#66 legions

[redn1ghtcrawler]

Was supposed to be a warmup but eh…

[phantasm-echo]

Scary tup??? Scary tup >:))

Plus lil doodle comic lmao

I guarantee that Tup never forgave Fives for shaving all his hair off, bro probably cared more about his hair than his life 💀

[fangirlforeversthings]

-Watch the clone wars they said...it will be fun they said-

[1-have-no-idea]

as long as you’re next to me, just the two of us,

Character(s): Rex, reader

Genre: angst, comfort, romance

Overview: Order 66 took everything from everyone, and it took you from Rex. You were lost, but Rex knew you were still out there, and he wouldn’t stop trying until he found you and you were in his arms once again.

Warning(s): Just really angsty, but it ends in a comforting note-, brief language (in Mando’a and basic)

1389 words

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Order 66 ruined everything. Everyone knows that. It ruined relationships, tore loved ones away… for the clones, Order 66 took away everything they’ve ever known. The Republic? Broken. Corrupted. Known as the Empire, now. Their generals? Their Jedi? They’re gone. Most dead, others in hiding. Their brothers? Well, they were scattered across the galaxy. Some dead, others traitors, others not even the same. They lost everything. Rex lost everything. Once a captain of many and a trusted friend, now in his lonesome and in hiding. But do you know what else he lost that almost all clones didn’t have?

Rex lost you.

His love. His angel. His life. His woman. His cyar’ika.

And kriff, did he miss you. Words could not explain the anguish he had felt when the order was released, when he was aware once again and remembered you were out there, somewhere. Without him, his protection, by yourself… Rex could only pray to whatever higher being there was in this god-forsaken galaxy that you were safe, that maybe you were hiding like him. If you weren’t, then Rex… Rex didn’t like to think about that. But he knew you were out there. Somewhere, across the stars, somewhere in this vast galaxy.

And by the Maker, he would find you. Even if it cost him his life. He would find you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Cyar’ika…”

Rex held his comm to his mouth as he spoke, slumped against the wall. It had been a couple of weeks since he had gone into hiding. He believed it had been maybe three? There’s twenty-one days in three weeks. There’s twenty-four hours in a day. At least on this planet. He would call at least every ten hours. That’s two calls every day. That’s forty-two missed calls.

“I just wanted to see how my girl’s doin’.” He elaborated, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he sat in the slowly brightening alley. “I’m getting by. Just surviving, right now. None of my brothers recognize me. The imperials are always lurking around every corner. I can finally relate to how the Jedi feel. These cloaks weren’t ever really meant for someone like me.” He continued, a little humorless laugh escaping him, trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t know why, you weren’t even on the call. He just wanted to leave a message. He just wanted you to know he was still up and kicking, because he was a stubborn bastard who refused to die.

“These times are hard, I know, mesh’la, but you just are gonna have to hang on tight for me, yeah? I’m coming. I’m gonna find you. I promise you that.” And Maker, he tried to keep that waver out of his voice, but he was really tired right now. He was just… he was really tired. He closed his eyes, bringing a gloved hand up and scrubbing at his worn face, before speaking again. “I miss you. A lot. But I know you’re out there, somewhere, and I swear to the Force, sweet girl, I will find you and we’ll be together again.” He declared with determination, jaw clenching as he promised those words to you. “S’just me and you against the galaxy, Name. Just me and you against the galaxy.” He breathed out, before looking around the alley, hearing the heavy footfall of the imperial’s boots and the marching of his brothers. Ah. It was time. Taking a deep breath in, he sighed through his nose before whispering to you one last time before hanging up.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

Forty-three missed calls.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was warm.

Really warm.

Soft hands moved to cradle Rex’s face, thumbs smoothing out the captain’s worry lines and the furrow of his brow. Then soft lips pressed against it. A hushed whisper, then two—

‘Five more minutes, love. We’re on vacation,’

‘Baby, I have to make breakfast,’

And he’d kiss you to shut you up, hold onto you a little longer and you both would fall back asleep while being embraced. He would’ve held on longer and tighter if he knew it’d come to this. He would’ve held on so tight, that maybe you’d be with him now.

The clone woke up in a confused daze, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes as he looked around for you— oh. He was alone in a bed meant for two. It was just a dream. You weren’t really here. You were still gone. That realization made Rex want to sob. His heart fell to his stomach, and it felt as if his own soul had been torn out of his body. He felt so hollow. Where are you, my sweet girl?

Slowly, sluggishly, Rex moved to grab one of the pillows on the other side of the bed, before tugging it to him. His arms circled around the inanimate object, face burying into it as he hugged it to him. The pillow was cold. You would’ve been warm. And if you weren’t, he would’ve warmed you up. You were more firm. Something that he could feel, because you’d be breathing and he would’ve heard your soft snores. This pillow wasn’t you. It wasn’t. It was an inanimate object. Not you.

…so why was he trying to pretend it was?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It had been months. Months, now. And yet Rex had never stopped looking.

He was still in hiding, though. Had been for too long. Well, he was. Now he was currently trying to help Echo find more clones and bring them in to join the Rebellion, or to at least give them a life that they wanted. Currently, however, he was being chased down by a bunch of imperials who happened to spot him. He swerved into another alley, before jumping over a bunch of boxes that were being shipped out to another planet.

In the adrenaline rush of that moment, he failed to notice the person who was hiding behind those boxes, and crashed into them before tumbling to the ground with them. A cry of pain left the other, and Rex groaned, about to rush off before glancing at the other. He bit his lip in conflict, before moving towards them and extending a hand. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He asked, noticing how the person wasn’t an imperial. Or so he thought. He was being reckless right now.

Until they took his hand and looked up at him.

Oh. Oh.

“Name–” “Rex��?”

It was you. It was really you. More exhausted and burnt out looking, but so was he. Your hair had gotten longer. You had dark circles, but you looked absolutely beautiful to him. Rex’s mouth dropped as he struggled to make words, before something akin to a choked sob left him and he crashed into him, and didn’t you respond with just as much enthusiasm. Your arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders and you gasped, one hand cradling the back of his head. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands scrambling to hold at the back of your shirt while he embraced you, finally remembering what you felt like in his arms. “Oh, Maker–” he gasped out, pulling away to cup your face in his hands, gasping like he didn’t know how to breathe. “I found you– I’ve finally found you–”

“I- I thought you and your brothers–” you stammered, and he shook his head. “Chips— we have chips, I got mine removed, I just–” he cut himself off, before slamming his lips to yours. Conveying his worry, his fear, his determination, his longing, how he missed you, how much he loved you, you responded eagerly, holding the back of his head, before the two of you parted, breathless laughs leaving you. Rex grinned, tears in his eyes as he held you. “Oh, how I’ve missed that,” he commented, and you smiled. “I’ve missed you,” you responded, and Rex was about to reply until he remembered that you two were running.

Helping you up, he held your hand, and for once, he felt whole again. “C’mon, cyar’ika. Us against the galaxy. Just the two of us.” He murmured, and you nodded. “You can say that again.” You sighed out. You could cry and love in private later. But right now? You had to run, once again. This time together.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

“I love you too, Rex.”

[torbins-braid]

a retired 501st trooper remembering the march into the Jedi temple

[thisisallyourfaultmiguel]

What I remember about the rise of the Empire is...is how quiet it was. The end of any war is an echo. As the soldier's footsteps come to an end and their weapons clatter to the ground. And suddenly, quiet.

War is so loud, you know. There is yelling and pain and blasterfire. There's death and destruction. Pure and utter violence. To know the quiet is strange.

During the waning hours of the Clone Wars, the 501sst Legion was discreetly transferred back to Coruscant. Something had shifted, before we arrived. There was a mission to be carried out, and we had no choice but to follow through. It was a silent trip. We all knew what was about to happen, what we were about to do. Did we have any doubts? Any private, traitorous thoughts? Not that we a choice in the matter. No one said a word. Not when Order 66 came down, and not when we marched into the Jedi Temple. Not a word.

The galaxy began to mourn the dead. Commanders bury their brothers and the remaining troops fall back into the shadows. Parents stand waiting for their children to arrive at the door, forever in a standstill. Siblings crumble without their other half. Children walk the streets, no mother or father in sight.

Those of us who survived are lost. We know no other life. There is nothing for us to go home to. What are they, without a cause to fight for? What is a soldier without a battle to win? They are tossed away, discarded. No one is around to fight for them. Many have grown within the battle. They know no other world. They've never known peace. They will likely never meet it.

The final moment before a war ends is a cry throughout the universe, for a sacrifice must be made. Innocents must be slaughtered and plots must be hatched in order to end the terror. Something horrible must happen so the galaxy can be born anew. The cry is followed by the echo of all that has been lost. The innocence of the youth. The families that have been build up on the grave of their enemies. A father must fall in order for his child to escape, the boy's cry heard by no one who would help.

We were told we did a service to the Empire. That what we did was good. In recognition of our service and loyalty to the Emperor, the 501st were placed under the direct command of Lord Vader.Our presence let the galaxy know that the days of the Old Repbulic were well and truly over. We were establishing a new era, an era of order and peace.

I am afraid we will be replaced. There are rumors, whispers. That they're trying to replace the Clones. Maybe that won't be so bad. This has been going on so long. It doesn't end. We've been fighting the same evil as long as I can remember. I just want the nightmare to end. Please.

[fionajames]

From the one word prompt list: hiraeth

dreams of home

A/N: Hi, guys! I'm so so sorry I haven't been posting, like, at all, but y'all should have seen my schedule the past month, on addition to the fact I'm obsessed with Teen Wolf right now. shadowdragon, I'd just like to say, thank you so much for this request, I apologise for taking so long, and also apologise for the brutal feels ahead. I hope you enjoy, and as always please send requests guys! Oh, and also, please leave comments, I love them.

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

It had been seventy-two standard rotations since Order 66.

It had been seventy-two standard rotations since the fall of the Republic.

It had been seventy-two standard rotations since the rise of the Empire.

It had been seventy-two standard rotations since the massacre of the Jedi.

And, it had been seventy-two standard rotations since Obi-Wan’s family died.

He stared out at the lifeless sands of Tatooine, as he often did. Each breath he took was heavy and rasping against the abrasive, sandpaper-like feeling of the inside of his throat. Every sip of water did nothing to quench his thirst and pain.

Instead of the empty desert he saw the rolling rivers of lava, the tears falling from burning orange eyes, the sight of fire eating away at flesh. The scent of burning skin and hot, thick air choked him as he sat, suffocating him in the last memory of his brother. The words that his brother had wailed, driving a knife through him and twisting over and over and over, sinking deep into his blood like acid.

Obi-Wan placed his hands in the sand in front of him, splaying out his fingers and feeling the grains fill the gaps between his appendages. He attempted feebly to ground himself in the tan earth, but all he could hear was Anakin’s final screams. The hot air of Tatooine taunted him as a reminder of Mustafar.

Thoughts of Anakin always led to thoughts of Ahsoka. Oh, Ahsoka. So young, somewhere far away near Mandalore, lifeless. The absence of knowledge of what happened to the Togruta led to endless, haunting scenarios of her death. 

Most of the time she was on the ship, just leaving Mandalore, and Rex had appeared behind her, pistols aimed at her head. She’d had one moment to turn and see his face, mumbling a weak; “Rex…?”, before the Clone emotionlessly blasted her in the head, leaving nothing but the mutilated corpse of a teenager behind.

Obi-Wan had had plenty of time to meditate - not with the Force, no, he’d pushed that away - and yet he could never convince himself of one, inevitable truth. It’s all my fault.

He thought of Qui-Gon, and how if only Obi-Wan had been trapped behind the rayshield all those years ago, maybe the Jedi would still be alive. If only he’d been impaled by Maul, then maybe Qui-Gon training Anakin would have steered the brunet away from the call of the dark side. He’d never quite forgiven himself for watching the light fade from his Master’s eyes, and this only made it worse.

He couldn’t even find it in him to feel betrayed by Anakin. Instead, he felt as though he’d betrayed him. After all, it was his fault. His training had failed Anakin. He’d failed Anakin. No amount of meditation would ever change that. 

Nor could he blame Anakin. Instead he blamed himself. He thought of Ahsoka’s crippled, cold, dead body. His fault. He thought of the Younglings in the Temple, some not even old enough to walk. His fault. He thought of Aayla Secura, of Kit Fisto, of Ki-Adi Mundi. His fault. His fault. His fault.

Thousands of Jedi, dead, because he couldn’t teach one small boy what thousands of others lived by. 

Yes, everything was his fault. 

He longed for the days, early on in the war, when the three of them were on Coruscant. His family, safe, unscathed, happy. He thought of Ahsoka in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, her hands in the water as she watched the fish swim against her fingers, the way she’d giggled and laughed. He thought of Anakin, leaning against a tree trunk, finally content during their break from all the fighting, breathing so deeply Obi-Wan wondered momentarily if he was asleep.

He thought of all the other Jedi - many he’d never even met before - happily living their lives before the war. He thought of Younglings, huddling together in big groups to talk and running around corners, tumbling over their own feet before bouncing back up. He thought of Padawans hosting huge games of hide and seek, and tag in the Temple’s many rooms. He thought of young Knights, training together and helping each other through forms. He thought of Masters, discussing their Padawans’ journeys and looking after them. 

He thought of home.

Oh, did he miss it.

He longed for the days when Anakin was young where they’d play holochess and discuss tactics, or when they’d explore different planets. He remembered one time when Anakin had found a plant he considered the most beautiful thing ever, and insisted on taking it back with them to the Temple. He remembered even at the end of the war, spotting the blossoming, colourful flowers in the Knight’s room.

Obi-Wan wished he could have met Ahsoka before the war, when life was easier, happier, better. He had similar times with Ahsoka, though a lot fewer. He thought of times where he’d found Ahsoka reading, and spent afternoons listening to her thoughts on the literature. He remembered how happy she was when learning, when training.

Obi-Wan felt a lot of hiraeth for his home that once was. He knew now that he could never return to that home, and all he could do was hope that one day, he’d find a new home. 

He glanced to the side, spotting the little curved top of Owen and Beru’s farm, where little Luke Skywalker was somewhere inside. He smiled softly, anchoring himself against the tidal wave of memories to the thought of his brother’s child. 

He’d do his best to ensure that Luke got his home, some place where he belonged. Obi-Wan wished he could show Luke the Temple, alive and warm with Jedi. But the Jedi were gone, and this was the new life for Force sensitive children - hidden, frightened, cursed.

He thought of Anakin and Ahsoka, side by side, laughing. 

Yes, that was how he’d remember his family - the family he longed for, the family he harboured such deep, raw, hiraeth for. One day, he’d join them in another life. For now, he would make sure Luke found his home, his hiraeth.

A/N: So, yeah, I apologise, for that, but also, don't regret it. I hope you enjoyed though, and please send requests + leave comments!!! I love you all <3, stay safe.

(taglist: @skellymom, @techs-goggles9902, dm me if you wish to be added or removed)

[photosoft0ys]

Cornered

[trylynarie]

Just something to cry about

So you’re telling me that all the clones with ahsoka at the time of order 66, clones that repainted their dang helmets in likeness of their little sister cuz they were so happy to see her, clones that dropped protocol to call their no longer colander a commander weren’t also crying under the helmet like Rex was while having to aim at someone who they knew wasn’t a Jedi and left? Nah Jesse was just in a hanger lining up crying clones to fire on someone they loved.

[isurrendertoclones]

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[mylesbackshall]

CODY & REX

•I call this one Cody & Rex jungle recon!

Original art made by me Myles Backshall

I am open for commissions if anyone is interested :>

[lothcat-lothcat-lothwolf-run]

They know lmaooooooooo

[amberskyyking]

Clone Wars gave me big feelings and I accidentally wrote several hundred thousands words about it and now I’ve got fanfics (and paintings??) and pieces of my soul are on the internet and I blame the hat man. But turns out writing is cheaper than therapy and less likely to injure me than my other hobbies, so. Master list below! Please mind the tags and TWs.

Star Wars Long Fics Disillusioned - My big passion project story that started me down this rabbit hole in the first place! Cinnamon role rogue clone OCs and Luz the disaster pilot trip and fall into a series of rogue missions saving vode and taking names (mainly Krell, the name they are taking is Krell). 66 chapters long for… Reasons. 👀 Enemy - Sequel to Disillusioned, where big-hearted clones and a seriously pissed off Luz navigate the early seeds of a rebellion, doing their best to save each other and fuck the Empire while they're at it. Posting on Sundays! Dying Isn't Very Regulation - Fives should know better than to touch weird force shit, but what's the silver orb going to do? Kill him again? Pfft. (Time travel fix-it inspired by Snapback, by TooManyTeeth! With a sequel in the works - Murder Isn't Very Regulation, feat. Fox, because I have feelings okay???) Unattended Adiik'e Will Be Given Beskar'gam And A Free Tooka - Jaster Mereel finds a sad mandokarla child and Good-Buir-Jaster angst ensues (Written as a gift, but doubles as fic-therapy, I guess!) Implications Of Being Alive - Tech Lives but make it maliciously canon-compliant. That man is alive dammit, kriffing Domicile. Star Wars Short Fics & One Shots Facing Down Demons With A Drink In Hand - Captain Killswitch and his General have to face an old trauma in the form of his Jedi's old master, Pong Krell (Eventual series...?) You Trust Too Easily - Crosshair trusted the Bad Batch one too many times... And now it's too late. (Based off the BB S3 leak!!!) Brothers Gained Brothers Lost - Coruscant Guard CMO Stitch is fiercely loyal to Fox, and there's a fucking good reason for it. Collab work with TooManyTeeth! And part of a Corrie EU we've put together! How The Commander Crumbles - The story of Fox's downward spiral through the eyes of Stitch, who will never stop fighting for Fox's life, no matter how much darkness they face or how much of a self-sacrificing asshole Fox can be. Also part of the Corrie EU <3 Ten Out Of Ten - Fox stops himself from making a KMS joke. One thing leads to another, and the Corries throw the best talent show that Coruscant has ever seen.

Not-Star-Wars Fics, Lol Friend-Coded - Tron fic, post Legacy. Rinzler betrayed CLU. Rinzler fell into the Sea. Rinzler was not expecting to wake up in the presence of a *friend*.

PLANT BUIRE ART SERIES!!!! - I started painting clones with plants after making some jokes about it with TooManyTeeth and they're actually really fun?? I don't know how these guys are coming out of my own paint but they deserve lil plant friends!!! If you'd like a print of any of these please PM me! I'm glad to share the love <3 Commander Fox and his Cactus, cause he's a prickly guy Commander Wolffe and his Wolfsbane, he's proud it's so poisonous

[capthowzer]

hearing Temuera Morrison's voice...

as clone troopers during Order 66.

[evilhorse]

Batman ‘66 Meets the Legion of Super-Heroes #1

[torbins-braid]

a retired 501st trooper remembering Aayla after her death