, queer platonic relationships, and how to navigate a shitload of trauma in a cruel world when you have so much love to give. the gelphie dynamic is so nuanced and the worldbuilding is so intriguing and well done and glinda is a poor little meow meow and agh. could talk about this one forever. also if you've read attrition you will like this one, it has so many similar themes sam and i are always joking our brains are the same lol

The Last True Eminent Thropp by Ridiculous Mavis. ask any gelphie fan who was here before november 2024 for their favorite gelphie fics and they will probably mention ridiculous mavis. read everything on her page, seriously. yes even if it's ff dot net. do it. do it right now. this one is my favorite of hers!

Per Aspera Ad Astra (Through Hardships Towards the Stars) by show_me_the_universe. this one is still unfinished but i have enjoyed it so much! gelphie are so cute and so teenagers and they go through so much and their dynamic with each other is the sweetest thing. also has great dynamics between the charmed circle which it's also one of my favorite things :)

Aftermath by narta_shall_survive. another one where glinda is a poor little meow meow. i read this fic like a year ago and brother it has stuck with me. i love the way glinda is written and it has my FAVORITEEE glinda & crope dynamic. also it blends musical and book in such a smooth way and the prose is so crunchy.

and my saint, she is dancing by Mayverix. this one is extremely clever and soo well written. i adore this author's prose so much. made me ache in the best way possible. the way book!gelphie is captured here is just superb.

oh and of course i love the classics aka gretchenmaurice's works. all of them from the long ones to the most recent ones :)

now!!! i haven't read too many movie fics (yet) but here are two that stuck with me and that i love and have very much informed the way i see and write the movieverse gelphie dynamic.

the faint of heart by Verannode. vampire!galinda. and if that wasn't enough she totally thinks she's in some sort of romcom while elphaba is in a supernatural mystery or something. it's just the best thing ever. the dialogue is so whimsical and hilarious and galinda is incredibly delusional and dramatic and i love her. i've reread this a bunch of times it always makes me laugh.

PERENNIAL by anaphoruh. no joke this fic is one of my favorite ones ever. it's just so. i can't even explain it the way its written scratches my brain in the BEST way imaginable. the prose is so elegant and smooth i want to study it. it's the perfect blend of book and MOVIE which i didn't think was possible. the descriptions are so fun and engaging. the gelphie dynamic is delicious. galinda is insanely rich and elphie is her sugar baby in the most lowkey way possible. i adore it.

now not related to the movie at all. last but not least. there is Emerald City Lies by Beta Nova. listen to me. i would never recommend a fic on ff dot net that was last updated in 2016 if it wasn't worth it. i started reading this fic on a plane and it was so good i literally had to stop reading it so i could savor it. made myself read only one chapter a day and yes it's unfinished and yet i reread it once a year. it's so good.

anyway! thanks for asking <3

Call of the Sea

Chapter 5 - Revelations Read on AO3

Summary: Ashla climbed the ladder. It gave her enough height to comfortably reach over the side of the tank. Rex rose slowly toward her, keeping eye contact as his head broke the surface.

Words: 2629

Warning: physical violence (nothing graphic)

 **********

 One of the men in red and gold livery was waiting for her when Ashla pulled up to Palpatine’s mansion. He opened the front door for her, then followed as she headed for the seascape hallway.

 “This way, miss,” the man said. “He’s in the lab.”

 Ashla’s gut clenched. That didn’t sound good at all.

 The man led her through a new hallway, through a door that led outside to a wide expanse of lawn.

 “What’s your name?” Ashla asked, trying to distract herself from the growing unease crawling up her spine.

 The man gave her a surprised look, then said, “Thire.”

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