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#ct 3636
pacificwaternymph · 2 months
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Bad Batch enjoyers right now.
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ireadwithmyears · 4 months
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You know what quote from rebels makes me sob every time?
“It was an honour to serve with you, Rex. It was an honour to fight with you for something that /we chose/ to believe in.”
~Captain Gregor
The clones, from their very creation, were made to be expendable. Given numbers instead of names, raised to be stripped of their humanity, nothing but soldiers that would die for the republic without a second thought. And as we see in the final shot of the clone wars, that was the fate of most of them. Most clones lived and died as pons, their helmets buried in the snow representing their forgotten sacrifice. They were never given a choice, in anything.
But Gregor, and Rex, and  Wolffe do. They have a choice to keep fighting. And they take it, not because of any blind loyalty to a now nonexistent republic. They choose to keep fighting because they believe in the rebellion and what it stands for. And that’s the beauty of it, they *choose*, for the first time.  Because in spite of the fact that from birth, the Kaminoens tried to erase their individuality and what makes them human. They grow to become the most human of characters, with their own personalities, thoughts, and beliefs, that for the first time, they freely get to express.
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littlefeatherr · 2 years
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Captain Rex, Marshal Commander Cody, Commander Wolffe and Captain Gregor in The Clone Wars-style by Cinteltex
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sev-on-kamino · 6 months
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✨Cadet Daze: The CCs Are Too Observant✨
Summary: Your ongoing war with Alpha-17 has not gone unnoticed by the cadets in your care, and they have questions.
Players: Medic!Reader, cadet!Wolffe, cadet!Fox, mentions of Alpha-17 and cadet!Rex
Rating: G (but this page is still 18+ only, so MINORS DNI)
Warnings: Swears, cute & fluffy, totally safe for Costco though 😌
A/N: This is in the same timeline as this post (it’s incredibly NSFW!), and while I likely won’t do a concentrated long fic, keep an eye out for more one shots 💙💙
Word count: 281
Dividers by the talented @dystopicjumpsuit 🤩
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The CCs in your care were honestly quite adorable. 3636 had twisted his ankle during training, and needed to go to the med bay, which meant that 1010 also needed to go to the med bay for a life-threatening stomach ache that he had just noticed. That he was holding 3636’s hand, as they both clutched your sleeve was completely unrelated.
With Alpha, they were soldiers always. With you, they were children, who needed to be reminded that kind touches were valuable too, so 3636 was being treated to a rare piggyback ride through the stark white halls of Tipoca City.
“MoMo?” 3636 asked quietly, using the nickname that 7567 had given you much to Alpha’s eternal irritation.
“Yes, kiddo,” you replied.
“Why do you and Alpha fight so much?”
Before you could answer, 1010 piped up and said, “‘Cause MoMo says he’s an asshole!”
“Where did you get that language?” You asked, trying to hide your smile.
“From you. I heard you say it to Lama Su the other day,” He replied with his signature smirk.
“Eavesdropping again, huh?”
“It’s fun!” He giggled.
“Is that the only reason?” 3636 asked, undeterred.
“We disagree on what’s best for you boys, but ultimately that’s what we both want. We’ll figure it out,” you answered.
“If you both want the same thing, shouldn’t you try being friends?”
“Ad’ika, have you memorized all the components to a light cruiser, as well as you’ve memorized all of the problems Alpha and I have to work on?”
“Yes! I can tell you all of them right now!”
He launched into the list, sparing you from further questioning as the three of you continued down the corridor.
***
taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @the-bad-batch-baroness @mooncommlink @1vlouds @moonlightwarriorqueen @starqueensthings @dangraccoon @idoubleswearimawriter @wizardofrozz @trixie2023
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wizardofrozz · 7 months
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Fire and Rain
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Commander Wolffe x GN!reader, OC Sawbones
Word Count: ~1.6k
Warnings: war, death, mention of violence, grief, soft Wolffe
A/N: I had a bad day and all I want is to listen to the rain while Wolffe comforts me. So that's how this fic came to be lmao. I hope you enjoy 🖤
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Humanitarian missions were some of your favorites. You spent most of your time in the medbay, patching up troopers and avoiding the piercing eyes of the CMO. These missions allowed you to get off the Venator, to see something other than cold durasteel walls or Coruscant’s light-polluted skyline. Although, it wasn’t all joy and happiness. 
The small village was still smoking, crumbled buildings littering the streets. What was once a quaint town had been reduced to ash and rubble. Family homes and community trademarks were unrecognizable and the occupants could only stand by and stare longingly. 
The 104th had been tasked with delivering supplies, offering medical assistance, and searching for hazardous materials from the crash. The Separatist ship had broken apart in the atmosphere but it was close enough for it to start raining down debris on the unsuspecting villagers shortly after. You glanced around as the Wolfpack made their way into the heart of the town, your eyes lingering on the tents scattered around. A small child stood at the edge of the road, wide-eyed wonder written all over his face as troopers wandered past. His young face was streaked with soot but nothing could dampen the amazement shining in his bright eyes.
“Hey.” You jumped, turning toward the voice only to stare back at your own reflection in his visor. You couldn’t fight the urge to glance back at the child one last time before giving Wolffe your undivided attention. 
“Yes, Commander,” you replied, hoping the smile you offered didn’t look as forced as it felt. Even if you couldn’t see them, you could feel Wolffe’s eyes studying your face and you did your best not to buckle under the weight. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Wolffe replied and if you weren’t walking so close, you would’ve missed his soft sigh. Wolffe subtly turned his head, glancing around at the troopers walking in loose formation around him. The ghost of a smile crossed your face when you felt the muted brush of his fingers against your arm. 
“I’m alright,” you murmured, lightly bumping into him.
“For now,” he replied, almost quiet enough for you to miss. And he was right. Each step deeper into the smoldering remains of the village made your heart sink a little more. You took a long, deep breath, grimacing at the burnt taste that seemed to linger on your tongue. The second brush against your arm had you peering over at Wolffe, staring into his dark visor again as you blindly found his hand. He squeezed your fingers, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone and you cherished the contact. 
It was going to be a long day.
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It felt like you were going to fall over with the slightest gust of wind. Most of your day consisted of patching up the wounded in between passing out supplies. Everyone from children to the elderly had passed through your tent and each new person felt like another gut punch, draining more of your resolve. 
You glanced over your shoulder, noting that Sawbones was moving a bit slower too, and you braced your hands on the table in front of you. Staying in the med tent had let you keep your blinders on, saving yourself the heartache of watching of few of your boys carrying the lifeless bodies out of the rubble but you weren’t sure if it was actually better. Instead of seeing who you couldn’t save, you had to look into the eyes of the people they left behind. A small part of you found joy in helping them but nothing could take away the veil of grief that seemed the blanket them all. 
A harsh whistle cut through the air, making you jump hard enough to knock a box of bacta patches to the floor. You twisted around to find Sawbones watching you, his eyes narrowed slightly. 
“Yes, Bones,” you huffed, resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms. 
“What’s wrong with you?” You were too drained to contain your eye rolls, although, Sawbones’ blunt nature was nothing new to you. 
“Long day, same as you,” you replied, arching a brow. 
“That’s not all,” he countered, squinting at you. “Sp-” 
The sudden roar of voices from outside cut off the rest of his sentence and you both straightened. You shared a confused look with him before you broke into a jog with Sawbones on your heels. You sputtered the second you stumbled outside, blinking rapidly as you looked upward. The sky was hazing, a thick fog hanging over the village as rain pelted the ground, extinguishing the last of the fires littering the area. It took a few seconds for you to realize that the noise you had heard was the villagers celebrating. 
People of all ages were standing outside, smiling and cheering, rain soaking them to the bone but that didn’t seem to matter. Something as simple as a storm that, to you, would’ve felt like another kick to the face brought such joy to a village that nearly burned to the ground. You looked to your left, meeting Sawbones’ eyes before he looked out over the celebrating villagers. You could’ve sworn there was a faint smile on his face.
“Go rest. There’s nothing else we can do for them,” Sawbones murmured without looking at you. 
You thought about staying there but the rain was picking up, steadily soaking your clothing. Walking through the pockets of people filling the streets brought a wistful smile to your face, a smile that only grew as you watched the wolfpack join in. You found a supply tent on the edge of the settlement and ducked inside, shaking off any excess water clinging to your clothing.
The fabric of your shirt stuck to your skin, sending a chill across your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around at the crates of supplies, brightening a bit when you caught a glimpse of a GAR-issued blanket. The fabric was rough, meant for warmth over comfort but it was better than nothing. You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders as you wandered to the front of the tent again, holding the edges of the blanket under your chin so you could roll one of the flaps up. 
Lightning spiderwebbed across the sky, followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder that seemed to vibrate through your bones. There were easily a dozen things you could be doing but something about watching the unmatchable power of Mother Nature had you captivated. 
You were so absorbed in watching the rain that you didn’t hear the faint rustle from over your shoulder. A choked-off gasp fell from your lips and you tensed against the arms that wrapped around you. Your sluggish brain spiraled for a moment until you recognized the familiar vambraces and you sagged against him. 
“Hiding from all the fun, sweetheart,” Wolffe rumbled, kissing the crown of your head. 
“Says the man wearing a body glove that keeps him dry,” you teased, leaning back against Wolffe. 
“Mostly dry,” he corrected, his voice muffled as he hid his face against your neck. 
“Oh sorry, mostly dry.” The stress of your day still weighed heavily on you but the familiar press of Wolffe’s armor against your back brought you more comfort than you realized. A small smile lifted the corner of your mouth when he started to gently sway and you reached up to card through his damp hair. 
“How are you, darling?” And if that wasn’t a loaded question. You sighed, resting your temple against his head, letting yourself get lost in the rhythmic side-to-side movement for a moment. 
“I don’t know,” you finally confessed. Wolffe grunted quietly, urging you to continue. “I wish I could’ve done more.”
“You couldn’t have,” he argued gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I know,” you whispered, letting your hand slip out of his hair and down his face. Your fingers brushed the end of his scar and you leaned away, twisting around enough to see his face. 
“Hey, cyare,” he murmured with a half-smile. 
“Hey,” you breathed, resting your forehead against his with a sigh and letting your eyes fall shut.
“I know you wish you could save everyone,” Wolffe mumbled, pausing to kiss your nose, “but you can’t. However, you did a whole lot of good for the people that are still here.”
“You think so?” You squeezed your eyes shut as you turned to face him, loosely hugging his waist. 
“I know so,” Wolffe said with so much conviction that you had a hard time not believing him. You hugged him a little tighter when he shifted and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “That bleeding heart of yours is one of the many reasons I love you.” 
“So you do have a list.” Wolffe’s quiet snort brought a smile to your face. The light tap on the underside of your chin had your eyes fluttering open, staring up at his mismatched eyes. There was a fond little smile on his lips as his eyes flickered around your face. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Before you could answer with another lighthearted remark, Wolffe leaned down, finding your lips with ease. It was a tender kiss yet it held an intensity that you’d come to expect from Wolffe. You broke the kiss when your lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, and you rested your forehead against his again. 
“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“I love you too.” Wolffe pecked your lips, starting to sway gently again, the pitter-patter of rain on the canvas tent acting as a melody.
The stress and heartache weren’t gone, far from it, but in that moment, wrapped in the arms of the man you loved, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise of a future that made all the pain worth it.
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Taglist: @a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar (I thought you might like this 🫣)
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kbirbpods · 2 months
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[Podfic Link] | Length: 10 minutes, 7 seconds
Original Work: That Feline Feeling by Project0506 [ @thefoundationproject ]
Clone Wars: Cody, Rex, Ponds, Bly, Wolffe, Obi-Wan | Rating: T
Summary: 
When Wolffe's Jedi brings trinkets back from temples, bad things happen. (AU of Soft Wars AU)
Notes: posted for @codyday2224 and my first Soft Wars silly sides podfic!
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eleinemk · 2 months
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I am shaking, I am crying, I am not okay!
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Wolffe! Ventress! Crosshair's home!
I'm not okay! Crosshair looks so broken in that hallway😢
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enigmatist17 · 10 months
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"Try again, this time focus on keeping your stance tight."
"Yes sir." There is the clacking of training sticks for a few minutes before a loud thump, and a score buzzer rang out through the training room.
"Improvement, but you can do better."
"Yes sir." 7567 sighed, getting up to his feet with a wince. Sweat is dripping off his brow as the cadet stands, and he has barely a moment to breathe before his opponent strikes, deflecting the blow as he stepped back. He doesn't move as fast as the man he's facing, but 7567 does his best to not waver as he dodges and strikes the few chances he can, but eventually is once again tripped onto his back.
"Much better." Commander Neyo offers his hand, and helps the younger clone up and onto his feet. "You've earned a rest, go get a drink." 7567 nodded and went to fetch his canteen, sitting down on the floor with a relieved sigh. His muscles are all aching as he sips his water, but 7567 is proud that he's becoming stronger and stronger with his training.
It had been a little over two months since Kamino had been taken over by his fellow ori'vod, and the facilities had begun to feel akin to a home. It wasn't uncommon to see Jetti more and more these days, and there were rumors that some of the unfinished living areas were being converted into a mini Temple for them, which was quite exciting for the younger clones. Battalions and squads from all over made it a point to try and swing by when they could, often acting as couriers from other groups to bring things that could be used to decorate the facilities or bring a view of the universe to awestruck cadets and the eager shinies. 7567 watched it all happen in the background, or as much as he could with everyone knowing he'd become close with the various commanders that visited when they could.
"Come, another half hour, and then you're free to go." Neyo had been the one allowed to stay the longest so far, and while he wasn't affection as Bly, or gentle as Monnk, 7567 could see early on the commander's own way he showed his care. He knew a lot of the deployed troopers would mutter comments about how cold and uncaring the commander was, but he had never really felt that Neyo was like that.
By the end of the half-hour, 7567 is exhausted, but pleased to have remained upright this round, grinning as he gathered up his canteen and a small towel to wipe away his sweat.
"Would you like to join me for dinner ori'vod?" 7567 hoped he wasn't being too direct, waiting until the duo had left the training room to ask. "I have an area where the others won't be able to watch us eat."
"If you wish." 7567 smiled, and darted off to go shower, leaving the commander to break off and do the same in his temporary officers' quarters. It had been one of Lama Su's random conference rooms that were never used, Neyo taking a small joy from throwing out the furniture into the hallway. Said room was half of a construction site, as he was in the process of hand-building a bathroom and kitchenette for use when he would rotate in and out.
He despised the clinical way the Kaminoians insisted on decorating everything from equipment to clothing.
7567 is waiting patiently for him outside of Neyo's room when the commander steps out, holding a tray of food for both of them.
"You remembered what I enjoy." The cadet nods as Neyo takes his tray, and begins to follow 7567 through the halls.
"Commander Fox said he would teach me how to cook when he comes back." The cadet is practically beaming at the idea. "I hope he's okay, he hasn't been really answering my comms lately, but I know he's busy."
"Mhm." Neyo made a note to check in on Fox later on, trailing 7567 as he takes the other up to the highest level of the facility, setting his tray down to pull open a door that had been locked up at some point.
"Come on, this has one of the best views." Picking his tray back up, 7567 leads Neyo into the dark room and towards the giant window that spanned one side of the room. The commander can see there are some cots littered around what must have been a storage room at one time, and realizes it was most likely a batches hiding spot from the longnecks, of which he knew there were quite a few around Tipoca. The window did overlook quite a bit of the landing platforms of Tipoca, and can picture eager eyes watching ships taking on and off day after day.
"Nice view." 7567 nodded as he took a seat at a table right up against the window, and Neyo joins him after nudging some cushions aside.
"One of my batchmates found it, took us weeks to get all this stuff in here." The younger hummed as he bit into a fruit, glancing up at some writing scratched into the glass. "We used to come whenever we had our free day, but got caught near...near the end."
"I see." Neyo leans forward, and gives 7567 a gentle pat to the top of his head that he was growing used to. "They did well."
"Yea, didn't they?" The younger smiles weakly, and for a few minutes, they eat in silence, listening to the landing and departure of a few ships below.
"What does this mean?" 7567 glances over when Neyo speaks, and sees he's pointing at something etched into the glass.
"The R E X S I? They were the initials of some ARC troopers we earned some lessons from." The younger smiled fondly at the memory, and Neyo continues to stare at the initials for a spell before looking at the cadet.
"I will call you Rex. While...not what they inferred, your batchmates left a name for you."
"...what?" Neyo watches as 7567 stares, wide eyes trained on him as he disgests the information. "Are..you're serious?"
"Yes."
"Rex...Rex." The name sounds foreign at first, almost seeming fit for some other clone that hadn't grown into his namesake. "Rex...I like it."
"Thought as much. Now the others can stop bickering." 75-no, Rex, looked up in confusion, as Neyo sips his drink.
"They were fighting about my name?" Rex can't help the grin that breaks out, and Neyo rolled his eyes. "Who was winning?"
"No one, though Cody went to speak with the Jedi for an idea. He most likely would have succeeded." Rex grinned, a smile that didn't leave his face until the two separated for the evening. Neyo could hear Rex excitedly sharing his name as he walked away with any clone in sight, and a faint smirk pulls at his lips as he pulls out his data pad.
<Neyo>: Kid has a name now.
<Cody>: What???
<Wolffe>: You DID NoT
<Wolffe>: NEYO
<Fox>: It better be good.
<Cody>: I agree
<Bly>: What is it??? I want to know!
<Neyo>: Rex
<multiple CC's are typing>
<Ponds>: I like it, where's it from?
<Fox>: Rex?
<Cody>: Rex, suits him.
<Wolffe>: ......it's good
<Bly>: I can't wait when the others log in :]
<Gree>: A name???
Neyo watches as the others continue to banter, but none of them seemed to dislike the name.
Worked for him.
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clonemando · 2 months
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And Threes Makes Three
Rex and Wolffe finally get to bring home the Cadet they're adopting together.
or read it here, under the cut:
important tags:
CT-7567 | Rex/CC-3636 | Wolffe
implied Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi/ARC-77 | Fordo
Adoption
Domestic Fluff
Rex and Wolffe adopt a Cadet Together
Disabilities
Cloneshipping | Clone Trooper/Clone Trooper Relationships (Star Wars)
Canon Divergence - Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)
Order 66 Didn't Happen (Star Wars)
Anakin Skywalker Faces Consequences
Obi-Wan Kenobi Raises Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker
Wolffe squeezed Rex’s hand nervously as they walked into a busy office in the new Jedi temple. There were already clones and Jedi waiting in seats to be called and a few in line ahead of them to talk to the receptionists to check in. 
“Hello, I’m Ja’nari, how can I help you today?” A nice human looking Jedi asked, brown hair clipped back to stay out of her face. 
“I’m Commander Wolffe and this is my husband Rex. We, uh, have an appointment about adopting a cadet?” He said feeling his heart flip a few times in his chest and Rex squeezed his hand back. 
“Oh, yes! You’re here about Threes. He’s part of Sneko Clan right now, I remember Arlena mentioning he might be being adopted soon. Here, fill this out and bring it back when you’re finished and we’ll get you in soon.” She said handing them a datapad which Rex took and gestured to the seats nearby before calling up the next group in line.
Sitting down Wolffe peeked at the form as Rex started to fill everything out. “Didn’t we already fill this out last time we were here?” He asked, remembering they had been made to fill out enough paperwork to supply two full battalions and they would know. It had taken ages and been exhausting to try to figure some of the questions out since the forms had seemed to be meant for natborns. 
“These are different and there’s only two. I think it’s just finalizing stuff to make sure nothing has changed since the last time we were here.” Rex said finishing up easily enough and returning the pad to Ja’nari before returning to sit next to Wolffe. 
Wolffe fidgeted. “What if Fox was right? I might not be good at this Rex. I-” He whispered but Rex knocked their shoulders together. 
“Firstly, Fox apologized for that already and only said that because you provoked him. Secondly, Fox's opinion doesn’t actually matter in the end, only ours, even if he did actually think the things he said, which I know for a fact he does not. Wolffe, we went over this like a hundred times already. You like Threes. I like Threes. Threes likes both of us. We have the space and money and time to take care of him. We’ve both taken care of entire battalions before. We can take care of one single cadet.” He reminded him. Wolffe snorted. 
“You make everything sound so simple and logical… Did you steal those lines from Gen- Master Koon?” He teased and it was Rex’s turn to snort. 
“I have my own good ideas from time to time you know. I definitely didn’t get them from my own General after all.” He huffed but his expression twisted at the reminder of Skywalker and Wolffe wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed letting Rex lean his head against him. 
After Palpatine had been dealt with, Skywalker had pretty much lost his mind. He wanted Fox and Cody tried for treason even with news that they had saved Obi-Wan’s life and that the Chancellor had been a Sith available. When the Council refused he had planned to go after them himself but he had gone to ask Fives for help and Fives had commed Rex who had in turn warned Fox and Cody and got help from the other Jedi. 
The confrontation had been nasty because somehow Senator Amidala had found out and showed up to confront her husband and a whole load of new information had been spilled about Anakin having killed an entire tribe back on Tatooine before the war and Padme helping him over it up. Skywalker had accused her of sleeping with Kenobi, force choked her, and then started fighting Mace and Kit who had shown up to stop him. 
Rex had managed to draw his attention when he realized that his General’s power was even too much for the pair of Jedi to handle on their own and Fives had shot him with three stun blasts before he went down. 
Wolffe had been helping with a relief mission and hadn’t heard anything until Rex commed him later and told him everything through his tears. They didn’t find out until later that Padme had gone into an early labor due to the stress and given birth to twins. Once she had recovered, Padme had apparently planned on giving the pair up for adoption since Anakin had been arrested and she had been forced to give up her seat in the Senate as her own crimes came to light while Anakin’s were investigated. 
Obi-Wan was a mess but as Anakin’s once legal guardian and a close friend of Padme’s he had offered to take the kids in once it was known that Padme’s family weren’t interested in claiming the children born of their child’s lies. Alpha-17 and Fordo had both stepped up and offered to help.
Wolffe hadn’t heard anything about it until he had returned from the scouting mission he was on with Plo looking at different planets that might work for the clones. Rex had nearly tackled him off the platform as he was leaving the ship and started crying until Wolffe had been able to get him somewhere private and coax the story from him. 
“Commanders Wolffe and Rex?” The receptionist calling them dragged Wolffe from his memories and he and Rex stood to walk back over to the counter where they were directed to walk through a door to the right and then down the hall to the last door. The office they arrived at belonged to the Besalisk Jedi who was dealing with their case, Master Arlena. “Wolffe, Rex! Good to see you! Come in and sit! I have good news!” She said using a pair of arms to guide them into the room while another closed the door behind them. 
“We were approved?” Rex asked and she nodded with a wide grin. 
“You were! Obviously things are different for the clone cadets and how adoption is working for them especially for other clones and Jedi who are interested but everything went through smoothly. I have some papers for you to add to your files but after you leave here tonight you can pick Threes up from Sneko Clan and take him home. I already called ahead and let the creche master know.” She assured them and started to spread out some papers across her desk explaining they had Threes get a full medical work up and had all his information available for them, and it was in the Temple’s system.
“Obviously Threes’ disabilities means he has regular check ups but I’m sure you’re used to dealing with Wolffe’s own appointments. He’s already enrolled in classes so you won’t have to worry about his schooling. The first home check will be next month but you both have all the numbers on this page here if you need any help at all before then. Remember there’s no shame in asking for help but letting issues fester will only lead to them getting worse with time. Do you have any questions for me?” She asked and Wolffe looked at Rex who was looking over the documents they’d be taking with them, eyes looking a little red. 
“No ma’am. We’re excited to show Threes his new home. Our batchmates are already planning a party if Threes agrees to it. Everyone is really excited to meet him.” Wolffe said and she stood. 
“In that case, congratulations and don’t let me keep you! Reach out for anything, I’m happy to help and it’s been a joy helping you both and Threes find each other.” She said shaking their hands as she ushered them out at a friendly pace but Wolffe knew that with the number of cadets they were still trying to get homed and how bust the office was she likely didn’t have time to dawdle. 
Leaving the office felt like a blur and soon he and Rex were just standing in the middle of a hallway in the temple staring at each other. 
“We… that… Did we really?” Rex asked as the tears finally spilled over even as his lips kept twitching up into a grin and Wolffe found his own smile catching before he dragged Rex in for a desperate kiss. 
“We’re parents now. We have our own kid. Threes gets to come home with us!” He cheered and Rex started laughing breathlessly along with him. 
“We should go get him then! Classes will be out in another hour. We can surprise him and stop by the shops to get ice cream on the way home.” Rex suggested and Wolffe nodded both of them holding hands as they hurried off toward where they knew Threes’ clan was so they could collect him after his class. 
(line break)
Threes bit his lip as he hugged his plush loth-wolf tightly. It had been a gift from Commander Wolffe after the second time they met and it was so soft and warm it helped when Threes got overwhelmed. He especially liked that Rex had helped him switch out one of the wolf’s eyes and sew the fabric so it looked like Commander Wolffe’s eye did. 
The day had been rough from the start. Firstly one of his clan mates had stolen his loth-wolf from his that morning and refused to give it back until Threes had gone to tell the creche master about it then they had spent the day calling him a tattle-tale and giving him a grumpy look since they had gotten a talking to. After mid-meal no one had wanted him on their team for their sword fighting games because of his messed up hands so he had ended up sitting alone in the garden until it was time to return to classes. Then he had to take the class with his least favorite teacher, Mr Frellin. He wasn’t mean but Threes felt like he had some sort of grudge against him because he always insisted on Threes having to write all his assignments by hand. Technically Threes could write on his own thanks to the surgeries that had been done and the fact he did have three usable fingers on each hand but it caused his hands to cramp up if he had to do it for long stretches of time and it hurt. 
His other teachers let him dictate his assignments to helper droids where it would get printed out instead. He didn’t understand why Mr Frellin insisted on making things harder for him when there was an easier way but the man insisted he was doing it for Threes’ own good and that he’d thank him for it in the future. 
Then as they were walking back to their rooms the same bully from earlier had finally poked the wrong nerve reminding Threes that Rex and Wolffe hadn’t been by to visit in over a month now and that they had probably gotten bored of him. Threes had tackled him and they had fought until the Creche master dragged them apart and sent both of them to their rooms where a nurse had eventually come to check on him and then check on the bully to make sure neither of them had been badly hurt. 
“Well we were going to get ice cream but that might be considered reinforcing bad behavior.” Rex’s voice broke through Threes’ moping and he immediately jumped up to throw his arms around Rex and hug him.
“You saw the kid’s form Rex, we should be encouraging a good tackle like that and it’s not like I haven’t done worse to Fox in our own scuffles. At least he didn’t bite the other kid.” Wolffe cut in and wrapped Threes in another hug from behind. 
“You came back!” He said squeezing as tightly as he could and Rex ran his fingers through Threes’ hair gently.
“Of course we did, did you think we wouldn’t? We told you we were going to adopt you. Sorry it took so long. The data-forms were all made for natborns and took twice as long to process as we expected.” Rex sighed. 
“I wasn’t sure if you really meant it. Lots of people say things and don’t mean them.” Threes murmured softly. Alpha-17 had promised that Threes wouldn’t get separated from his batch after all and yet Ka’ra Squad had been separated as soon as they were all brought to the temple. 
“We meant it, kid. We’re actually here because it’s all done. You’re coming home with us, if you haven’t changed your mind that is?” Wolffe asked and Threes looked up at him with wide hopeful eyes. 
“Really?! I… I get to go with you?” He asked and Rex nodded with a smile. 
“As of today we are officially your buir’e. You’re stuck with us. Unfortunately for you Wolffe snores so snuggling in our bed in the middle of the night won’t help you sleep. But he can make a mean hoth-chocolate so I forgive him.” Rex teased and Wolffe rolled his eyes. 
Threes moved to latch onto Wolffe in a hug next and Rex started moving around to gather up Threes things from the room packing them in a bag he had brought with him. 
“We’re going out for ice cream to celebrate and then we’ll get you settled in your new room. Since its Primeday you have a few days before you need to be in class again. Our vode want to meet you too if you’re okay with it. Cody and my twin Fox are here for the next few weeks visiting so they offered to stop by for a little party but we wanted to make sure you were okay with it first. 
“Cody? You mean like… the Commander Cody of the 7th sky? Of course I want to meet him! He’s the coolest clone in the whole GAR! He punched Grievous in the face and helped kill the Sith lord!Who wouldn’t want to meet Cody?!” He asked bouncing now and both Rex and Wolffe shared a look Threes didn’t understand over his head but he didn’t care. He got to meet Cody!
“Way to make the rest of us feel loved kiddo.” Wolffe huffed and Threes rolled his eyes at him. 
“I mean you and Rex are cool too but Commander Cody is a legend!” He continued to babble away scooping up his loth-wolf to hug as Rex finished packing and slung the bag over his shoulder. 
“I’m sure Cody will love you too twerp. He’s actually a nerd though so don’t set your hopes too high. His name isn’t Cody for no reason.” Rex huffed a laugh as they started leading Threes out. 
“Isn’t it like another version of Kote? Like Glory?” Threes asked and Wolffe started laughing while Rex’s lips twitched. 
“He might tell you that but it started off as Codes because he kept whispering the reg codes in his sleep.” Wolffe told him while Threes gaped at him. 
“What?! No way! That’s… so lame!” He squeaked, not sure if they were telling him the truth or not but just happy to get to spend time with them again… his parents. The thought made him beam and hug Wolffe again, stopping their movement for a moment before Wolffe just scooped him up under one arm and kept moving, making Threes giggle. 
“You won’t make me late for ice cream kid, not even with hugs.” Wolffe hummed and Rex shook his head fondly. 
“We have all the time in the galaxy now. You can’t be late when there’s no deadline.” Rex pointed out and Threes felt like his heart was going to explode from just how happy that thought made him. 
They had forever now. 
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tattycoram · 2 years
Conversation
Wolffe: If anything happened to Rex I don't think I'd be able to live with myself
Wolffe: I just wouldn't have to. Cody would kill me
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sulevinen · 2 years
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i don’t think fox ”smiles” i think he just lifts his lips into a smile when he feels like he needs to. on kamino his smile didn’t matter, on coruscant he has to keep his helmet on, with his brothers he fakes a smile.
fox doesn’t understand why people want him to smile: alpha explained to him that smile is an expression of joy and happiness, and it tells other people that they’re bringing them happiness. it’s a way to say things without words: i like you, you’re funny, i agree with you, i’m happy to see you.
fox tries to smile. he tries. when cody says a joke, he smiles: cody smiles back. when wolffe smirks, fox copies him. rex is frowning, fox smiles at him: he never gets a smile back but rex lifts his eyebrows. fox smiles at his troopers, and they ease up. fox smiles at civilians: they get angry, they frown at him, they walk away. some smile back. some wave at him and come to talk.
he has mixed feelings about smiling. in the other hand his brothers smile back and laugh and he seems to ”bring them happiness”. he can signal to them, without the words he hates to use, that i love you, i care about you, i’m so glad you’re here, i’m happy to see you alive. welcome back.
but it’s also exhausting. it’s tiring. smile from day to day. talking wears him out faster, but smiles are a different kind of struggle. his face hurts. he doesn’t feel like smiling when all he wants is to cry.
but he smiles anyway, because he feels like it’s the only way to tell people he is okay. at least to pretend to be. his brothers know by now that his smile means he’s happy to be with them, and he doesn’t need to talk. so they won’t try to talk, and fox can just smile and save his energy for simple things like walking and breathing. he can sulk in his own misery, disappear behind his smile. hide his worry and anger and hurt and exhaustion.
because smile means he’s happy. he’s okay.
smile means ”i love you i care about you i’m glad you’re here i’m happy to see you alive.” and it does. but his smile feels fake, it feels like it isn’t real, the more he does it, it starts to feel like more of a chore than a genuine feeling of love and happiness. it doesn’t match his emotions. not when someone asks him ”are you okay” and he just smiles and nods.
but fox keeps smiling. he’s kept going for this long, no reason to stop now. just smile and they know you’re okay. that’s what a smile means.
to him, smile is a mask. just a lie to keep everyone happy.
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rollinginthestars · 2 years
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Can’t think of a 4 digit pin? USE YOUR FAVOURITE CLONE! For example, 7567!
This is not recommended if your favourite clone is Cody, Fox, Fives or Wolffe
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corriegardenia · 2 years
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what your favourite clone (commander) says about you
Rex: you are an older sibling.
Cody: you are a bottom, (affectionate). Major competency kink.
Bly: you are also a bottom, (derogatory). 
Fox: you have mental health issues and probably a caffeine addiction
Wolffe: you have daddy issues and probably a hug addiction
Monnk/Ponds/Bacara: you are an introvert who finds the idea of actually having content for your faves overwhelming
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sleepingsun501 · 2 years
Text
Set to Stun
Summary: Fox has dealt with memory blackouts for years and kept it a closely guarded secret. Now, he has to deal with the aftermath of not remembering killing Fives.
**Please see the end of the story for A/N**
Rating: Explicit (for violence)
Warnings: Really heavy angst, memory loss, violence, mental breakdown and anguish, hearing voices, psychological torture, suicidal thoughts (this is very brief, but it's there), brotherly love, comfort, implied major character death.
Word Count: 3.4k
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41282931
Slowly regaining his bearings, Fox timidly backed away from the scene. His heart was starting to hammer in his ears along with the echoes of Rex’s voice pleading for his brother to hang on. He could barely feel the floor beneath his boots, and the cold chill of dread flooded his limbs.
What did I just do? he thought, horrified. He watched as his Corrie brothers, clad in red and white, encircled the fallen clone with a smoking hole in his chest, the grief-stricken captain, and the Jedi general. Holding a hand to his head, Fox desperately tried to remember the past few minutes, but his mind was disturbingly foggy. Immediately he knew it had happened again. Another memory blackout. No, not again… not now… please not now.
His wide, dark amber eyes were drawn down to the DC-17 blaster in his hand. He was gripping it with a force he had not known himself capable of, and it was set to live fire. No… no… it’s not… I-I never took it off stun.
Beneath his bucket, Fox’s brows furrowed and confused panic started to rise in his chest. I didn’t… No, no, no, no… this isn’t… no… fuck. Fuck. FUCK! Karking hells, it was—it was on stun! But the live fire setting was glaring hatefully back at him, countering his internal argument. He tried furiously to recall what had happened, but his memory between departing the gunship and gripping his blaster was shrouded in a thick, dark mist. Why did this keep happening to him?
With a shaky breath, Fox holstered the blaster and looked back at the scene. He had not expected to meet Rex’s accusatory, tearful eyes, silently demanding to know why he had killed another clone. A brother.
The pang of guilt that hit him snaked its way around his throat, making him gag. It had finally happened. His worst fear was realized—the sporadic bouts of memory loss he had kept hidden for so long had made him kill another clone.
With the scene burned into his mind, he slowly turned out the door he and his troopers had rushed through just moments before. He walked carefully, as though he were in a haze, making his way back to the gunships and mentally retracing every step he could.
Every instinct Fox had was screaming at him that his blaster had been on stun. Just before they had departed the gunship, he distinctly remembered telling his men to be ready, and he knew he had checked his own weapon. He remembered seeing it. He remembered setting it. He remembered thinking he was going to have to haul a stunned clone back to the military complex in binders. But then… things suddenly became fuzzy. Why was his memory fuzzy? He was a clone for fuck’s sake; he was designed to have a nearly photographic memory. Why was everything in his mind like an endless void from the time he had stepped off the gunship to him holding his weapon?
His comm beeping on his wrist broke him out of his stupor, and he felt a chill run down his spine as he recognized the frequency. It was Chancellor Palpatine.
“Commander Fox,” he said evenly, shaking himself and answering the comm. His own voice sounded so far away.
“Commander,” came the chancellor’s deep, slow, velvety voice, “has the situation been dealt with?”
Fox licked the small scar on his dry lips and swallowed thickly. “Yes, sir,” he replied, his formal instincts taking over. Even as he spoke over the comm, he automatically stood a little straighter and leveled his tone. He could not let even an ounce of weakness betray his personal feelings, not to the chancellor. He forced the words out, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache, “The situation has been handled.”
“Very good, Commander. Have a pleasant evening,” the chancellor’s unnaturally calm voice replied before the comm cut.
Fox felt the invisible weight on his shoulders double as an invasive pressure seeped into his head. Have a pleasant evening. Those four words boomed in his skull louder than if a cannon had gone off beside him—so loud that he doubled over, clutching the right side of his bucket near his temple as his ears began to ring. The longer he stood there, the louder the words became, and they started to bleed together with the memory of Rex’s voice crying out for Fives.
He braced himself on the bulkhead of the gunship. It’s gonna be ok. he told himself. Despite his pathetic attempt at self-reassurance, Fox began to feel the tears sting his eyes. J-just get back to… to base.
At some point, he managed to straighten up again, and he was rejoined by his troopers. Fox barely heard himself give the order to return to the GAR military complex, and not a single trooper said a word during the short flight back, but he could feel their eyes on him. Every time one of their buckets moved a fraction in his direction, the mounting pressure in his chest made every beat of his heart heavier. There may as well have been mud trudging through his veins with how slowly time seemed to pass.
“Fives! Fives!”
“Stay with me, Fives.”
My blaster was on stun. I swear, it was on stun. he repeated to himself, over and over. By the time the ships landed back in the base hangar, he was trying to mentally project it to his troopers, trying to make them believe him without ever uttering a word.
“Have a pleasant evening.”
Fox’s boots felt like they were made of duracrete as he staggered off the ship and started making his way back to his office, high in the towers of the GAR complex. He vaguely heard one of the troopers ask him something about further orders, but he ignored it completely. It was on stun. It was on stun. It was on stun.
Every trooper he passed began to look like Fives. He did his best to stare at the ground, but anyone not wearing their helmet caught his eye. Normally, he could have told most of them apart just from little expressions or the way they carried themselves, but now all he could see etched on their identical faces was the pained and surprised look on Fives’ face when he had taken the shot in the chest. The red paint on their Corrie armor even began to look like blood. Fox had never felt so scared and so alone.
“Stay with me, Fives!”
For years, the clones of the Coruscant Guard had always been told that they were the best the GAR had to offer, the cream of the crop. They were told their positions on Triple Zero were not simply privileges because they were of a higher caliber than other clones, but the highest honor, and that they did not have to suffer and bleed on the front lines as a reward for their distinguished service. So many times, they had all been told that the Corries were the best because they were needed to protect the citizens and politicians of the Galactic Capitol from the threats brewing within the Capitol itself. Even now he could hear Chancellor Palpatine’s words to other politicians regarding the Corries:
“You are the best the Republic has to offer. The Coruscant Guard is the finest of all the divisions the Grand Army has ever seen.”
Some of the boys bought the propaganda, especially the shinies. They were always rather egotistical at first because of it, but that attitude never lasted long. Fox had known better from day one, and the shinies learned quickly that Coruscant itself was a warzone, especially in the lower levels. Their men came back from patrols battered, bruised, and bleeding every day. To make matters worse, they learned over time that there was also a political war full of ruthless sabotage, plotting, and intrigue on the levels of the city where one could still see the sky, and it made security details a nightmare.
“Come on, Fives, don’t go!”
Even so, the other units in the GAR had begun to mock them—calling them pretenders, glorified bodyguards, and shinies playing soldiers, because they had never faced a full-scale battle against the Seppies. Nevertheless, they still did their duty and protected their own, no matter what the other units would say. Countless times they had rooted out domestic threats, protected senators on diplomatic missions, and proved themselves vital to the security of Triple Zero.
“Stay with me!”
As Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard, Fox was supposed to be the best of the best by that logic, and it haunted him. How was he meant to be the best of the best—how was he supposed to protect his men—if there were gaps in his memory? Gaps that had before caused him to forget doing unspeakable things to lower-level civilians and citizens, but now had directly brought about the death of another clone.
How many nights had he not slept out of fear he would wake up in lower levels of the city? How many cups of caf had he consumed to keep himself awake and functioning? How many times had his own men suffered because of decisions he could not remember making? How often had he isolated himself from his brothers out of fear he would hurt them?
Too many.
“Call for help! We need a medic!” Rex’s voice echoed in Fox’s head again and again as he made his way through the bland grey halls of the complex.
As he entered his dark office, he pulled his blaster from its place on his hip. It was still set to live fire. He cradled the weapon in both hands—a weapon he knew front to back and inside out. He knew he had not taken it off stun. Why was it set to live fire?
“Have a pleasant evening.”
He rehashed all the questions in his mind, still hearing Rex’s voice and the chancellor’s rattling in his skull. He felt so heavy that he could barely move in the darkness. The only thing illuminating him now was the faint glow of the distant city through the large, floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk.
He groaned in pain as the pressure in his head mounted again, and suddenly, he could hear a third voice mixed in with the others. To his horror, it was his own—but also not his own. It was darker, harsher, more brutal, and more sinister than he was physically capable of sounding, and it was emanating from the blaster.
“Murderer,” the hideously corrupt voice whispered.
Fox’s hands began to tremble as he ran his thumb over the settings switch. The position of the switch was not easily changeable, and the blasters were designed that way for a reason. His thumb pushed against the switch, but it remained stubbornly on the live fire setting.
“Murderer… Murderer…” the voice continued, quickly multiplying into several voices and becoming a chorus all chanting together.
Unable to bear it anymore, he turned and launched the blaster against the far wall with a rough grunt. The resounding metallic smack it made as it connected with the wall and landed on the floor was nothing compared to the voices all whispering and screaming in his head.
“STOP!” Fox bellowed. He ripped off his red helmet, hurling it against the wall to join his blaster. Every blood vessel in his body was pounding in time with his heart, and every beat washed him with fresh guilt. What right did his heart have to keep drumming in his ears when he had caused another clone’s heart to stop? An invisible vice gripped his lungs, making it impossible to breathe.
“Murderer.”
“Have a pleasant evening.”
“Fives. Stay with me, Fives!”
“You are the best the Republic has to offer.”
“Murderer. Murderer.”
“No… no… I didn’t mean to!” Fox whispered and gasped, pressing his head into his violently shaking hands.
“Come on, Fives, don’t go! Stay with me!”
“Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.”
“Please! I… I can’t remember! I d-didn’t mean to!” He twisted his gloved fingers into his prematurely greying curls, pacing around and arguing with the voices, willing them to leave.
“Stay with me!”
“Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.”
“It was on stun! I know it was!” Fox continued to whisper. His voice, the voice he knew was his because it was breaking, mixed with the tears beginning to stream freely down his stubbled cheeks. He pressed his forehead and hands to the cool glass of his window, faintly seeing his reflection. Through the fog of his breath on the glass, even his own reflection twisted into an accusatory expression. Disgusted, he turned and stumbled to his desk.
“Don’t go!”
“Have a pleasant evening.”
“We need a medic!”
“—the finest of all the divisions—"
“Murderer.”
“Fives! Fives!”
“Has the situation been dealt with?”
“P-please… please… stop,” he begged. His blood was turning to fire as he struggled to breathe, and a cold sweat wracked him with chills.
“Murderer.”
Fox snapped. With a vicious snarl, he gripped his heavy chair and hurled it across the room with an almost inhuman amount of force, desperate to hear or feel anything else. He grasped the edge of his desk, roaring with all his might as he flipped it, and flimsi sheets and holodisks went scattering across the floor.
“IT WAS ON STUN!” he screamed, kicking the desk over once more. Shoulders heaving, he clawed at his armor, unable to withstand the feeling of his broad, strong chest being restricted by it as his knees buckled. His desperate gasps turned into dry heaves as he pulled at the collar of his blacks, trying to tear them off.
The magnetic snaps of his red and white chest and back plates gave way under the brute force of his hands, but he still felt as though the room was closing in around him. He felt like he was suffocating. He could not breathe. He needed air.
Fox scrambled to where his chair had fallen and used it as leverage as he pushed himself to his feet. Even though he felt like he was drowning, he managed to slam the heavy chair into his window. The glass splintered and spiderwebbed in several places with the first strike.
“Murderer.”
“NO!” he screamed, striking the glass again.
“Murderer.”
A third time and the glass shattered at his feet and down to the ground dozens of stories below him. The gentle breeze that wafted through his destroyed window washed over Fox, but it did nothing to quell the voices or the gripping panic and anxiety still surging through him.
He sank to his knees before the window, the shattered glass crunching under him as he pressed his fists into the edge of the window frame. The loose curls on top of his head fell into his vision and swayed wetly in the breeze. A few beads of sweat dripped down from his hairline with his tears to the tip of his nose, and he watched them fall together, only to be carried away on the wind. What he would not give to have the voices torturing him be carried away by the same wind. Somewhere in his troubled mind, he wondered how far the drop was and if it would hurt if he just—
Light flooded into his office from the hallway as his door swished open.
“Vod?” a brother’s breathless voice asked, joining the fray of noise humming in Fox’s head. “Vod!”
Dressed only in his blacks, Wolffe leapt over the overturned desk and grabbed Fox by the collar, dragging him away from the window. Through instinct alone, Fox wildly tried to fight him off, but he threw himself to his knees, taking hold of Fox’s wrists and wrapping himself around his panicking brother.
Wolffe had been woken and briefed in a frenzy by the troopers that had accompanied Fox that evening, and he had never moved faster before in his life than when he had heard the crashing sounds of glass and shouting echoing down the hall from Fox’s office.
“Fox’ika, stop!” Wolffe shouted, managing to pin his youngest batchmate to the floor, one of his shins pressing hard across Fox’s thighs and using the entirety of his body weight to hold him down.
Seeing Wolffe’s cybernetic eye made Fox pause. No matter how hard the vile, slippery voices in his mind tried, they could not make that eye and the long scar on his ori’vod’s face twist into Fives’ expression.
Seizing the opportunity, Wolffe unclipped Fox’s plackart armor pieces and tossed them to the floor with a clatter, freeing the rest of his upper body. He was relieved when Fox managed to take a deep breath, but it was short-lived because Fox began sobbing uncontrollably.
The longer Fox looked up at his older brother, the more he realized that he had become the very danger he had fought to protect his men from for so long. I’m the threat. he thought as his own inner voice finally became audible again. I’m the danger. Get away! Get away from me, vod, before I hurt you, too. He tried to push Wolffe away, but the other commander was not easily deterred.
“Kih’vod, gev! Gev!” Wolffe pleaded, sitting up and pulling his brother with him into a sturdy hug. He gripped the back of Fox’s neck, pressing his brother’s head into his shoulder as he flinched and tried to squirm away.
Fox felt dizzy, but the security of Wolffe’s arms around him soothed his boiling blood. The horrible voices began to drift further and further away. “I’m sorry,” Fox wept, his tears soaking Wolffe’s blacks. “I didn’t—I’m sorry—it was… on stun. I s-swear… it w-was… Ni ceta.”
Wolffe shushed his little brother, pulling him impossibly tighter into his burly arms. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had managed to quell several other brothers’ panic attacks this way. This was far more than a panic attack, but he applied as much pressure as he could without crushing him, trying to get Fox’s body to realize he was not in danger.
Fox eventually wound his arms around Wolffe as he regained his awareness, but continued to cry harder. The shame and guilt that still roiled through him made his head swim. He was a Clone Marshal Commander. He was supposed to be the best of the Coruscant Guard. He was supposed to keep his brothers—all of his brothers—safe from the threats of the war. They were his responsibility, and he was failing them.
“I’ve got you, vod,” Wolffe whispered, kneading his fingers into the strained tendons in the back of Fox’s neck. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Fox whimpered and trembled, mumbling into Wolffe’s shoulder, “—ceta. Ni ceta. N—”
“Shh, just breathe with me, kih’vod. Just breathe.” Wolffe took a deep, slow breath and purposefully pressed his chest to Fox’s and rubbed his back, trying to help guide his breathing.
The batchmates sat together in the familiar embrace for several minutes, and Fox finally began to relax. He remembered how they had done this for each other as mere cadets on Kamino—but it had been Cody who had started it after Bly kept having flash training nightmares. Though his contact with his batchmates had become less frequent after he had been assigned to the Guard, he was still grateful he could find some solace with them whenever they were planetside. But now he felt as though he were alone, even with his big brother there to comfort him.
“I can’t remember anything. I can’t remember pulling the trigger. I don’t know what to do,” Fox whispered defeatedly as Wolffe continued to hold him. His entire body ached as he sank deeper and deeper into his brother’s embrace, exhaustion seeping into his bones. “I’m dangerous, vod. You have to get away from me.”
“No, you’re not. I’m not going anywhere, Fox’ika. We’ll figure this out. I promise,” Wolffe reassured, gently rocking his sobbing kih’vod and stroking a hand through his sweaty curls. A single tear slipped from Wolffe’s good eye. His baby brother had been so close to that window. He sniffled and readjusted his grip on Fox so he could press their foreheads together.
Something innate and deep in his gut told him this was not Fox’s fault. He felt the all-consuming need to protect Fox, just as he had when they were young. Something was attacking his vod, and he was going to find out what it was. “I promise.”
A/N: I hope you’re all not as emotionally drained as I am after writing this. This work was actually inspired by another Fox POV one-shot I saw years ago. That particular fic was very short but broke my heart to read. It was posted just days after the Clone Wars episode where Fives is killed came out, and unfortunately, it was received with so much hate that the author deleted both the fic and their entire account because of it. I don’t remember what the fic was called or who the author was, but this is my attempt to honor them and provide my perspective on what happened to Fox. For those of you who don’t like Fox or want to come at me with arguments about how your hate of him is justified, don’t bother. I firmly believe Fox was mentally tortured by Palpatine for years and forced to do things he couldn't remember, and I will defend him with my life. If you disagree with me, that’s fine, but leave any hate out of the comments section. Thank you.
Mando'a Translations: Vod - brother Ori'vod - big brother Kih'vod - little brother Ni ceta - I'm sorry Gev - stop
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sabellart · 2 years
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some clones <333
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melymigo · 1 year
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I know everyone is happy about the new Ahsoka trailer because of Hera, Sabine, Ezra, etc. I am happy too. But where is Rex? I know they're not going to show everyone and everything in the trailer, but... is he safe? Is he alright? And Wolffe too, Is he safe? Is he alright?👀
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