bambiswriting

[bambiswriting]

CAPTAIN REX in TALES OF THE JEDI

[bambiswriting]

"We'll be fine, as long as we stay together"

[bambiswriting]

Small RexObi Moments

[bambiswriting]

.

.

.

Discord shenaniganery led to some fun speculation about tbb season 3, and I just had to turn @stormyblue90 s goofy dialogue idea into a comic XD

Original post here

Drawing all the expressions was an absolute blast! I’ve been spamming the discord WIP channel with them for weeks

[bambiswriting]

Rex: *wakes up on a good mood*

Rex: Good morning! We have a very chill day ahead!

Fives: *opens his mouth*

Echo: *shoves an entire muffin into Fives's mouth*

[bambiswriting]

@crossover15 kofi requested Anakin introducing the twins to the 501st!!

(kofi requests are open!)

[bambiswriting]

[bambiswriting]

Fives: Whats your darkest desire?

Echo: I wanna stare at someone from across the street and then disappear when a ship passes by.

[bambiswriting]

bambiswriting turned 3 today!

How to celebrate... 🤔

[bambiswriting]

Rex just straight up badass for throwing this explosive out. 😎

[bambiswriting]

For What It's Worth - Part 3 Rex x Reader

Summary: Rex goes to find his brother, and Fox, you've got some 'splainin to do (just kidding, he's a good big brother who's trying his best). Warnings: reader is afab, discussions of violence, Rex is mad and sad, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Tag List (I am so excited to get my first tag request, thank you! <3): @bambiswriting If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

“I can’t believe you dragged me here! Do you really think this was the best place to talk?” Rex hissed. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, swiveling his helmet this way and that at any approaching figures. There were a lot of them, and he was not supposed to be here. Strictly speaking.

Fox, on the other hand, was completely at ease guarding one of the many entrances to the Senate chamber. He stood at perfect attention, helmet impeccably poised, still managing to look bored.

“Please,” he responded, not even looking Rex’s way. “Do you know how many clones these politicians see every day? Do you know how many of them are too worried about their own crooked dealings to even notice us?”

Fox, to his credit, had answered Rex’s furious comm on their private channel right away. Almost as if he’d been waiting for it. The conversation had been typically short, but filled with a little bit more frustration than usual:

Rex: Why the hell didn’t you contact me?!

Fox: I take it you’re back on-planet.

Rex: YES I am on-fucking-planet! Do you have any idea of what I am going through right now?! Have you SEEN her?!

Fox: Come to the Senate building in an hour. Thire will be outside. He’ll direct you to me.

Rex: The Senate building?!

Fox: I’ll see you soon. Over and out.

He’d found his brother as instructed, and as it turned out, the Senate would be debating on several issues well into the night. Aides were running around, refreshments were being brought in, and nobody seemed to give a single care about the trooper loitering around in blue armor instead of red.

There was a lull in the bustling around them, and Fox finally tilted his head slightly toward his brother, “How is she?”

Rex let out a long breath. The long hours, lack of sleep, and pure fucking adrenaline of the day were starting to fray him around the edges, “I can’t stay long, Fox. She hasn’t woken up since I got back. Her friend says it's the medication…” I never thought I’d see her like that. She was so still and their fingerprints are still there, on her skin, on her neck, and I can’t…” He placed his hands on his hips, tilting his chin up and counting his breaths. 

Finally, he turned back to Fox, “Why didn’t you comm me?” Some of his previous ire began bleeding back into his voice.

Fox let out a sigh of his own, shoulders falling just the barest amount, “I tried, Rex. Multiple times. You were in hyperspace for a long while. Private comms just weren’t getting through. And I have to watch all my communications, going in or out. They screen the guard heavily for any breaches of conduct. I could only send one out about once per day, between shifts.”

Rex took one, two, three seconds and decided that he didn’t have the energy to yell at Fox for the shitty regulations they were both bound to. He crossed his arms and went to lean against the wall. It felt more like an exhausted slump instead. “Fine.”

“I got her out of there as fast as I could, I swear. Three troopers hit her location 8 minutes after she activated the distress signal.”

“I…I sure appreciate that, Fox. I do.”

“And,” Fox paused as a harried looking aide rushed by. “We’ve got those bastards booked with every charge we can stick to them. They aren’t getting out, not for a long time.”

Rex’s lip curled beneath his helmet. The last of his energy was rising up within him, fueled by worry and pure fucking anger, “I want to chat with them.”

“No.” And there was that note of finality in Fox’s voice. One Rex so often heard in his own. 

“Fox-”

“I said no, Rex. Don’t ask again. I am your brother, and I’m not letting you do something that’ll get you decommissioned.”

A low growl made its way past Rex’s clenched teeth, “And what would you do if it was your girl, brother? What if it were me letting you know that Ularen’s secretary was beaten senseless-”

“If I had a girl,” Fox turned fully towards him. “I would do anything to be there for her while she healed from something like that. I wouldn’t be running around giving the Republic an excuse to put me down.”

They stood, chest to chest, staring daggers at each other through their helmets. Finally, Fox raised his gloved hand and placed it on Rex’s shoulder, “Go. Be there when she wakes up. Take care of her while you can, and give her the guard’s best wishes. The boys who got to the scene are pretty worried about her.”

Rex hesitated, but despite his urge to put his fist through the senate’s beautiful, gilded walls, he gave a jerky nod and stepped back. But before he could turn away, Fox spoke up again.

“But…there’s something else you should know, and whatever you do, I don’t want you blaming yourself.”

Rex tilted his head, confused, “Blame myself? For what?”

Now it was Fox who was hesitating, “Judging on the crime scene and the language the creepy little fucks were spewing when we brought them in… we think the assault might have been…clone-related.”

Rex’s heart dropped into his stomach, “Clone-related.” It wasn’t a question, but he hoped desperately that this conversation wasn’t going where he thought it was. 

“She had a backpack, right? With a bunch of colorful, pro-clone messaging on it?”

Rex swallowed the lump in his throat. He would not cry. He would not scream. He would not grab his brother by the plastoid and throw him against the wall. “Spit it out, Fox.”

Fox fiddled with his utility belt, one of the only nervous tells he ever exhibited. “I took her statement at the hospital myself, once she woke up for the first time. I wanted to be there for her, for you, as much as I could. But she refused to confirm our suspicions. It was like she was trying to protect us, me and the boys, from the truth of it. So she may not admit it to you either. But Rex, that backpack, it was in shreds. They had a knife, and they slashed the hell out of it. They stomped on each button. And then they started going at her.”

Rex didn’t say anything. How could he? What response could he possibly have to, “Oh your girlfriend was targeted by bloodthirsty criminals because she dares to know you?”

“They weren’t exactly subtle in lock-up either,” Fox continued, as he fiddled more furiously with his belt. He pulled something crumpled from it and handed it over. “They were overheard by several guards talking about ‘that meat-droid whore.’”

Rex sucked in air through his teeth, eyes wide, at the awful words. Words that were spewed at you while they…

While they…

And a terrible thought he hadn’t considered before reared up in his mind. A sickening, visceral thought that had bile climbing up his throat. That meat droid whore, they’d said.

“Did they…” he swallowed, mouth dry, breath short. His knees were dangerously close to giving way. “Fox.. did they…”

But his brother grabbed both of his shoulders, practically keeping him upright on his own, “No, no they didn’t.” Fox ground out, slowly, firmly. “Rex, look at me. It was the first thing the medics checked for, the first thing I asked about for her statement. The shitcans destroyed her backpack, hurled verbal abuse, and beat her. That’s the extent of it, and it’s a bad extent, but nothing else happened beyond that.”

Rex, completely numb behind his helmet, nodded vaguely, stupidly. He flexed his dominant blaster hand, sore from clenching into a trembling fist. He was almost entirely out of strength, of will. Seeing you prone in bed had knocked most of it out of him. And now that he knew it was because of his presence in your life, because of your relationship…

He needed food other than the ration bar he inhaled that morning. He needed sleep, more than three consecutive hours of it. He needed you, pretty eyes open and soft voice drifting to his ear like a warm breeze. He felt like he might crumple into nothing inside his armor, might fall to the floor in the senate building and leave it to Fox to explain why…

“She needs you, Rex,” Fox’s voice reached him through the fog. He looked up into his brother’s helmet, so synonymous with his face by now that Rex felt he could read it like it was. He wondered if Fox could read his just the same.

He shook himself, ridding his brain of these sharp, drifting thoughts. There would be time for self hatred and despair. There always was. Right now, he owed it to you to be present. To care for you while you couldn’t care for yourself. 

The nature of your relationship, of its effect on your health, of its longevity, could all wait until later.

He straightened to attention, and Fox seemed to relax, “Thank you, brother. Thank you for getting her out of there.”

Fox nodded, “Of course. Anything you need, you just let me know.”

Rex turned to go, but threw back over his shoulder, “Oh, and Miss Secretary is doing well.”

A beat, a stiffening of shoulders, “I didn’t ask.”

Rex shook his head and started walking. That was one conundrum he didn’t have the energy for today.

He was halfway down the stairs to the senate building when he remembered the crumpled item in his hand. He glanced down, opening his palm, and nearly lost whatever control he had just regained. Stinging tears sprung up in the corner of his eyes.

Glaring up at him, cracked and damaged beyond repair, was the image of a helmet and a bright, cheeky slogan. 

Clones Do It Better.

[bambiswriting]

For What It's Worth - Part 2 Rex x Reader

Summary: Rex gets back on Coruscant, only to find that everything is not as he left it. Warnings: reader is afab, physical injury, discussions of violence, Rex is stressed tf out, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Part 1

Rex was impossibly nervous.

After a long foray through hyperspace, and an even longer debrief with General Skywalker, and several hours of filling out reports, he’d barely had enough time to get to the flower shop before it closed. Zeira knew him, however, had come to expect his sporadic visits over the last several months, and she simply ushered him inside, flipping the closed sign outward behind him.

He liked Zeira. She didn’t waste time, didn’t ask questions, and didn’t take requests. He stood there while she told him exactly what this bouquet needed and had it arranged and wrapped before he had time to protest. That was okay. What did he know about flowers anyhow?

Now he stood outside an upper-level med center, armor painstakingly buffed and repainted, getting strange looks from passersby. He felt as jittery as he had before your first date. 

This thing between you… it wasn’t exactly new. You’d danced around each other through several of his leaves before he found enough courage - and corellian whiskey - to ask you to dinner. Then you’d gone out every time he was back on Coruscant since. But it was all still fledgling enough to be fragile, and Rex absolutely, positively, did not want to screw it up. He knew despite his limited dating history how special you were, and tonight he was going to give you all the affection and attention you deserved. You put up with a lot just by dating a clone, suffering through the impossible missions, weeks of comm silence, and careful secrecy. But you’d grinned through it for six months - six months! - and told him, every single time, that he was worth it…

He was going to tell you he loved you.

Rex was single-minded, straightforward, and far too stubborn for his own good, but he wasn’t stupid. You were more than he deserved, more than he ever dared dream of, and one day, he was going to give you everything. The war couldn’t last forever, Senator Amidala was already working with others to secure clone citizenship, and if he could just keep his stupid ass from getting killed…well, that’s getting ahead of himself. First he had to tell you he loved you.

If you ever got off work…

Had he gotten the time wrong? The sun was starting to go down. 

Rex wasn’t always thrilled with your job. You were a traveling medic, on-call for whenever another worker called in sick or med centers were short staffed. Of that, he was very proud. You healed people for a living, which was something of a mystical, untouchable concept to him. But you’d worked at nearly every major hospital, clinic, and volunteer center in the city. Some of your workplaces, like this one, were fairly nice. But some, like the one you told him you were serving last week, were in the deepest, seediest part of the city. He nearly went mad every time he saw a place like that on the schedule you sent him. You said that’s where people needed you the most. He didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, they could get someone else to risk their neck for a few antiviral shots and bacta baths. Anyone but his girl. 

It’s why, about three months into your relationship, he’d broken several huge rules and given you the direct emergency line to Fox. Fox knew about you, knew how much his brother worried, and had put up almost no fight when Rex asked him to step in personally if he ever got a distress signal from your comm. In return, Rex offered to keep an eye on one of Admiral Ularen’s cute little secretaries whenever he could. Fox had frozen, clenched his fists, turned sharply about, and walked away without saying a word. 

And Rex hadn’t heard from his brother since. He took great comfort in the thought that you had someone ready to run to help when he couldn’t be there. 

But…the sky was going pink, the street lights were coming on, and you were almost an hour late ending your shift. He huffed an agitated breath beneath his bucket, fiddling with the wrapping on his bouquet. Maybe you were just working overtime? That he could sympathize with. 

He sent you another comm, though the line had been unresponsive the entire day. Unbidden, a scary, insecure thought bubbled up in his mind. Did you…not want to see him?

“Rex!” A melodious voice floated to him on the still Coruscant air, and he turned to find a twi'lek running in his direction, waving her hand frantically. He knew her - your neighbor, your good friend.

“Alentia,” he stood at attention for one of your favorite people, though it probably looked a bit silly with the flowers. Then, to his chagrin, all of his nervousness began bubbling to the surface. “Do you… I don’t know…where…?” 

He gestured helplessly with his bouquet, helmet tilting towards the hospital that you refused to emerge from. Alentia gave him a look so full of sympathy, he thought for a second that maybe he’d rather take a blaster bolt. Then, her lip began quivering.

“I’m sorry, but...,” she began, eyes dropping to the sidewalk. “She’s not here, Rex.”

He gripped his flowers by the stems so fiercely he was afraid they might break, “Does she… I mean… is it over?”

Alentia’s eyes flashed up, wide with surprise, “No! Oh stars, no, I’m sorry Rex. I didn’t mean to make you think that. She’s…at home.”

Rex had plenty of experience with someone burying the lead, but he persisted. “And…can I come see her?”

Tia, as you affectionately called her, smiled sadly, “I think she would really, really like that. She…she got discharged from the hospital this morning.”

“What?” A snap sounded at his fist, and he took an involuntary step forward.

“I’m sorry Rex!” Tia sniffled. “I didn’t know you were coming back and I didn’t think to check her comms till an hour ago! She’s been on pain meds and sleeping most of the day and-”

“Alentia!” He grabbed her shoulder, panic filtering into his voice behind the wall of his rapidly declining self-control. “Tell me what happened.”

“She…she got attacked a few nights ago, Rex! On her way home from-”

“That hell-hole of a clinic she was working at last week.” He snarled. His heart was pumping double-time, though it did nothing to warm the chilled blood in his veins.

“Y-yes!” Alentia finally started sobbing, but Rex didn’t stop to wait. He grabbed her arm and steered her to his borrowed speeder, helping her on board before climbing on himself and igniting the engine.

He ignored the speed limits, ignored the rude gestures thrown his way in the middle of traffic, and put all his energy into getting to his girl as quickly as possible. You were hurt. For some unknown reason, violent strangers had grabbed you outside of work and tried to take you from him. 

If he ever got his hands on them…

You were alive, that much he knew. Alive and well enough to be out of the hospital, but Rex wouldn’t believe you were okay until he saw for himself. Until he held you in his arms.

Had you not been able to comm Fox? Had passersby helped you instead? It didn’t make sense either way. If a report had been filed, if you had been hurt, Fox would have commed him immediately.

Alentia shrieked as he slammed on the decelerator and parked outside your building. He didn’t even allow the poor girl to catch her breath before he was hurrying her towards the entrance. He’d apologize for his behavior later.

The race through the doors and up the flights of stairs was a blur. He typed in the passcode to your apartment - his CT number of all things - and burst into the entryway.

After a frantic glance around at the kitchen and living room, he found you lying still and peaceful in the middle of your bed.

He couldn’t breathe.

Your arm was in a brace, going up past your elbow. Bruises peaked up beyond it, and also blossomed along your opposite bicep in the tell-tale pattern of fingerprints. Similar, fainter bruising marred your neck, and your face… more dark, purple bruises along your left jaw, a split lip, and two black eyes remained closed as you slept on. A patch had been applied to your forehead.

Rex reached out a trembling hand to your face, before dropping it back to his side. “She should have had bacta,” he said numbly. “Why does the bruising look this…this…”

“There’s a bacta shortage on Coruscant,” Alentia mumbled. “Because of the-”

“Because of the war,” he croaked. It was as if someone had pricked a tiny hole in his heart, as if it was slowly wilting inside him.

A hand fell on his armor-clad shoulder, grounding him, “Her head, her arm, and three fractured ribs are the worst of it. A few weeks, and she’ll be feeling like her regular self.”

He nodded, his shaking fists unclenching for just a moment to remove his helmet. Tia busied herself by fluffing your pillows. You didn’t stir.

The numbness was wearing off, the sickening shock, and Rex, who did not consider himself a particularly violent man despite his soldier status, found it replaced with a deep pit of rage.

“Who,” he grit out between bared teeth, eyes fixed on your battered face, committing it to memory. “Who did this to her?”

Alentia started at the venom in his voice, and turned back around warily, “Th-they were arrested by the CG. I don’t know their names, but the guards who contacted me said they were fairly young. Street thugs, from the sound of it.”

Rex had his comm open before she finished speaking. He needed to have a word with his brother.

[bambiswriting]

For What It's Worth - Part 1 Rex x Reader

Summary: You've never been very subtle about your support of clone rights, especially after you started secretly dating Rex. But you never thought a few simple pins would bring you this kind of trouble. All alone, on the mean streets of Coruscant, your life is suddenly in danger and you don't know if you'll be able to make it back to him. Warnings: reader is afab, mugging, attack on the street, general violence, degrading language, clone rights propaganda, physical violence but no noncon/sexual assault, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Part 2

The button had been a joke.

Clones Do It Better, emblazoned on a bright red & blue button in obnoxious font and accompanied by a little cartoon helmet, was pinned to your work bag. A gift from a very close friend who knew your habit of decorating every surface you owned with stickers, patches, and yes, pins. 

She also happened to know about your very secret relationship with a certain well-known clone high in the GAR ranks. So it was a particularly cheeky inside joke that you’d happily added to your collection. But it was still, in fact, a joke.

The men who’d pulled you into that alleyway clearly didn’t know that.

To be fair, the other buttons you’d proudly worn on your backpack - Clone Rights NOW, Fight for Those Who Fight For Us, Humanity Beyond the Helmet - were not jokes. You believed every word.

To be even fairer, that didn’t give these bastards permission to shove your face - hard - against a cold metal wall, arm so horribly twisted behind your back that you swore you felt a bone start to give way. 

You cried out, tears springing from the corners of your eyes. They laughed, a cruel, rotten sound that landed like a stone in the pit of your stomach. From the jeers you couldn’t make out - you might be concussed, and was that blood you felt dripping off your brow? - and the shuffling of feet behind you, you thought there were three of them. They sounded young, irrationally angry, and quite drunk.

“...fucking meat droid whore!” Your brain finally began filtering through all the noise.

Ah. So that was it. They saw your backpack as you were leaving work for the night. It wasn’t hard to spot, you were practically a walking pro-clone advertisement. And it wasn’t the first time you’d gotten a dirty look or even a nasty comment because of it. But you never thought, not even in one of the rougher districts, you would find yourself in this position. 

There were very persistent anti-clone movements out there. People who saw every soldier in the GAR as less than human. Why should they care about an expensive vanity project for the senate and the jedi, anyway? The clones were being put through a galactic meat grinder regardless, and certain people decided they didn’t give a shit. And it seems, some of them had found you.

Alentia was going to feel awful when she found out.  

You push yourself away from the wall with your other hand and take stock of your situation. You’re outnumbered, you’re dazed, you’re trapped, and you’re not sure if the blood from your forehead has reached your lip or if your nose is bleeding too.

“Can’t believe she let a bunch of second-hand cells fuck her-”

“Ruined herself on a lab experiment-”

You were still in your medic’s uniform, not much protection there. One of them had you by your hair and arm. Another cut away at the straps on your backpack. 

Great, there was a knife in play somewhere. 

“Maybe she’s so ugly that nat-borns won’t have her-”

But… They didn’t know that you kept your comm hooked to your belt, instead of at your wrist. It was better when you were at work, less external nonsense near your hands. And they didn’t know about the emergency button that your boyfriend had reprogrammed to go to a very specific direct line, just in case.

They didn’t even see you reach down and hit it. The man who had you pinned was too busy yanking your head back by your hair. You bit your lip to keep from crying out.

His friends were slashing your backpack to bits, stomping on the buttons that fell from the scraps.

“Got nothing to say, bitch?”

No, you really didn’t. You didn’t care to explain yourself to a trio of prejudiced little boys with too much booze and cruelty in their blood. You didn’t give a shit as to why they thought what they were doing was justified or noble or right with the world. Spots were forming in front of your eyes and you wanted so very badly to close them.

I’ll be back in three days, cyare, he’d said, late at night when he could finally get away from his men and make a covert call. 

Right. He’d be back. And you’d be waiting.

It would take under ten minutes for someone to answer your emergency distress call. He’d assured you of that when he’d programmed the number in. Someone was coming. They’d be here any second. You had to stall. 

So you could see Rex again.

[bambiswriting]

Captain Rex in The Bad Batch: Battle Scars

[bambiswriting]

Loyalty means everything to the clones

[bambiswriting]

CAPTAIN REX in THE BAD BATCH ‘Battle Scars’

[bambiswriting]

THE RETURN OF THE KING REX in THE BAD BATCH S2E07&08