#most annoying people on the planet to ever exist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

random-posts680 · 9 months ago

Text

“•Don’t come looking for me •” part 1

Part two: https://www.tumblr.com/random-posts680/750380195361538048/i-knew-youd-be-back

Feyd-Rautha x reader

A/n: this is a Drabble I’ve been working on for the past week and I will most likely make a part two!!

Synopsis: You use your job to hide on different planets from a family feud. While living on Giedi prime you catch the attention of the Na-Barron himself and create very close ties with him. The time you have on the planet though is unfortunately short lived, you flee, leaving behind the man you’d, unknowingly made fall in love with you, Feyd-rautha

Other mentions: soft!Feyd, Feyd is obsessed with reader, reader is oblivious, this turned out a bit angsty but part two will tie it up.

Warning: mentions of blood, mentions of death, blade to readers throat, blade mentioned, Feyd is a whole warning in himself.

Everyone knew how cruel and sadistic the Baron harkonnens nephew was.

Everyone knew just what he was capable of.

Anyone who’d ever talked to him without being murdered by his own hands would tell you he was truly terrifying and psychotic, a being who is completely incapable of any feelings such as love, vulnerability, gentleness….

Everyone knew that.

Everyone, but you.

You and feyd-Ruathas entire friendship was rooted from a mishap. You were someone from a far away planet who had come to study the ways of the harkonnens on Giedi Prime, at least that’s the job profile you displayed to them.

The day you arrived there, not a single harkonnen payed you much attention and you weren’t bothered by that, going about your business daily, studying the planet, and occasionally watching the brutal battles in the arena.

Not a soul on Giedi Prime had any idea who you were and what your actual reason was for exploring their planet, and you intended to keep it that way. Keeping your existence to a low and never acting out. Your appearance alone already stood out enough among the harkonnens. The last thing you needed was word getting out of your inhabitants on Giedi prime.

Life on the black and white planet wasn’t as bad as many people picked it out to be. You stuck to your “job” and lived peacefully in your guest coordinates. You ate well, slept well, and trained just fine on your own. Until the day your tranquility was disturbed.

That day you and him crossed paths was by far the most chaotic day you’d had on the planet. You had your things huddled in your arms, your com was ringing with a call from your research centre, your mind was thinking of the quickest way back to the guest chambers, yet your feet were taking you elsewhere.

After realizing you were completely lost, you took a bit to calm down and found the nearest bench along the walls of the stronghold and answered the com to update your work place of your progress on Giedi Prime.

Once the call was over, you grabbed your things, and once again realized you had no idea where the hell you were. You let out a sigh as you turned on your heels only to be met with a blade thrust up against your jugular.

Your feet instantly halted.

“Where are you wondering to?” The person holding the blade rasped out. ‘Shit’ Despite your initial panic, you just simply wanted to get back to your guest room, the day had already been stressful enough and you weren’t the type to be afraid of some sick harkonnen who wanted a rise out of a foreigner. ‘First few weeks on this damn planet and I’m about to get slaughtered for walking in the wrong area.’

You knew the harokenns were a driven race but this was just pretentious.

“I’m trying to find the guest chambers, this place is like a maze, I got lost along the way.” You drawled out, keeping the annoyed tone down a notch, doing your best to not anger the male with the blade.

Seconds went by before he withdrew the knife. As soon as he did you whipped around to face the offender and your heart hammered when you came face to face with the Na-Baron himself.

What you didn’t know is that when your eyes met, Feyd-rauthas heart started to hammer too.

The harkonnen paced around you a few times looking you up and down as you stood still, a skeptical look displayed on your face, yet an intrigued expression on his. ‘What the hell is he doing?’ Your train of thought was stopped when he came closer to you, his face neared yours, his breath tickled your nose and his lips twitched ever so slightly when he was just inches away.

Moments passed but with each one you felt your facade slipping away. You nervously drew your lips into a line as he made eye contact with you once again. His deep blue eyes held something that you couldn’t read. Your act was about to crumble before him.

A few more seconds passed and it was as if your unspoken prayers had been answered when he backed up and simply walked the other way down the hall. You watched with a perplexed look during his exit.

Once he was out of your line of sight you blinked away the look and shook off the interaction. ‘What the actual fuck just happened’ you were completely baffled. He just let you go, no further questions, didn’t give you any directions, and he had gotten so close?!?

You stood for a bit, conflicted. As for the Harkonnen himself, he was feeling waves of ambivalence.

He didn’t know if it was the beauty you possessed or the way your eyes seemed to sparkle with curiosity once you realized who he was, but from that moment on Feyd-Ruatha was infatuated with you.

The very next day he had come to find you. He’d looked into your cause and he was determined to be the one to show you the culture of the harkonnens.

At first, you weren’t amused with his persistence and it was a wonder to many how he didn’t just force you into letting him be around you. He was always finding ways to bother you after his duties and training. Being with you exhilarated him, the surge of emotions added a new type of pleasure to his days. He wasn’t going to give up an opportunity like this. And he definitely wasn’t going to let any other harkonnen be the one in his future spot next to you.

When you finally realized you weren’t getting rid of him you decided to accept it. You let him tag along on your explorations, let him teach you things about the planet, even going as far as him introducing you to his uncle and brother. (Which ended in Chaos and you two swore never again). Feyd had started to grow on you and you got used to his presence, you even started to enjoy it. It was nice having a friend on the planet, even one who was a blood thirsty murderer, but nonetheless, Feyd was never anything other than respectful and his interesting version of kind to you.

Each day was something new with you, while he was teaching you, you were also teaching him. You and him trained together, ate togther, and talked about almost anything and everything. The topics went from simple things to things that were more intimate and personal. You considered telling him the true reasons why you sprung from planet to planet “exploring,” but you decided it wasn’t wise considering that he may not understand or even believe you. Now, while you recall these memories you regret never telling him that you were in fact running from something.

Surprisingly, Feyd had actually opened up a few times and shared some of his twisted beliefs with you. Even if they were insane you did your best to understand him and point him in directions that would cause a lot less blood shed. To your surprise, he took some of your advice.

He hated how weak you could make him but at the same time he couldn’t get enough of you. He craved you deeply. Everyday he spent with you only made his need for you stronger. The smiles you’d give him, the gentleness of your hands when you would dress his wounds after an arena fight (If he ever had any injuries from the arena that is), the softness of your voice when you would teach him things from your home planet.

It was truly intoxicating to him.

Feyd was incredibly protective of you too. Not letting many get too close to you and always making sure you were unharmed by other harkonenns. Feyd himself had no desire to ever hurt you either, he actually despised the thought of hurting you altogether. It was one of the reasons he didn’t want to force your hand, no matter how badly he wanted his fantasies of you to come true, he knew he wouldn’t take joy in forcing them upon you.

It was safe to say you had worked miracles on him. You were the only being in the entire universe who could bring this side out of him.

Feyd-rautha loved you.

So the day you just disappeared out of no where was a day nobody enjoyed. When he’d realized your absence and was informed that no harkonnen on the face of Giedie prime had any idea where you had gone, he completely lost it. He killed everyone in the room with him in that moment.

He dropped as many bodies as he possibly could that day. Acting as though they were to blame for you disappearance.

He tried to track you, find a trail of where you may have gone, anything to bring you back to him. He looked for hours, not wanting to believe that the trail to your current location was completely cold. It was as if you’d vanished into thin air.

All of your belongings were left in your guest room. Nothing of yours was missing. The only thing that had gone missing the same day you did was…his blade.

The harkonnen thought the worst when he uncovered this detail. He thought of you fighting against some kind of enemy with his blade in hand, defending yourself all alone, while he had no way of protecting you. Feyd had never felt heartache but when he thought of you alone and scared, fighting for your life, it surged through his chest and even put warm, piercing lumps in his throat at times.

There was only one other piece of evidence, but it proved you were alive. A week after finding that his blade was missing he went to your room to search it once again. This time he found a note taped in one of your analysis journals. ‘I’m sorry, don’t come looking for me’ it’s writing was rushed and sloppy.

The harkonnen stared at it before the weight of the situation settled onto him. You had left, you had run away from him. But this also meant you were alive.

Feyds murderous tendencies only grew from then on. He killed for no reason now. Slaughtering anyone if they did something out of his comfort. His anger being taken out on servants, and the drugged slaves in the arena.

Feyd seemed to hate everything other than killing. But the one thing that drove him mad was the fact he couldn’t bring himself to hate you.

Each night he’d have dreams of you. Dreams of your hair flowing in the geidi prime wind. Your smile glowing as he shows you yet another trick of his. Your soft voice pulling him into a deep sleep. At the end of the day, this was the closest he could be to you. Sleep was his escape and Feyd-ruatha was desperate. He wasn’t ashamed to be lulled to sleep by the thought of you every night. His finger tips wrapping around the sheets when his dreams consisted of times with you.

Feyd and you and never been closer than mere friends but you also had no idea that you were everything to him.

Now, as you float through space months after you had made your escape, you replay those memories in your head. And you make a promise to yourself. You won’t get close with anybody again until you are done running.

————————————————————————-

A/n: Guys part two is coming

,I promise, I know this is ended sadly 😭

715 notes · View notes

rewh0re · 2 years ago

Text

─CUPID HIT ME WITH PRECISION ; ITOSHI RIN

-PURE FLUFF, 1.7k, enemies to lovers (more like harmless rivalry turned love), silly confessions, i ACTUALLY poured my whole being into this omg. I did proofread but if any mistake skipped my eye, forgive me:)

Rin liking you? Yea sure. As if you'd believe that.

Itoshi Rin was the absolute bane of your existence.

He was like some nasty weed growing in your otherwise perfect garden making the whole place just not very perfect.

Your friends would look at you, all bewildered and stunned as to how can someone despise the very lovable, the very endearing, the very handsome Itoshi Rin. All he actually ever did was mind his own damn business, didn't poke his nose into anyone's affair and just liked to keep to himself.

But you, you knew him. You knew him and his tendencies to criticise every living being on the planet for even breathing. His perfect facade lasted only so long until you actually talked to him. That is why most people liked him so, because he never actually talked to them.

You were assigned a project with him where you had to interview a certain group of people, and you could bet on your whole life that you had never come across someone as non cooperative as Rin. He kept flaking off due to "football practices." And he argued whenever he got the chance. He argued over the colours, the font, the whole project in general.

When the project was done and dusted and you thought 'oh, good riddance' he barged in again pointing out the little knick knacks about you.

He had friends, few in number but just as annoying by association or otherwise because why else would Isagi and Bachira just barge into your class during lunch and tell you that Itoshi Rin liked you.

"ITOSHI RIN LIKES WHO!?" your best friend quite literally dropped the wrap she was eating as the earth breaking, ground shattering news reached her ears.

Suddenly, your whole class stared at the source of the brand new, very juicy information in silence before breaking into whispers of shock and excitement.

You stared at the two peas for brains with your face twisted in disbelief because no, Rin is not physically or mentally capable of liking anybody. You out of all people? No chance.

"He likes you, y/n! You need to date him!" Isagi shook your frozen self as if trying to bring you back to earth.

"Ok first of all, calm down, everyone is staring and I don't like the whispers which are very audible by the way," you raised your voice towards the end of the sentence as you looked at the people in your class. They went back to their work in an instant.

"Second, good joke lol," you patted Isagi’s shoulder and resumed eating your lunch.

"It's not a joke, he likes you," Bachira announces, face pink with excitement,a wide grin on his face.

Before you could respond with probably something witty or disdainful about Rin, the bell rang and the boys scampered off to their class.

However much you wanted your life to be normal after that, it wasn't. There were whispers in the halls and they followed you everywhere you went. Whoever said that rumours spread like wildfire, was right. Especially in a high school where gossip hungry teenagers exist.

You passed by Rin several times after that, each time he'd look like he wanted to talk to you but said absolutely nothing. You did have maybe a few eye contacts and maybe just maybe you wondered what it would be like to date Rin, to hold his hand in yours and share kisses only to break out in hushed giggles afterwards. But you shook the thoughts away before they took over you completely.

"Can I talk to you?" You screamed as you felt a presence behind you. Slamming your locker shut, you turned around and hit the perpetrator who scared the actual living shit out of you.

"Don't scream, are you crazy?" Rin rubbed his shoulder which probably had become a little sore due to the impact of the hit.

"You snuck up on me!" You jabbed his chest.

"You hit me!" He rolled his eyes. God he was infuriating.

"You-" you started but were rudely interrupted instead.

"Yeah I know I'm annoying. You've mentioned. Now, back to my question. Can we talk?"

You stared at the towering boy suspiciously, "about what?"

"Follow me," with that he began walking, hands in his pocket and grandeur exuding from his stature.

"Hey!" He never answered your call leaving you no scope but to follow the boy in lead.

He had long legs which meant you were quite some paces behind him screaming at him to walk slower, garnering stares and laughs from certain students. He never listened. He kept going until you reached your school field. As academic classes were going to start, it was fairly empty, leaving behind a few pigeons and crows. The field was lined with some flowering trees, petals from which were scattered on the ground. Rin leaned on one of the barks and looked at you, in all your panting state, with his lazy eyes.

And then something happened. Such a once in a blue moon occurrence it was that you couldn't quite process it. You could swear you saw his lips turn upwards to form what was maybe a smile and you heard what could be the word cute. You probably were hallucinating from the speedwalking you had to go through to catch up with him.

"What did you just call me?" You asked for confirmation.

"I called you cute," he confirmed.

You didn't quite know how to reciprocate to that. It was new, it was rare but somehow, it was welcomed.

"So, I'm pretty sure that those idiots told you something about me? You know, with all the rumours?" And suddenly you noticed his hands. His fingers fidgeting with each other, his eyes cast upon the ground.

"Which idiots?" He spared you a momentary glance which said not to play with him right now. You smiled at his slight annoyance. A win is a win.

"Bachira and Isagi. They told you I liked you," he sighed as he rubbed his hand across his face and looked away.

"Yeah they did and I didn't believe them," you simply shrugged.

"Look, I'm not very experienced in the matter of love and relationships. I've never really felt any kind of strong feeling for anyone, especially love. It's very foreign to me," he gulped, eyes still on the ground.

"I know I was mean to you but I didn't know how else to approach you because honestly, I suck at small talk or deep talk or any kind of talk at all. I'm sorry I was not the kindest to you, I'm sorry I didn't show you that I hold feelings for you which at this point might be a little more than a crush. I'm sorry you had to hear this from those two absolutely stupid idiots before hearing it from me. Yeah, y/n, I like you. Quite a bit actually," he finished and by now your jaw was on the ground because why was Rin being a normal actually nice human being? You don't know how long you stood like that with your mouth open and eyes wide but somewhere a crow cawed and you returned back to the land of living.

"That was an apology," you stated.

"Kind of. Yeah, I guess," he folded his arms now and looked at you. There was pink on his cheeks.

"And definitely a confession," he pointed out, rubbing his neck.

"And definitely a confession," you hated yourself for the butterflies that fluttered inside you at the thought.

"Since when are you so....I don't know, not awful?" You spoke in a haze. You've gotten confessions, but one from who you thought was your archnemesis was bound to leave you kind of speechless.

He scrunched his eyebrows, lips forming a pout, "I'm not awful."

"No, now that I think of it, you're not really," you let out a soft giggle.

Rin might have been the bane of your existence at some point but somewhere along the path, you had stopped associating him with weeds and somehow associated him with flowers blooming in the gardens. He had pointed out your little knick knacks but he had also stood up for you once when you got into an argument with a batchmate. He had shared homework with you, taking out time to explain each problem to you when you specifically asked him not to, even when you were clearly suffering and desperately needed it. He had once put a bandaid on your knee muttering how careless you are. Rin was insufferable once but at some point you couldn't really go without initiating any type of contact with the boy. Rin was insufferable but he had never, ever crossed the line.

"So? Do I get an answer today or will you make me wait?" Under all his facade of being unbothered, he was so nervous. So damn nervous.

"You're not too bad," you smiled at him, poking your cheek with your tongue.

"Is that a yes or a no," he came close to you, grabbing you by the hand. He looked at your intertwined hands and then in your eyes.

"You never asked me a yes or a no question Rin," you maintained your smile as you stared at him.

"Go out with me? Yes or no," All his nervousness left his body somehow, as he became more confident and direct. It was torture enough to have hid the fact from you for so long. He wanted an answer.

You kissed his cheek softly, letting your lips hover over them as you pecked him again before you started walking away, grinning at him widely. Your hands were behind you as you feigned your innocence.

"We'll be so late for class and it will all be your fault, Itoshi Rin," Oh he got the answer alright.

"That's a yes or a no, l/n?" He screamed at your scampering figure as he hid his laughter behind a smile.

You turned around, cupping your mouth as you yelled at him, "pick me up this Saturday at 5 and you'll get your answer Itoshi."

With that you ran off leaving a quite jumpy and excited Itoshi Rin behind. Oh, he could not wait for Saturday.

#bllk #blue lock #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #rin fluff #rin x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk rin #blue lock rin #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin x you #rin x y/n #blue lock x reader fluff #—storytelling🌙

1K notes · View notes

rose-tries-to-write · 7 months ago

Text

Things I’ve learned about Danny Phantom after finally watching it as a person who avoided watching it for months and read fanfiction instead. 👍🏻✨

Spoiler warning, just in case!

They call themselves the Phandom. (Super cute, I love it, 10/10)

Everything, and I mean Absolutely Everything I’ve learned, is a fucking Lie. (Not fun. I have to rewrite my entire understanding. I feel betrayed. Offended. Gobsmacked. My flabbers are mf gasted. -5/10)

The show is actually really funny. (I enjoyed my experience. 9/10)

Fuck Phantom Planet. (What the fuck was that shit? Um, rewind, redo, no thx, give me back the ghostie boy please. I genuinely didn’t even finish the episode, I got to where he un-died and had to turn it off. I refuse to watch it now. 0/10)

The Phandom was right to steal canon and make it our bitch. (Trans Danny? More Dani/Ellie screen time? Actual plot and lore for the show? Actual in-depth thought to ghosts and their culture? Um, yes please. 1000/10)

Frostbite actually is a doctor. (I don’t know why, but I thought it was another thing the Phandom made up. Love to see it, 10/10)

Wes Weston deserves his own episode. (What do you mean he doesn’t actually exist. What do you mean I don’t get my LGBTQ+ undertones. This is homophobic /j. -10/10)

How do you tell when a ghost is intangible, invisible, or both?? (The show doesn’t have a differentiator between the two, so I’m always confused if people can just see him floating through walls. 3/10)

Guys in White literally do nothing but be annoying. (Another case of the Phandom Lying to us. I love it though, they make really good antagonists. 7/10)

The Fentons are stupid and mildly aggressive, but they do love their kids. (I read a lot of vivisection, child neglect, and general Bad Parents fics so excuse me on that front. 8/10)

Danny didn’t actually beat Pariah Dark? (I love the Ghost King Danny fics, so to find out all he did was shove him into a sarcophagus was a bit of a bummer. He struggles more with Undergrowth than the actual king, like?? 6/10)

He can reach inside himself to take things out. (He ate a spoon in one ep and just reached inside himself to take it out. Pretty cool. 9/10)

Is he actually dead? (Phantom Planet makes it seem as if he just got a bit too high a dose of ectoplasm in his system and it fucked him up, how else could he have just undone the damage? But, most of the Phandom says he legit died in the portal, in which case he could not have gone in and just un-killed himself like he did in Phantom Planet. I think he died, personally. More trauma and angst for my writing. ??/10)

Clockwork appears a lot less than I thought he would. So does Frostbite. (I thought with how much they appear in the Phandom, they must have really important and constant roles, but no. They appear very rarely. Sad face. 5/10)

Vlad sucks. (Vlad fucking sucks. 0/10)

Dani/Ellie is much younger in appearance than I thought. (I looked her up for reference when I first started reading the fics, but she looked 14-15. She actually looks 6-7 years old in show. They literally call her a kid. 8/10)

Dani is what she chose to be called, not a funny joke the Phandom played on itself. (I though it was a silly little haha moment. Nope. The show just… named her that. I think Ellie is the Phandoms choice in calling her?? 8/10)

Why is Danny obsessed with Paulina even while crushing on Sam? (He is actively blushing and flirting with Sam and then they’ll turn around and he’s jumping at the chance to talk to Paulina?? Hate it. 0/10)

Danny and Dash don’t actually date. (I saw this circle around the Phandom a bit, thought it was cute if a bit weird, and then it didn’t happen? 6/10)

No obsessions, no cores, no real reason for the ghosts to be terrorizing Amity Park. (I legit thought it was real in-verse stuff, I’m so disappointed in the lack of it in the show. It could have been so good. 3/10)

Danny doesn’t actually become friends with his ghosts. (They don’t really get along, ever. They don’t talk outside of fighting, except for those who actually like him. Missed opportunity. 4/10)

His Space obsession is actually just a few mentions of him wanting to be an astronaut? (I thought he genuinely had an obsession with the stars and we’d see a lot of him stargazing or word-vomiting about his hyper fixation, but no. Sad. 4/10)

He does go stargazing (maybe?) and flies around when he’s not fighting. (We see him going off as Phantom in the episode where Jazz finds out about him. There are no battles and he looks like he’s having fun flying around. 10/10)

He was called Inviso-Bill?? (Hilarious, I love it, why did no one ever tell me this. 7/10)

He says “Going Ghost!” every time he transforms. Every fucking time. (It’s annoying, it’s ugly, I hate it. I am so glad no fics mentioned this or used it, I think I’d go insane. -1000/10)

That’s all I got for today, and probably for a while. I just wanted to write it down for fun, but I might post more like this eventually.

132 notes · View notes

drunkenskunk · 11 months ago

Text

So I've been playing a lot of Helldivers II, and it's really fun!

(at least, it is when the servers are working lmao)

However: there is one thing about the game that annoys me. It's the same thing that always annoys me whenever drop pods are mentioned in science fiction.

Nobody ever seems to get them right!

Whenever drop pods show up, they always seem to depict each pod as a single projectile rocketing towards the surface of a planet, usually behind enemy lines. They're the logical sci fi evolution of airborne infantry dropping in by parachute, because a lot of military sci fi tropes have trouble moving past WWII. And, y'know, that's fine. That's not the issue I have.

The issue is the single projectile part.

It's almost like every writer who includes drop pods forget that anti-aircraft weapons and SAM sites are currently a thing in the real world and would almost certainly still exist and be better in the science fiction space future. Those drop pods rocketing towards the surface would present the juiciest targets imaginable and would almost certainly get shot out of the sky before they even got close to impacting on the surface.

Annoyingly, the only sci fi that I know of to ever get drop pods right is the first one to ever do it: the Starship Troopers novel by Robert Heinlein.

Now, say what you will about Heinlein - and I do, quite often. For the most part, he's not that great of a writer, and his politics are terrible. The man was an asshole who loved writing wet farts of fascist porn, and the novel absolutely pales in comparison to Paul Verhoeven's 1998 masterpiece of satire, where he took one look at the book, rolled his eyes, and started making jerk-off motions.

But when I first read the novel when I was, like, 6 years old, I was a dumbass child and didn't notice (or care) about the... I mean, I'd call it "fascist subtext" except that it's literally just The Text. No, what drew me in was the one singular thing Heinlein was actually good at writing: technical sequences, written from an in-universe lens.

The way he described how the drop pods actually work in the first few pages of the novel - and, more importantly, how they don't immediately get shot out of the sky - is great! It makes sense, it's easy to understand (because Johnny Rico is, let's be honest: an idiot, he's not going to give you a complicated explanation), and it fills in a plot hole you never realized was there.

For as many faults as the man had as both a writer and a human being, and for all the many problems the rest of the book has, that first chapter - and specifically the drop pod sequence - is a great hook.

Like, this is the template for drop pods. This is The Thing that people are referencing whenever drop pods show up in sci fi, like in fucking Halo, or Starcraft, or Warhammer 40k. And everyone always seems to forget the single most important thing about this infantry delivery system: the countermeasures.

I dunno. This is just one of those things that's always annoyed me.

#drunk skunk rant #scifi #drop pods #Helldivers #Helldivers 2 #Helldivers II #Starship Troopers #Robert A Heinlein

170 notes · View notes

chororine · 4 months ago

Text

let's talk about Cubert Farnsworth

something nobody said during the production of season 7

The most striking thing about Cubert, to me, is the fact that in the most literal sense possible, he had no childhood.

Well, no early childhood – in “A Clone of My Own”, we see Cubert spring into existence as a fully-formed twelve-year-old, having only previously existed in a “mentally undeveloped” state in a tank in Professor Farnsworth’s basement. This is obviously convenient from a writing standpoint, allowing Futurama’s showrunners to introduce a new character effectively out of nowhere (their original plan to do so in “A Big Piece of Garbage” having fallen through) – but I think it also explains a lot about Cubert from an in-universe perspective, and makes an interesting lens through which to view one of the show’s most divisive characters.

Generally speaking, we as viewers are used to meeting characters and then witnessing their backstory, either all at once or in small chunks scattered across episodes - Futurama itself goes as far back as Fry, Leela and Bender’s births in seasons 3, 4 and 3 respectively – but Cubert is in the unique position of his “birth” (so to speak) also being his introduction to the audience. While most of that audience simply brushed his character off as “annoying” and that was the writers’ intention according to the audio commentary for his debut episode, I want to set authorial intent aside for now and focus strictly on what the text shows us: someone who was artificially created for a specific purpose, like Bender, raised without a traditional family, like Leela, and who entered the world of the 31st century through a glass tube, like Fry.

Despite having a surprising amount in common with our three main heroes, Cubert is markedly different from them in his actual personality, which (at first) is driven largely by reason and logical sense, and that… well, makes logical sense. As with most of the sci-fi concepts Futurama employs in the service of good stories and jokes, the show glosses over the finer details of how Cubert can emerge from the cloning tank with all his motor skills and the ability to form sentences, but it’s reasonable to assume that whatever arcane scientific process the Professor used prioritises imbuing the clone with concrete knowledge over anything subjective. Cubert’s behaviour corroborates this: the very first piece of knowledge he displays is (in a quiet subversion of cloning tropes) self-knowledge, namely the knowledge that he’s a genius.

ok so the park line isn’t strictly relevant but cmon you can’t quote this scene without it

Cubert’s approach to suddenly springing to life with a ready-made body and personality is to engage with the adults around him head-on: said personality is pompous, pedantic and pugnacious (...as in “confrontational”, not as in a crack about his nose). He struts into Planet Express like he owns the place (which, of course, he will one day) right in the middle of season 2, the point where it’s safe to say the audience and characters (even fish-out-of-water Fry) have both adjusted to the show’s status quo: Professor Farnsworth can create anything as long as it’s funny or convenient to the plot (or both); Bender is an integral part of the “family”; Leela can beat up anyone who deserves it. But Cubert, who was abruptly thrust into the midst of that status quo, relentlessly questions it: how exactly would scientists “increase the speed of light”? What use would a delivery company have for a bending unit? Should Leela really fly with just one eye? Audiences and characters alike generally like sticking to the status quo (as this ever self-aware show pointed out back in “When Aliens Attack”), so it’s really no wonder Cubert rubbed people on both sides of the fourth wall the wrong way.

you know someone’s being insufferable when not even Turanga “it’s not his fault he’s an unstoppable killing machine” Leela likes them lol. believe it or not this IS a pro-Cubert post stick with me here

Questioning established norms is no bad thing, but the way Cubert goes about it is very... blunt, and far from endearing: he’s dismissive of the Professor’s “junk heap” of inventions and viciously mocks the Planet Express crew, painting people he’s only just met as incompetent and, later in the episode, calling Fry an idiot to his face. Make no mistake, this is… as we say in my neck of the woods, it’s not on. But while Cubert’s lack of socialisation “growing up" doesn’t excuse his tactlessness, it might very well explain it - along with him lacking the childlike wonder his fellow suspended animation survivor, Fry, felt at being thrust headlong into a world where the only limit to science is imagination. To use the episode’s Arc Words, “nothing is impossible”... except, it would seem, Cubert fitting in with the misfits who make up Planet Express.

Professor Farnsworth is eager to take Cubert under his wing, but also demonstrates where the latter gets that bluntness, being transparent about his intent to have his clone “spend his life finishing his inventions”. With that in mind, perhaps it’s not surprising that Cubert initially attempts to distance himself from the Professor, coldly referring to him as… well, “Professor”.

This is a detail that’s easy to miss or overlook on first viewing of the episode, but it effortlessly and efficiently explains what kind of relationship between the two Cubert initially desired: he acknowledges that they share DNA, but would prefer a “creator-creation” dynamic – perhaps akin to a robot and their maker - over anything familial. He states his disinterest in fulfilling his intended purpose as an inventor without a trace of the self-doubt that plagued Bender upon quitting his job and meeting Fry (or in the face of being replaced by a more up-to-date robot, or of being forgotten, or…), creating the impression that Cubert has a good deal more confidence and self-awareness than even an adult in a similar position to him, but also that he’s – let’s be fair to him – a complete dick, pointedly declaring himself the Professor’s “only half-decent invention”.

But as is often the case in fiction, that complete dickery serves a purpose in creating the catalyst for the episode’s fast-paced third act: the dejected Professor checking himself into cyber-retirement. In a perfect example of the characters’ recently-found comfort with the status quo, Fry immediately expresses a desire to rescue his boss who causes him more problems than he solves (what with the potentially fatal delivery missions and all), but who’s also family - a sentiment his non-blood relatives, or at least Leela, seem to share.

The only person at Planet Express who questions this desire is - who else - Cubert, but Fry brushes off his concerns with a well-placed “nothing is impossible” (the episode’s second use of the phrase). As an implicit reminder of Cubert’s status as a misfit among misfits, he, as a child character among a cast of adults, lacks the agency to avoid getting dragged along on the rescue mission for reasons that aren’t initially clear, to him or the audience.

It turns out Cubert’s purpose on the trip to the Near Death Star is to be both a DNA donor and part of Fry’s 160-year-old man disguise. Our three heroes do most of the heavy lifting (literally in Fry’s case), relegating Cubert to what he initially does best: complaining. While he does express a bit of (at this point) uncharacteristic concern for the comatose Professor, it comes after he airs his grievances about the ridiculousness of Leela’s plan, having to be Fry’s hump and the “stupid robot” – so maybe it’s a bit of well-placed karma that he gets knocked out mid-chase scene by a passing space station door, neatly excising him from the episode’s narrative.

...or so it would seem: in reality, the episode’s final two scenes circle right back to Cubert and his character arc. He springs awake to deliver the episode’s third and final “nothing is impossible”, having finally internalised the truth of it - and the secret of how to fix the ship’s damaged engines - thanks to a conveniently-timed dream (a borderline deus ex machina that may be an allusion to Groening and Cohen’s inspiration for Cubert, Wesley Crusher of Star Trek: The Next Generation – I did say at the beginning I was going to set authorial intent aside “for now”). Despite this apparent 180, Cubert demonstrates that he’s still fundamentally himself by shooting down Bender’s labelling of his discovery about the ship’s engines as “a complete load”. Evidently, Cubert’s nocturnal, almost divine revelation enabled him to use his sharp tongue for good rather than evil, as this discovery and Cubert’s quick repair of the engine is what allows the main trio and Farnsworths to safely escape from the Sunset Squad.

The episode’s conclusion uses a few well-chosen words and pieces of animated-acting to bring many aspects of Cubert’s character full circle. Most obvious among these is the conflict of whether or not he’ll fulfil his intended purpose; the Professor granting Cubert permission not to is a noble but ironic gesture, as the latter admits to having accepted his destiny, but only on his terms: not as a copy, but as a family member. Futurama, at its best, is masterful at showing and not telling; for instance, because Cubert initially addressed his creator as “Professor”, him switching to “Dad” completely unprompted feels like a display of agency as well as love.

And because Cubert had no childhood, him smiling with his whole face for the first time in the episode also marks him doing so for the first time in his life.

Let’s take a brief step back outside the text itself and look at it in relation to the various reactions viewers have had to it, because the episode’s resolution is something that… well, viewers have had varying reactions to. Looking up the episode on Wikipedia, you’ll find a citation of The A.V. Club’s review: one Zach Handlen wasn’t a fan, claiming that “[Cubert’s] shift from “This is stupid and doesn’t make any sense” to “Anything is possible!” doesn’t make a lot of sense”. YouTuber Johnny 2 Cellos seemed to enjoy the episode and Cubert’s character considerably more, but still said of Cubert’s decision to follow in his father’s footsteps that he’s “not sure [it] was the best lesson” - and honestly, they both raise valid points. Cubert’s change of heart is rather abrupt, and a step removed from the typical feel-good narrative of choosing your own destiny and becoming whatever you want… but nonetheless, I do think it’s a plus for his character, and to explain why I need to go back to the very first episode of the show.

The aforementioned “choosing your own destiny” narrative is so prevalent that Futurama itself has played with it from the beginning – and I do mean “played with”, not “used wholesale”. This is, of course, a fantastical show, but it always keeps a degree of emotional realism close to its heart; part of that realism is Fry’s one-way trip into the future not being the straightforward wish fulfilment he initially expected, as his new life still involves having a job, and it’s nominally the same dead-end job he once longed to escape. But Fry isn’t resigned to this: instead, he accepts the hand the universe has dealt him and makes it work for him…

…in fact, the theme of accepting one’s fate on one’s own terms is a theme that runs through Futurama all the way to the end of the original run.

And right in the middle of that run lies Cubert, perfectly exemplifying that nuanced theme with little more than the word “Dad.”

That choice to – again - show and not tell the change in how Cubert views his creator-father is something that I feel mitigates the suddenness of his change of outlook: wanting to emulate one’s father is a different feeling than wanting to emulate one’s creator, and a very human feeling... as is having sudden, eye-opening experiences in one’s preteen years. Cubert’s arc in this episode could be seen as a microcosm of growing up, and as a story of someone who thought he knew everything realising he still has growing up to do… and about a season later, we get to see him do some of that growing up.

Much like Cubert himself was initially intended as one thing and grew into another (on both meta and in-universe levels), I started this post with the intent to analyse him as a character but it ended up more focused on “A Clone of My Own” specifically – I might as well continue on this path and analyse “The Route of All Evil” as well. However, I don’t feel the need to do so quite so meticulously simply because Cubert is a far more straightforward character in the latter episode - and that in itself speaks volumes about what’s going on under that ginger muffin-shaped haircut.

This episode provides an explanation of Cubert’s absence throughout the second half of season 2, a glimpse into the life he’s been living off-screen at boarding school and something any good character needs: a companion to bounce off of. Dwight has less distinct characterisation than Cubert (partly as a result of having one less episode worth of development at this point), but I do think what he does have is worth analysing. I won’t do so too deeply, at least not here, simply because it’d be outside the scope of this post, but I will touch on the aspects that are relevant to my point: the ways in which he complements and contrasts Cubert.

Cubert and Dwight are similar in their intellect, precociousness, love of retro video games (really retro by the year 3002) and in being besieged by a bully, but the latter is less talkative and more chilled-out (as exemplified by him having no visible reaction to his best friend being sent flying by a mail tube), yet more business-minded: his immediate reaction to being presented with something new (always a fun way to tell us about a character) is to question its value as a product… while Cubert’s reaction to the same new thing is to use it for a prank.

As he demonstrated with Bender at the end of “A Clone of My Own”, Cubert hasn’t lost his fire in gaining respect for his father’s line of work: again, him addressing the Professor as “Dad” says a lot with few words, and remembering the context of his debut episode makes his “useless contraption” comment feel more like playful ribbing than genuine dismissal. Indeed Cubert spends much of the first act of this episode causing annoying-but-ultimately-harmless problems for the adults around him, along with Dwight, who evidently shares his interest in pranks. That interest of his wasn’t explicitly shown in his debut, but feels like a natural offshoot of his sarcastic sense of humour... and could also be chalked up to the change from the ultimate sheltered upbringing to a “normal” school environment. That in itself is a refreshing approach for the show to take: while probably done for simplicity’s sake, it shows that Cubert’s clone status is no barrier to him enjoying a normal childhood, as Leela’s orphan status was to her, or Bender’s robot status sometimes is to him sharing his adulthood with his organic friends (but the specifics of Cubert’s school life are more within the realm of speculation and headcanons, so I won’t dwell on them here).

Of course, the main thrust of “The Route of All Evil”’s plot is Cubert and Dwight’s business endeavour: Awesome Express. Again, I don’t need to analyse their motivations for founding their own delivery company too closely, because… well, Dwight outright states them in the episode.

Most people can relate, on some level, to wanting a loved one to be proud of them; a desire so universal is a perfect demonstration of Cubert’s newfound normality. It’s a sharp turn from his apparent superiority complex over his father and future employees in “A Clone of My Own”, but clearly one that made him happier: the permanent smug grin of his debut episode has given way to laughter at Hermes’ expense, casually sharing Dwight’s game console, celebrating their victory over Brett Blob (or rather his window)… I could list more, but you get the point. Enjoying the childhood that started twelve years too late without really dwelling on it feels like a natural evolution from where we left Cubert in season 2 – but not a wholesale change, as he still possesses the spark of madness he inherited from his father.

In the process of running Awesome Express, Cubert and Dwight make both upstanding and underhanded decisions: they have the prodigious business skills to quickly become more profitable than Planet Express, and rather than frivolously spending their earnings, they put them towards fair wages for their new employees Leela, Bender and Fry… and the absolutely vital flame decals for the ship.

Not all their decisions are that ethically sound or badass, though: Cubert and Dwight ultimately kick out and fire their fathers, respectively. Professor Farnsworth becoming homeless (though Hermes and LaBarbara are willing to at least temporarily put him up) as a result of his son’s hubris is another time I can see where Cubert’s haters are coming from, along with his moments of ableism directed at Leela’s vision problems and Fry’s… er, That Brain Thing – but karma swiftly comes down upon him and Dwight when they grow overconfident with their workload, leading to the first time we see Cubert cry on-screen (one of only two unambiguously canon times in the entire show) and the aforementioned admission of their motivations.

Luckily for the boys, their fathers recognise the purity of their motivations enough to forgive them for their questionable behaviour, and are quick to “do a little father-son weaselling out of this”. Professor Farnsworth and Hermes prove their love for their sons with actions, not words, solving their problem with the former’s arsenal of gadgets and the latter’s perfect aim as a “paper-man”... and ultimately put themselves through the ringer by attempting to fight the father of their sons’ bully, Mr. H. G. Blob. This one-sided “fight” results in slapstick humour, but also a show of Futurama’s emotional realism shining through its often cynical sensibilities.

This episode’s ending focuses more on “three fathers, enjoying a day out with their sons” as a group than Cubert or Dwight as individuals, but that in itself is a nice way to bring this duology of episodes full circle: Cubert is Professor Farnsworth’s son, no different from how Dwight and Brett are Hermes and H.G.’s sons. Perhaps he does fit into the abnormal, non-traditional family that is Planet Express after all.

fun fact: “Planet Espresso” dropped while I was still writing this post and it made “The Route of All Evil” hit different now I know Hermes in particular was working extra hard to end the cycle of parental neglect. not relevant to the whole “Cubert good” point but still interesting, at least to me

Now, you’re probably thinking that this is the part where I talk about “Bender Should Not Be Allowed On TV”, and… yeah. You’re technically right, I will briefly touch on it – but it won’t be complimentary.

Someone being “out of character” is a common complaint when it comes to TV show writing, but I’ll be completely honest: in my opinion, having Cubert, a character whose whole deal used to be questioning the status quo and authority figures (and in “The Route of All Evil” trying to surpass them), open the episode by admitting he and his equally precocious best friend want to mindlessly emulate what they see on TV goes beyond “out of character”. Cubert and Dwight’s intellectual-yet-rebellious nature would’ve served this plot perfectly, as it would’ve provided an opportunity for the writers to call attention to them not acting like themselves as a result of Bender’s influence – but the key gap between idea and execution is that the adults around them don’t treat their mindless viewing habits as something out of the ordinary for them. A simple “this isn’t like you” from the Professor or Hermes would’ve gone a long way, but as it is, it feels as though the boys’ past characterisation was intentionally ignored in order to more easily execute a storyline that could’ve been done in The Simpsons, with Bart and Milhouse succumbing to the allure of a newly-famous Homer’s bad influence.

In particular, the line “we can celebrate the day I extracted you from the cloning tank” kind of breaks my brain: we’ve seen that day in the show, and the more I go back to this episode, the more I feel like there’s nothing left of the Cubert the Professor extracted from the cloning tank – the one I just spent five pages analysing - in this specific Cubert (or the Dwight who crushed Planet Express with Dwight Lightning in this Dwight, for that matter). No scientific skills, no use of his trademark snort, no biting-but-good-natured jabs at his adult companions… nothing. To be fair, the episode does have a few nice ideas (the concept of a Growth Scraping Day itself, Tinny Tim becoming the third member of the kids’ friend group and them getting to do a little crime as a treat), but they’re so thoroughly surrounded by… well, everything else that I personally choose not to incorporate this episode into my mental picture of Cubert (or Dwight).

I’ll be the first to admit there are a lot of duds and weird writing choices among the post-revival episodes of Futurama, but I also think fans of the show have a tendency to put the Fox era on a pedestal while completely dismissing the later seasons - even though “Bender Should Not Be Allowed On TV” (along with “Bend Her” but that’s a rant for another time) proves that even season 4, often touted as the show’s peak, can be as guilty of bad characterisation or formulaic plots as the Comedy Central or Hulu eras. Conversely, season 6 in particular was flawed but did plenty of things right, and one of those things was using Cubert in interesting ways: “The Late Philip J. Fry” is the most famous example, but “A Clockwork Origin” and “Overclockwise” are both notable for succeeding at building on the foundation laid out in “A Clone of My Own” and “The Route of All Evil” - where Cubert’s last outing of the original run failed.

Whether that foundation was laid down intentionally or simply as a compromise between multiple creators, writers and directors that happened to meet a particular subjective reading, to me it’s an incredibly strong one: a fish-out-of-water who was abruptly thrust into the chaotic world of the 31st century but survives and thrives in his own funny, interesting, slightly unhinged way, just like Fry, Leela or Bender. Cubert isn’t for everyone, but I hope I’ve demonstrated why he resonated with me so much when I watched the show at his age, and why thinking of him as simply “the annoying kid” was… well, impossible.

This post is long enough as it is, so rather than analysing “The Late Philip J. Fry” (well, enough people have analysed that one already that I don’t really need to) and the two “clock” episodes of season 6, I’ll leave you with the suggestion to (re)watch them yourself with an open mind… and to keep an eye out for Cubert in the Hulu run. As I alluded to at the top of this post, season 7 conspicuously pretended he didn’t exist outside of one dubiously canon skit, so maybe it’d be too much to hope for future seasons to explore him in detail… but as a wise old man and his son once said, nothing is impossible.

Not if you can imagine it.

THANK YOU FOR READING (or at least skimming) ALL THE WAY TO THE END OF THIS POST!!! as a reward for indulging my autism please treat yourself to a nice turducken spread with your found family. merry hulurama to all and to all a good night

#futurama #cubert farnsworth #cubert j. farnsworth #character analysis #WARNING: LOOOOONG. like 4k words and 6 and a half pages in LibreOffice long #and image heavy. i had to frankenstein a lot of screenshots together to fit the 30 image limit if that gives you an idea #but i poured a lot of autistic love into this post so it'd mean a lot if you read or at least skimmed it #feel free to voice your disagreement/agreement/alternate cubert interpretations or observations in the replies/reblogs #like the title says i want people to talk about him more that's all!!!

32 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 11 months ago

Note

I know it's totally wrong for what you're shooting for but your stories make me feel bad for Clark. All these folks judging him, when as far as he can tell Kon doesn't even want to be around him. And honestly, he's had clones before. No one expected him to mourn when a Bizarro degraded

. . . okay, friend, first off I apologize, because I def got carried away with this response and it turned into a bit of a rant, hah. Please don't take any of this the wrong way or get the impression I'm annoyed by this ask or anything, I just fundamentally disagree with SO many things about how Clark's relationship with Kon has been handled in canon and apparently I had to word-vomit a lot of that out here and now in explanation of why I tend to write Clark as being Objectively Wrong about Kon/how he treats Kon.

A) There's no convincing reason I can think of that Clark should think Kon doesn't want to be around him, and if he DID, why would he have given him permission to wear the El crest to begin with, much less offered him either the name "Superboy" or "Kon-El"? Especially Kon-El, because that's a name that originated from a specifically ADOPTED member of his birth family, and Clark offered it to him while CALLING him family, but also . . . lying to him about having a secret identity? And whole-ass other life??

and also

B) I actually WOULD expect Clark to mourn a Bizarro degrading. That's like his whole deal, in my experience of him across various media: Clark Kent is a person who thinks that every person matters and is undeniably the kind of guy that would be upset by someone suffering from genetically-inevitable degradation. Especially if the people suffering that degradation only exist to suffer it because HE, Clark "I Am Personally Responsible For This Whole Damn Planet, And Yes That IS A Threat" Kent, exists.

Like, Clark always takes way too much on himself. So it doesn't really make sense to me that a dude like that would take one look at a kid with his own face who is actually at best about a month old and just decide "yeah, this person doesn't need me ever involved in their life at all" and STICK with that assessment even through repeated problems, near-death experiences, and straight-up disasters. ESPECIALLY because Clark already knew Matrix, and she was ALSO a genetic experiment who'd been made in his image by someone he didn't have any reason to trust. But he still took Mae to his parents' farm and let her live there pretty much immediately, trusted her with SO many of his secrets and even trusted her living with his parents without, again, having to jump through ANY of the MULTITUDE of hoops that Kon did to earn a similar level of trust, and she eventually started dating literal LEX LUTHOR and Clark still trusted her after THAT!

( I mean, I think everyone thought Lex was his own son at the time or something weird like that, Because Comics, but still! STILL!! )

Shit, Clark still trusted Mae after she had a mental breakdown ON HIS PARENTS and tried to attack him and had a severe enough psychotic break that she thought she literally WAS him! Mae very quickly proved herself to be WAY more dangerous and hostile than Kon has EVER been outside of being directly mind-controlled, but from the jump Clark is way more invested in her and her life and CARES way more about her and her life. And later he responds to Kara just as differently as he did Mae, despite her ALSO debuting as both a more dangerous and more hostile person than Kon. So like . . . there's a bit of a double-standard going there, it kind of feels like? Like, at least on a meta-level. And I'm sure most of it's editorial nonsense and the kind of narrative problems that lie inherent in like . . . what, thirty-plus years of comic history and about eight bajillion different writers and the like, obviously, but it just is REAL hard to justify that behavior in the actual narrative when Clark Kent is meant to be the moral paragon that the entire damn rest of the DC universe is meant to set its metaphorical watch by.

Either way, though, I'm usually trying to write Clark as either sympathetic or at least understandable in his logic, even when it's flawed, so I wouldn't really say it's "wrong" if you feel sympathy for him while reading my writing. Like, I'm not saying he's in the right in those specific fics, but I do still want to be empathetic to his point of view. It is again just REALLY hard for me to explain a lot of Clark's canon relationship with Kon in any way other than "benign neglect due to just deliberately assuming that all Kryptonians are always Perfectly Fine, Thanks due to his own personal issues about what 'Superman' represents", and that's the KIND option.

Long story short, I really just don't care what DC says, It is NOT on the brand-new teenager with zero life experience who Clark deliberately LET put an S-shield-shaped target on their back to single-handedly foster a relationship with the perfect superhero idol that most of the damn world looks up to. I genuinely cannot think of a single significant occasion where Clark ever does anything for Kon that involves CLARK having to put in any kind of recurring effort, but we're supposed to accept that KON has to earn scraps of Clark's attention and the right to be considered a part of his family over and over again--while Clark, again, doesn't have to do anything to earn Kon's attention or the right to be considered a part of HIS family? Ever? Even ONCE??

Relationships are two-way streets, DC! That's just how relationships are, DC!! Otherwise it's just parasocial bullshit or someone taking advantage of someone else, DC!!!!

Don't get me wrong, I really love Clark, I think he's a great character in a lot of fascinating ways and that he is VERY interesting and affecting when he's done well ("you can do anything you want, and all you want to do is help people" HELLO CRYING IN THE CLUB RN), but like . . . come on, DC, what the fuck and WHY?

#confusedguytoo #meta ecetera

91 notes · View notes

wrengrif · 10 months ago

Text

It's Thought Time again

So I've been rolling over this in various posts and reblogs, and I'm finally going to pin down my thoughts and write them here. Some might call this my 'Aziraphale Defense Post', but that's not accurate.

This is my William James take - meaning, everyone's reality is different due to perspective. What is true to me is not going to be true to you, 100% of the time. However, there is a facet of truth in everything we do believe, because we wholeheartedly believe it. That gives us a rainbow of truths from one opinion, each in their own radiant color.

So here's what I believe to be true. 6000 years ago, Heaven and Hell, on two completely different missions, sent the angel and the demon they found the most annoying to Earth. Not the weakest, not the most problematic (not yet anyways), but the ones they all collectively rolled their eyes at. Crowley was too flash. Aziraphale was too soft.

So God plopped Aziraphale in Eden, told him to protect the humans and not let them eat the apple tree that was sitting right there in front of them. Didn't tell him to put up a fence, or wave the flaming sword at them.

Satan booted Crowley upwards and told him to vaguely, 'start some trouble'. Vaguest of orders, no real direction in them. Crowley could have just thrown rocks at Adam and Eve and it would have counted.

We all know what happened from there. However, instead of Heaven and Hell going, 'Okay we're going to really pin down these orders now, sending more troops, let's get humanity really going' ... they basically left Aziraphale and Crowley alone in the office for 6000 years. Oh, the head offices occasionally pop up. Threaten, in their own unique ways. Mostly though, Crowley and Aziraphale were the only immortal beings on a planet filled with human mayflies.

Human mayflies that nine times out of ten would just set fire to themselves, or show greater compassion than either one of them had ever known.

Crowley and Aziraphale were all alone, except for each other. Even among humans, who they clearly understood more than their superiors -- you had to know they both stuck out. Yeah, think on that. Crowley couldn't have been the only one outcast, with his red hair and his yellow eyes. Aziraphale has the most white-blonde, curly hair in existence. Tag along with blue eyes and fair skin and come on. So at the beginning, they only ever really had each other for safe company. As they moved towards Europe, it got easier to fit in but even then you know people were still giving them the side-eye.

They were both transitory - following where-ever a mission went. Probably a home for maybe ten or so years, but then they'd have to move on again. We talk a lot about how Crowley didn't have a physical home until the creation of the bookshop.

That means neither did Aziraphale.

So what happened? They became home to one another. A touchstone in the centuries that passed. Aziraphale never rejected being approached by Crowley, despite being a demon, and Crowley never held Heaven's stupid missions again Aziraphale, so they kept coming together. Over and over again. Think of Rome. Aziraphale is so happy to see Crowley, and it's only been a few decades. Crowley's mood improves the longer the conversation goes on, letting down his defenses, relaxing enough to smirk.

The Arrangement, thought of by Crowley, agreed to by Aziraphale, despite the dangers they both knew they would face, because at least it meant they could see each other without having to make an excuse or just 'happen to be in the area'. Now they could meet up at theatres or in graveyards. They had to be careful - they always, always had to be careful - or the other one could be hurt.

It is the worst thing that can happen to either one of them, if the other one is hurt, or worse, killed. Remember Aziraphale's face in the graveyard, that look of sheer horror when he realizes Hell has taken Crowley.

Remember Crowley yelling as he runs into a burning bookshop.

The bookshop and the Bentley are theirs, but they can lose those and still go on, as long as they have each other. Maybe it is co-dependent, but honestly who else can they depend on, if not each other? That's why I believe Aziraphale begged Crowley to come with him to Heaven, not because he wanted Crowley to be an angel, but because Crowley would be safe - Aziraphale's Home would be Safe. That's why he says, 'Nothing lasts forever'. No Thing.

Crowley is not a Thing, to Aziraphale. Crowley is Aziraphale's Person. His safe place, and he's Crowley's. They both know it. It's why Aziraphale never wants to run away because he knows he's not fighting for a place called home, he's fighting for Crowley. It's why Crowley walks away and always comes back - not because he's weak but because he knows that being with Aziraphale is what matters. It's what makes life worth living.

Which is what makes the Final Fifteen so heartbreaking because they are both saying the same thing, but they're on different wavelengths. Yet, Yet ... as time has passed and I've been able to look at the Final Fifteen with some space, I see that it's not as hopeless as it seems.

Because Crowley came back. Because Aziraphale looks ready to do what he has to do. I don't think it'll be violence, because they've never solved their problems with violence and I don't think they'll start now. I just know that They're Not Talking is not going to last as long as we think, and that anger and betrayal is not going to be the first thing on their minds when they finally see one another again.

Probably going to be that kiss, though.

This why I could never say I can't forgive Aziraphale for his actions, because he did what he had to do to keep his home, his Crowley safe. I know Crowley knows that, too. How is that all going to shape up - how they're going to find themselves in balance again?

Well. I guess we'll have to wait, and see.

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens meta #my perspective is that love will save the day

62 notes · View notes

klanceogies · 6 months ago

Text

klance existing in a space war is soooo good cause they're the most selfless motherfuckers on this entire fucking universe ever. they would die for who they love in a heartbeat it's not even funny.

like imagine there is a life or death situation, one of them has to stay behind to buy the other time to escape and give them a chance of survival. they would both turn to each other and would tell the other that they're the one staying. they argue and it's desperate and messy and they've never been more terrified in their lives, but mostly for the other. in marriage they say until death do us part but they've been this devoted much much earlier. after fighting gor years in an ingergalactic war, they've accepted that they might die at any moment, during any mission, in any planet. but trying to accept the other dying is just soul crushing. because he's too good to die and if there is anyone who deserves to live is him. and they both have this train of thought until then. until they're face to face with the unevitable.

(more under cut this cause it was just a ramble and then i ended up kinda going insane????)

they're both determined to stay. when lance realizes that keith won't budge, and he is probably the most stubborn person in the universe, he says "fine." keith is relieved for a split second, but lance isn't done, "but i'm staying with you." and he has this look on his face. it's the same look he gets when they're entering on the battlefield for a serious mission. it's the same look he gets when tasked with shooting a tricky target. it's pure determination.

keith's gaze snaps back to lance's face, brows furrowed. "what? no! you're not- just one of us can be saved. voltron needs five people. you have to go, lance. you have to live."

""voltron needs five people"" lance scoffs. "this isn't a math problem, keith! you, out of everyone in this universe should know this. and if this is all about saving the universe or whatever then you are the one who should go! you're objectively the best pilot, the best soldier, the best leader to put an end to all of this. voltron needs you. the universe needs you."

"i'm not-"

"but i know you. i know you're going to dismiss everything i just said because you're stupidly humble when you're not trying one-up me. and i know that you're not changing your mind no matter what i say. so if you already decided to be so goddamn stupid and stubborn then i'm not leaving you behind either! i just can't leave you behind." then, quieter, "i don't think i could live with myself if i did."

keith shakes his head. he scoffs and blinks back tears, with a disbelieving, desperate smile on his face. he thinks he is losing his mind. "lance, this isn't logical. you-"

"since when do you even try being logical before doing something?!"

keith grits his teeth together. this isn't how this is supposed to end. how they're supposed to end. "since there was the chance of you surviving this to go back home alive and well and see your family and you're not taking it!"

lance inhales sharply. speechless, the first tear falls.

keith sighs, "i don't have anyone to go back to, lance. you do. you can go and move on and live and be happy."

"move on," lance repeats flatly. it's his turn to look at keith with confusion, as if he had grown a second head. "after leaving you behind," he asks, more like a statement.

"one day!" keith holds lance's shoulder, in a motion as to shake him awake. he needs lance to believe this. "one day so much time will have passed that i'm just gonna be a funny memory of some guy who was old annoying rival-teammate."

lance keeps looking at him. he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. his cheeks are painted with tears. keith seizes his opportunity.

"please," his voice cracks. "please lance, if you can't do it for yourself do it for your family."

keith is suddenly plunged into the frozen waters of guilt with the thought that he was the one to cause the pain that is painted on lance's face.

"you're an idiot to think i could ever move on from this."

*from you* goes unsaid. it is spoken through lance's warm lips on his.

keith doesn't close his eyes; it's over before he can even register it. the slight taste of blood and salty tears and the feel of bitten but soft lips. lance's hand cradles his face as his eyes scan over his face, as if to keep it in memory. keith is left stunned, speechless.

"goodbye, keith," lance mutters.

keith looks at him. really looks at him. he opens his mouth, with so much to say and nothing at all. he hopes his eyes show how much he means, how much he feels. his only reassurance is lance's last small smile. it's fond and bittersweet.

suddenly, laser shots can be heard in the distance, and lance's hand falls from his cheek. keith snaps out of his trance as lance walks away hurriedly. he's wiping his face with the back of one hand, readjusting the grip on his bayard with the other. keith still looks at the empty hallway long after lance has turned the corner.

once again, keith is alone, with the shots getting louder and louder with every tick. lance left, and keith is going to die, and keith didn't tell him he loves him. he doesn't know if saying it would change something. if he would stay. maybe out of pity. maybe out of fear that keith is only doing this because he is blinded by love or something stupid. maybe out of love too.

for the first time since they've gotten into this ridiculous situation, keith allows himself to cry. it's silent, and it isn't messy, however. there still is one last mission to complete. perhaps, he thinks, the most important mission of his life.

he squeezes his eyes together. then, he picks up his bayard and leaves the hiding spot. with a deep breath, he rises his shield and channels all the anger that built up inside of him. he hates the galra, even if he is one of them himself. he hates the galaxy garrisson officials and all the people who underestimated him. he hates voltron for choosing his friends and taking them away from their families. he hates this stupid war for taking everything from so many. he hates the stupid empire for making lance choose.

he starts walking to the opposite side of the corridor and into the darkness.

that's it i feel like i just passed out and when i woke up i had written this monstrosity even though i have never written like ever. this was supposed to be just a ramble so yeah it's messy but idc i just had to share my demons.

i also wrote this:

"and this is when lance is selfish. he is so goddamn selfish because he turns around." so yeah. lance goes back. and they survive this unlikely situation and get together and kiss yes because in my mind klance can never have a sad ending ever in the world so

#klance #erm idk what posessed me #this is saur dramatic like my bad #my kl brainrots

34 notes · View notes

cipher-fresh · 6 months ago

Text

Reviews for Skip Haverty: Companion Chronicles #2 (2025) boxset

These take place before Skip witnesses the destruction of Pacifico del Rio but after the Hybrid Dimension arc. I think this was a great place to put these stories (when the obvious unexplored location would have been right before The Cruel Shining Light of Heaven) but I think this is better because we get to really explore more of Skip’s feelings about her mixed heritage. It’s contrasted super well with the ethos of the Cybermen who have no value for anything unique and are entirely homogenous.

Disc #1: Planet of the Superstructure

This one is spooky! A bio-engineered mechanical virus infects every living thing on this planet and converts it into an ever-growing superstructure, that winds up developing its own bio-mechanical life that’s different enough to not get absorbed into the structure but similar enough to thrive in the structure. This really benefits from coming right after Hybrid Universe because Skip gets infected with the bio-mechanical virus and the Doctor has to find a way to stop it from growing her body into metal, and it ties into Skip’s insecurities about her body and ownership to her heritage. The TARDIS going missing makes sense for this one because the Superstructure growing and shifting is a part of the plot and it feels integrated naturally.

This one got a tie-in comic but I hate the way they draw faces. The backgrounds for it were amazing, and just what this story needed since the Superstructure is so intimidating. (You can read the comic here)

God, this was stellar. 9/10

Disc #2: Green Skies Forever

This one has a really devastating plot twist so listen to it first- The Doctor and Skip try to take a rest on a vacation planet, but become suspicious that the place isn’t what it seems. All the other vacationers seem like children pretending to be adults. Over the course of the story, it’s revealed that this planet doesn’t exist and is only being held rougher through the psychic energy of an alien child trying to relive the day before his death. The kid psychically manifested all the people so they only have the knowledge the kid knows. The Doctor and Skip help the kid process his death and pass on.

8/10, Paul McGann delivers this haunting monologue at the end. I’d rank it higher but Skip gets basically nothing to do which is really annoying. Added a point back for Skip’s screen time being her actually getting to take a break.

Disc #3: Moonlight Country

If you think about the plot of this one for more than 10 seconds, it starts to fall apart. But if you don’t do that, the town of self-exiled sentient werewolves is one of the most fun and unique locations in the 8th Doctor’s discography. The villain of this one is really fun and I think would be a great thing to adapt to live-action. (We also get a 13th Doctor cameo in this one! I actually gasped hearing Jodie Whittaker’s voice.)

I am really sad I can’t give this higher than a 6/10, because it is genuinely nonsensical, but it’s at least fun. I may honestly revise this to give another point for how fun it is but I’m holding off for now.

You can buy the box set here

#skip haverty #updates from cipher #unreality #8th Doctor

25 notes · View notes

slotmachines-fearofgod · 9 months ago

Text

sorry in advance, this IS angst. not proofread or edited heavily since it's just a WIP, but y'all have been patient with me so i figured it could be a little treat :3 let me know what you think in the comments!

—

The day that Marshal Commander Cody died was an entirely unremarkable one.

It had been a busy market square in the Outer Rim. Closer to Tatooine that anyone would’ve liked. A raider’s run, soldiers and slavers clashing to defend or steal the people there. It was a common occurrence, the people there later revealed to Obi-Wan.

Cody, in all his stubborn glory, put himself between the people of that planet and the raiders trying to take them. He got cornered, got shot, got left for dead. Rex didn’t know why he hadn’t called for help, hadn’t had the chance to ask anyone and hadn’t been able to stomach reading the report.

Obi-Wan delivered the news to him. Rex delivered it to the batch. Only then did Obi-Wan file the official paperwork.

Fives had been hovering for the past few days. So had a few others, but especially him. Rex had thrown himself head first into work, giving himself little time to rest or come back to himself.

Anakin and Obi-Wan approached him to offer Cody’s old position at Obi-Wan’s side. He was one of the most qualified and knew how Obi-Wan thought. He’d seen Cody’s day to day and knew what would be expected of him.

Rex had politely refused and excused himself to go throw up in the fresher.

Rex had never really had a batch. He did, but he was weird. Different from them. Difference was deadly on Kamino.

It had been Cody that found him, Cody that took him under his wing, Cody that taught him the importance of brotherhood and loyalty. He took an angry fucked up kid and made something worthy out of him and for that Rex would never be able to repay him.

In the quiet of his room, the rare hours that he allowed himself sleep, he stared at the ceiling with tired eyes, unable to find rest. He stared and thought. Thought about the man Cody was. Thought about how Rex would’ve done anything for him. Thought about how he’d never see him again.

Thought about how that was his big brother. Thought about how he used to think Cody was invincible.

During their very brief time as children, Cody was untouchable. He was smart as all hell, good at getting in and out of trouble quicker than you could blink, and egregiously annoying about it. He used to tease Rex about coming back with a blush on his cheeks and a scowling trainer, boasting about how he wouldn’t have gotten caught.

He’d only ever gotten caught for Rex’s sake. Once, when Rex had really fucked up, Cody took the fall. He left with the trainers, coming back hours later bruised and beaten from the extra training they forced on him. He’d met Rex with a wide smile and an arm around his shoulders, crowing about how Rex should see the other guy. Rex hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry.

Fives had been hovering. Even now, he sat in Rex’s office while Rex worked, uncharacteristically quiet. He was scanning through mission reports, actually doing his work for once.

It was sort of nice to have another body with him. To not have the crushing loneliness take him.

It had occurred to him a few days after Cody’s death that Rex was alone now. Not truly, never truly alone, not while other clones existed. But still lonely.

He’d always had his big brother with him, taking the fall for him, protecting him. He had memories of life before Cody, but they were fuzzy and far away, like remnants of a dream. The day Cody shoved himself into what he thought was an unoccupied storage closet to escape Fox’s wrath, only to bump into a small and sulky CT was the day Rex’s life changed for the better. It was easy with Cody. They knew each other. He always stood in front of Rex in the most annoying ways.

He thought he lost Cody once before. Before he’d grown used to death and the silence that accompanied it. Cody took a shot for him on Geonosis. Rex had never been so angry and he’d never felt so loved.

I’m your brother, Cody had said, I’ll always take the shot for you. Stop acting like that’s a surprise.

Rex had gone back and cried. It was before he had Torrent and the 501st. Back when it really was just him and Cody. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of Cody going without him. Hadn’t been able to breathe when he thought about his brother dying, leaving Rex alone to fend for himself.

It felt vulnerable in a way Rex hadn’t expected. Like all this time Cody had been a pillar of protection and without it Rex was left to the wolves. He couldn’t flip on his comm and shoot Cody a message asking for advice. He couldn’t wander to the 212th bunks during shore leave to catch up with him and complain about his Jedi. He’d never get to see if Cody would grow a pair and confess to Obi-Wan. He’d never get to spend the end of the war with his brother, endless days under some gentle far off sun.

They’d made plans when they were kids about what they’d do once they left. It was the only promise Rex allowed himself to make. He knew there were no absolutes in war, but so long as he had the list and he had Cody to check it off with, he was okay.

They’d gotten less than halfway through when Cody died.

Fives’ comm beeped and Rex watched his brow furrow. Rex thought about what he’d do if Fives died. He honestly didn’t know.

Fives looked up at him, took in his demeanor, and his face relaxed. Rex had gotten too transparent with everything going on.

“I’m heading out,” Rex said, the hoarseness in his voice surprising even him, “I’ll be back by dinner.”

“I’ll come with,” Fives said quickly, already getting to his feet, “Where are we going?”

“Meeting,” Rex said, closing out of his work, “It’s above your security level.” It wasn’t, it wasn’t even a meeting, but Fives would insist if he told him that.

“I’ll talk to the General then,” Fives said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine this once.”

“Fives,” Rex started, before hesitating and backtracking, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Fives’ face hardened and he crossed his arms, “Rex -”

“I’ll see you later,” Rex sighed, his armor feeling like it weighed two hundred pounds, “Try to wrap up those reports while I’m gone.”

Fives jaw clenched but he nodded. Rex appreciated that about him. He knew when to push and when to let things lie. Many people thought he was brash, charging in with no regard to his surroundings. Rex always felt the opposite. He liked to push, yes, and he liked to get his way, but he only pushed when it was needed. When he was seeing something Rex wasn’t.

He reminded Rex a little bit of Cody sometimes.

Rex often wondered if it had been Cody and Fives on Umbara instead of him. He wondered if Pong Krell would’ve been able to take them apart the way he did. Those two were strong in ways he wasn’t.

Rex left his office, fixing his helmet over his head as he went. They’d landed on Coruscant two days ago, four days after Cody’s death. Rex hadn’t left the bunkhouse for anything except food and a summons to the Jedi Temple.

He took a breath as he exited the complex, hating the weight of his kama as he moved.

Cody never had a kama. Everyone mocked and made fun of him for it except Fox. Rex always thought there was some unspoken agreement between those two, some burden their ranks afforded them that the rest were all kept from. Rex had never been jealous of their relationship until now.

He made it to the Coruscant Guard Complex almost unconsciously, too caught up in his own head to follow his feet until suddenly he was standing at the entrance. A trooper in red nodded at him from the front desk. Rex nodded back, taking a seat in the waiting area.

It wasn’t long before Fox came down, also in his full kit. He greeted Rex as warmly as he ever does, which is to say not very, and gestured for him to follow.

“Almost everyone else is here,” Fox said as they walked side by side through the winding hallways, “Just missing Bly.”

“So you mean Wolffe is here,” Rex attempted to joke. Fox’s nonanswer was all he needed to know that it fell flat.

Sometimes Rex thought about Fives and his batch. Watching it shrink piece by piece, losing and losing and losing until all you have is yourself. Between Cody and Ponds, he was beginning to understand it better than he wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” Rex said quietly, one of the overhead lights flickering as they passed.

Fox waved him off, “Gallows humor. It’s understandable.”

They walked in silence for another five minutes, the white lights painting everything in a stark light. Shadows were almost non-existent here, only lurking behind closed doors and corners the unnatural light couldn’t quite reach. It was too harsh.

Rex entered Fox’s office, taking a look around the space. It hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d been here. There was still an old, cheap looking couch in one corner, a massive desk piled high with flimsiwork and datapads, windows that overlooked the Senate Complex, and if he had to wager a guess at least three blasters hidden in the room.

Wolffe was currently sitting on the couch, already nursing a glass of whatever Fox managed to get his hands on this time. Pros of dealing with criminals everyday, Rex supposed. Still, Wolffe looked about as bad as Rex felt.

He hadn’t been invited to this after Ponds’ death, instead meeting up with the batch at 79s after they had their initial wake. He wasn’t sure how this was supposed to go.

“Rex’ika,” Wolffe greeted, standing to pour Rex a drink, “Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks,” Rex said gruffly, “for inviting me.”

Wolffe shrugged, his back to Rex, “You were his vod’ika. Pretty sure he’d come back from the dead to kill us if we didn’t invite you.”

Rex gave the best laugh he could.

Fox moved past him, pulling off his helmet. Rex followed suit, placing his on a small table next to the couch as he accepted the drink from Wolffe. Fox looked like hell, as per usual. He had a bruise forming under his right eye, his broken nose that never quite healed right standing out more than usual next to it. He had a new scar on his jaw, a small thin line that Rex probably wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking.

“Prison riot,” Fox grumbled when he saw Rex looking, “Got a little out of control.” Rex nodded, accepting the answer without a fight. If Fox wanted to tell them more, he’d tell them more.

Rex moved to the couch, sitting on the opposite end of Wolffe. The elder got a temper, especially in cases like this, and Rex didn’t want to be next to him when it inevitably showed itself.

“How’s the 501st?” Fox asked, more of a polite formality than anything else. It struck Rex how weird this situation was. Normally Cody was there, a binding force that meshed two parts of his life seamlessly. It was never awkward or centered around small talk when he was there but now - now it was like they had nothing but small talk.

“Good,” Rex said simply, sipping his drink and doing his best not to make a face, “We’ve got a few more being sent off for ARC training soon and I’m working on proposing a few initiatives to the admirals about restrictions regarding eating habits.”

“Restrictions?” Wolffe asked, a puzzled look on his face, “What for?”

Rex shrugged, relaxing into the cushions, “Some of the heavy gunners and ARC troopers are complaining that their meal plans aren’t being switched to a higher protein intake despite their intensive training. I’m working with the Commander to get that fixed.”

He’d worked with Cody on it too.

Fox made a considering noise before saying, “The ration restrictions in general are a pain in the ass already.”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow at them, “General Koon got rid of those the second month of the war. What’s taking your people so long?”

“Palpatine.”

“Anakin.”

Fox and Rex made eye contact, a smile pulling at the corners of Fox’s lips. It seemed Palpatine’s influence had rubbed off after all.

“The chancellor I understand,” Wolffe continued, “But General Skywalker?”

Rex shrugged again, “He’s more concerned with action, less so politics. Doesn’t like to get involved on the administrative level aside from the fight.”

Wolffe scoffed, “Sounds like a shit general.”

Rex smiled wryly, “He does alright. General Kenobi’s been helping.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes, “The 212th can’t be expected to step in everytime Skywalker throws a hissy fit over paperwork.”

“They don’t,” Rex said, a somewhat bitter smile on his face, “I do.”

Wolffe grunted but let the subject be for the time being.

Fox turned to face Rex, “Skywalker visits Palpatine often.”

Rex nodded.

“What’s that relationship like?” Fox asked, looking at Rex with a strange light in his eyes.

Rex took another sip before answering, “I’m not sure. I get the feeling it’s complicated between him, Kenobi, and Palpatine. Everytime Kenobi and Palpatine interact I feel like they’re about to start brawling.”

“But Skywalker,” Fox pushed, “What’s his thoughts on it?”

“I guess he’s fine with it,” Rex said, “I mean, he wouldn’t be going to see him so often if it wasn’t.”

“And you?” Fox asked, “How does he treat you?”

Rex narrowed his eyes as he looked at Fox, “Why?”

Wolffe spoke up, “He’s a paranoid bastard, just answer him.”

Rex glared at Wolffe before turning back to Fox, “He’s fine. It’s fine. We get along well and the Commander and I are on good terms.”

Fox’s shoulders, which Rex had not realized were previously tensed, relaxed, “Good. Glad to hear it.”

Fox’s comm chimed. He looked down to read over the message before excusing himself to go retrieve Bly from the lobby. Rex watching him go, an alarm bell going off in the back of his head.

“Is he okay?” Rex asked Wolffe once the door closed.

Wolffe stared after Fox, an unsettling look on his face. It was times like this that Rex was reminded of how close Wolffe and Fox were. If Rex noticed something was off, Wolffe certainly had as well.

“He’s fine,” Wolffe said, something like steel in his tone, “As fine as the rest of us.”

Rex hid his wince. He supposed that was fair enough. Like he said, Cody and Fox had always understood each other on a different level.

“You?” Wolffe asked after a moment of silence. Rex looked at him, confusion written clearly across his face. Wolffe sighed, “How are you doing?”

“Oh,” Rex looked back down at his drink. He hadn’t really expected them to ask. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” Wolffe drawled, knocking back the rest of his drink. He stood and snagged the bottle from Fox’s desk, bringing it over to the couch to refill. “I won’t even pretend to believe that.”

Rex frowned as he nursed his drink, “There’s not much for me to say that you’re not already thinking.”

Wolffe scrubbed a hand over his face, “Look, kid, I’m trying to help you out here. Offer you a willow branch or whatever the saying is. You can’t be honest with the Jedi and you can’t be honest with your men so be honest with us.”

Rex bit the inside of his cheek, weighing Wolffe’s offer. He supposed that was the point of this meeting, to talk and memorialize and be honest. He rubbed his eye before saying, “He’s my big brother. My only brother, for a while there. What do you think?”

Wolffe leaned back, satisfied with his answer, “We’re your brothers too.”

“Yeah,” Rex agreed, “But you know it was different.”

“I know.”

Rex stared at the little scratches in his glass and wondered how many times Fox had pulled these out for similar situations. He wasn’t a big drinker, as far as Rex knew. He preferred to keep his head in order to better deal with senators and politicians. But these glasses told a different story.

“I used to wonder what he saw in you,” Rex looked up at Wolffe, only to find the other’s gaze fixed on the window across from them, “What did you have that our batch couldn’t give him? Then I realized it wasn’t about giving. It never was with Cody.”

“I wondered that too,” Rex admitted softly, following Wolffe’s line of sight to the Jedi Temple, “I still think he just felt bad for me.”

Wolffe laughed sharply, “Probably. At least, initially. But he liked you enough to keep it going.”

Rex felt his mouth lift slightly into a smile, “I’m better for it.”

Wolffe hummed in agreement and they fell into a comfortable silence. It was easier now that he had other people that knew Cody. That weren’t just eyeing him like they were waiting for him to snap. He wasn’t going to snap, largely because he already had, and the constant handling had been getting on his nerves more than he realized.

He’d gone down the night he got the news and whaled on a punching bag. He made it back to his quarters with bloody knuckles before collapsing and sobbing on the floor, crying for Cody like a child. He’d been ashamed of it the next morning, the physical evidence of a break that he shouldn’t have had blatant under the fluorescent light. He’d applied bacta from the stash in his room and slid on his gloves, hiding the winces that came everytime he flexed his fingers and raw skin rubbed up against the material.

He looked at Wolffe from the corner of his eye, wondering what his reaction had been after they hung up the call. Bly Fox and Wolffe had answered with varying degrees of annoyance before seeing the look on Rex’s face. He was pretty sure Fox knew before he said anything, but Bly and Wolffe had both been caught off guard.

Fox listened, offered his condolences, and hung up. None of them held it against him. Sometimes that was just the way Fox was.

Bly and Wolffe stayed on the call, wanting to hear the how, when, and why. Bly shut down pretty quickly, compartmentalizing as fast as he could. Rex couldn’t blame him, that was his initial reaction as well. He’d told Obi-Wan thank you and assured Anakin he’d be fine before abruptly ending the call on them.

Wolffe looked angry. He looked angry and scared and Rex knew from dealing with others that was not a good combination. He’d heard a knock on the door just before Wolffe hung up, suspecting it to be his general. Rex didn’t bother following up on that, figured either it was or it wasn’t and no matter which it was it wasn’t his business.

“I keep thinking I see him,” Wolffe admitted to the silence of the room, “Now that the 212th has landed it’s like he’s everywhere.”

Rex winced, remembering his own reaction. The flashes of orange and yellow filling the bunkhouse, each one a reminder, a possibility, a failure.

“It’s hard to move on like this,” Rex agreed, “When we all look like him. Talk like him.”

Wolffe snorted, “No one talks like him, not since Kenobi got his hands on him. Cody learned a bunch of big words and used it to sound like the smartest guy in the room.”

Rex dipped his head to hide his smile, “He’s always been competitive.”

“You’re telling me,” Wolffe grumbled into his drink, “You didn’t meet him before he developed a conscience.”

The door slid open, revealing Fox and Bly on the other side. Rex gave Bly a weak smile, he returned it with about the same level of enthusiasm. Rex let the greetings fade into the background, choosing instead to top off his drink as Bly settled in next to him. Rex poured another drink for Bly and handed it off, just trying to keep himself busy.

“What did you two talk about while I was gone?” The question drew Rex back into the conversation. He looked up at Fox, who’d taken off his helmet again, before looking at Wolffe.

“What do you think?” Wolffe drawled, unbuckling his vambraces now that everyone was there.

Fox sighed and claimed a spot on the floor, leaning against his desk for support, “Just wondering. Maybe you finally met someone desperate enough to give you a shot, I don’t know.”

“Fuck you,” Wolffe sneered, “I’m a real treasure I’ll have you know.”

Fox rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his drink, apparently not feeling like putting up much of a fight. Rex was glad for it.

The room fell uncomfortably silent, all of them looking at each other and thinking the same thing.

It was too cold in here.

They were pessimists. All except Bly, but you wouldn’t have guessed that based on outward appearance. Every single one of them lived day to day, putting one foot in front of the other, and expecting every ounce of blood that swam around their ankles.

Cody hadn’t disbelieved that, but he’d always been different. He wasn’t - Rex wouldn’t have described him as an optimist. But he knew how to be happy. He knew how to let himself go a little bit, balance the soldier and the person with effortless grace. The rest of them had never really mastered that without having help. Usually the help was Cody.

He was just good with people. Good at being a person. Good at being something other than what he was engineered to be. Cody was the closest to ‘human’ most of them would ever get.

Now, sitting in this cold office holding a glass of moonshine and staring at men that he’s suddenly not sure he’s ever really known, Rex felt like Cody was further away than ever.

Bly cleared his throat, raising his glass, “To Kote. May he march on under the light of the Manda, guided forever by his wit and warrior’s heart.”

They drank, the swill burning more than Rex remembered from the past few sips. The silence returned, heavy and oppressive. Rex’s chest felt heavy, like a weight had been placed upon him since Obi-Wan first called him and now it threatened to suffocate him.

“How’d you find out?” It took Rex a moment to realize Bly was addressing him. He looked up, reading an innocent curiosity on Bly’s face. “I assume Skywalker told you?”

Rex shook his head, “Kenobi.”

Bly sucked in a breath and nudged his shoulder in sympathy, “How soon after?”

Rex shrugged, his gaze going to the opposite wall, “About three hours.”

“How’d he break it to you?” Wolffe asked, stretching an arm out over the back of the couch.

Rex gripped his glass a little tighter, looking back down at it, “As best as he could. He asked me to pass the news along to you three before he filed the report.”

“Thank you,” Bly said, “I know it was a tough call.”

Rex ducked his head, not trusting the way his throat had begun to close up. The last thing he wanted to do here was cry.

“Alright,” Fox drawled, “Enough of the downer stuff. If he’s going to die on us the least we can do is rip him to shreds at his own wake.”

Rex huffed a laugh while Wolffe sent a sharp grin Fox’s way. Bly rolled his eyes but a small smile played at his lips. It was unconventional, and not the way Cody would’ve broached the subject, but it worked.

“Anyone got any pact stories?” Wolffe asked with a sly smile.

Pact stories were unique to this batch as far as Rex could tell. Instances or happenings from their training or later careers that were sworn to be kept between two members until one of them died. Cody and Rex had a few of their own, a few secrets and adventures that they both swore up and down they would never voice unless the other was dead and gone. It was funny, Rex had never thought he’d be the one telling them.

“He had a crush on Shaak-Ti,” Bly said proudly, cutting off Fox who’d opened his mouth to speak. “Remember when she came to see the commanders off? He gave her his comm code.”

Rex bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He had remembered Cody pulling the Jedi aside to speak with her, but it looked like a serious conversation so he hadn’t asked.

“We only knew Shaak-Ti for a month before being shipped out!” Wolffe said incredulously, “He’s an idiot.”

Bly smiled toothily, leaning back now that his bit was done. Fox sat up with a sparkle in his eye, his expression spelling nothing but trouble.

“Do you guys remember the weapons ring on Kamino? The one the Cuy’val Dar set up that the Kaminoans pretend didn’t exist?”

Rex did indeed remember it. A lot of the Cuy’val Dar were bounty hunters at one point or at least followed Mandalorian traditions. They complained about Kamino’s mass manufactured weapons, calling them cheap and useless. Rex wasn’t sure where it started, but one day he remembered seeing trainers walking around with shiny new blasters, bo staffs, and vibroblades.

“Well,” Fox grinned into his cup, “Cody found where they kept the weapons. He didn’t tell me until about a week after, during the sleep deprivation training.”

Rex remembered how much Cody hated that training. He was incredibly physically and mentally strong, but the man had a thing about sleep. He hated missing out on it, going so far as to nap in active warzones when he could if he’d missed his baseline minimum hours the night before.

“We sabotaged them,” Fox’s face morphed into one of malicious glee, one they were all intimately familiar with but hadn’t seen much recently, “Did just enough damage that nothing worked but they couldn’t prove anything without going to the Kaminoans for help. And the Kaminoans only turned a blind eye because no one talked about it. They had to buy the whole shipment over again.”

Wolffe whistled, mirth in his eyes as well. It was expensive getting things shipped out to Kamino, even more so when you’re paying for discretion. It was a good move on Fox and Cody’s part. Rex would’ve given anything to see the look in the Cuy’val Dar’s eyes when they saw what happened.

Rex finished his drink and reached for the bottle as Wolffe took his turn to speak, “One time he kidnapped a padawan.”

Bly started coughing, his face turning red as he pounded his chest while Rex and Fox stared at Wolffe.

“He did what?”

Wolffe grinned, smug as you please, now that he had everyone’s attention, “We were at 79s together, Fox had a meeting and everyone else was on a campaign or mission, and we ended up pretty much blacking out. Cut to the next morning, I’m laying in my bunk with the worst headache known to man and the first thing I see is my general standing over me very firmly asking where the padawan is. I had no clue what they were talking about, so I pointed them to Cody.”

Wolffe paused to take a swig while Rex took a second to muse over that mental image. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Skywalker woke him up by looming over his bed frame after a night out. Probably yell for Ahsoka.

“Well turns out they can’t find Cody,” Wolffe continued, the rest all leaning in, “And one of my boys told them that we’d been together. So we went to the Temple and pulled up security footage from the night before and there’s Cody, cooing over this little red head human who was about a third of his size. The poor kid was crying and it looked like Cody was trying to help but it wasn’t really working. Anyway, we followed the cameras and realized the padawan had led Cody out. Poor bastard was too drunk to know what was going on.”

Rex snorted, imagining a wobbly Cody being led by a little kid with a snotty nose and big eyes. It was the kind of routine that Rex can absolutely imagine working on his brother.

“I went back to the bunks to wait and eventually Cody comes back a few hours later looking like hell. I asked him what happened and he just went,” Wolffe pulled himself upright to a proper soldier’s posture and puffed out his chest a little more than necessary, “That’s classified. You’ll have to ask Commander Dume for the full report. So that’s what I did. Turns out the kid led him to a late night food court and he spent over one hundred credits on him.”

Bly and Fox cackled while Rex laughed and shook his head. Honestly, Rex was a little impressed by the kid. He had guts, that’s for sure.

“Anyway, Kenobi paid him back for everything but I swear Cody hid from that kid everytime he saw him afterward.”

“Isn’t that General Billaba’s padawan?” Bly asked, still laughing a little. Wolffe nodded in confirmation and Bly’s laughter picked up again as he pulled up his comm. “I have got to tell Grey about this.”

Rex chewed on the inside of his lip, wanting to tell his story but also unsure. He wanted to keep at least a part of Cody for himself.

But the other three were looking at him and Rex was reminded that for as much as he was grieving, so were they. Cody might’ve been special to him, but his brother had a lot of people on his side. They’d shared willingly, it would be selfish of him not to.

“He tried to distract a Seppie senator by flirting with him,” Rex said quickly, automatically uncomfortable with the way everyone’s head turned his way. “We were on a diplomatic mission and the Jedi were getting up to something or other.” It had been on Mandalore, actually. He was pretty sure Obi-Wan and Satine had been fooling around and it was Cody’s way of getting petty revenge during a very important political ceasefire.

“Skywalker asked us to keep the guards busy so I made up a story about needing help about something or other, but we ran into a senator on the way over. So Cody, in his full kit, decides the best way to distract him from asking too many questions was to flirt with him.” Rex smiled a little bit, remembering how horribly embarrassed he’d been in that moment watching everything happen. “As you can imagine, it didn’t go well.”

Wolffe’s laugh was practically a bark as he said, “What you mean the officer of the GAR flirting with a Separatist senator didn’t go over smoothly?”

Rex shook his head, “Well, the issue was that he started flirting back.”

Fox seemed to catch on, his jaw dropping slightly and a shocked look flitting across his face, “Please tell me he didn’t actually…”

Rex bit his lip but gave a tiny nod. A chorus of yells echoed from the other three before Rex intervened, “It didn’t get far! Cody made up an excuse and left and swore me to secrecy and that was that.”

Fox and Wolffe looked at each other, surprise still written on their faces. Bly finished his drink and grabbed another while Rex grinned.

“That’s…” Bly sighed into his cup, looking disappointed, “Actually yeah that sounds like him.”

Rex laughed, his head starting to feel a little fuzzy. It was a good buzz, the atmosphere having lightened significantly now that they were more focused on happier things. He settled into the couch, cradling his glass close to him. Maybe Cody wasn’t here, and maybe he was. Maybe he could keep him alive and with him, just for one more night.

—

Rex did not make it back in time for dinner. He’d answered Fives’ call drunk off his ass and assured him he was getting a walk back to the GAR complex and then stayed for about five more hours, drinking and talking and laughing for the first time in days.

Eventually, he had to go. The 501st was taking off the day after next and Rex would be needed to oversee the usual pre-takeoff duties. That and Fives had gotten Kix on his case as well and he really didn’t want them to physically drag him away. That would put a damper on the night.

Rex sighed as he left the Guard compound, his escort for the night graciously allowing him to lean against him. He stood at the doors, feeling the rare Coruscanti wind on his face and the cool night air hit him. It helped sober him a little, get rid of some of his haze.

“Ready to go sir?” His escort, a kid named Rune, asked.

He nodded, moving to put on his helmet before deciding against it. On the off chance he had to throw up before he could reach a fresher he really didn’t want to have to clean it out of his helmet.

They walked in silence for a bit, passing through the large stone structures that marked the entrance to this place. Rex didn’t get how Fox could stand being here. Everything was so enclosed, so ominous, so statuesque. It was too perfect, like someone was trying too hard to cover up something ugly.

Rex’s eyes drifted to the Geonosis memorial, as they always did. The names and numbers of every clone and Jedi that died during the battle were engraved on that stone, a mass etching that spoke of death, sacrifice, and war.

He had a batcher that died during the fight. He’d been surprised to be so upset over it, especially considering the distance that he himself created between them. But it had been there nonetheless, a little ball of grief that sat just behind his ribs. He wondered if he could find his number on the stone. He hadn’t lived long enough to earn a name.

Rex slowed in front of the memorial, searching for…something. He wasn’t sure what.

“Captain?”

Rex turned his head to the side at the quiet call. It sounded small and shaky.

It didn’t sound like it belonged to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“General,” Rex said, doing his best not to slur. He remembered a second too late that he was supposed to salute the man, but Kenobi waved away the motion before Rex could complete it. He looked awful. There were bags under his eyes, his normally perfectly styled hair was greasy and unkempt, and he smelled like he’d spent a week in a brewery in the Outer Rim.

“Rex,” Kenobi said. Rex waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, just stared at Rex with sad, sad eyes and an expression of despair.

“It’s me,” Rex confirmed, walking closer to the other man, “I was seeing a friend.”

Kenobi nodded, his eyes going back to the wall in front of them. It was odd. Rex didn’t think anyone but clones ever bothered to look at this.

“Are you alright sir?” Rex asked, turning to face the wall as well.

“Please don’t call me that,” Kenobi whispered, his face scrunching up like he’d gotten a taste of something sour, “I don’t - I’m not that right now.”

Rex furrowed his brow, not sure what he was referring to. Oh well. He’d figure it out later. He was too tired and too drunk for that right now.

“But are you?” Rex pressed, the giddiness from his evening beginning to vanish.

Kenobi laughed, a wet, hopeless sound that grated on Rex’s ears, “Are you?”

Rex shrugged, “I don’t know.” It was the truth. He didn’t know how he felt. His mood had been switching too quickly for even him to keep up.

Kenobi made another painful noise but didn’t answer. Rex shifted, looking back at Rune who was staying a respectful distance away. He didn’t want to waste too much of his time.

“It wasn’t your fault,” the words were falling out of Rex’s mouth before he could stop them. He knew Kenobi probably blamed himself, knew Wolffe and Fox and Bly all did too. But they didn’t see what Rex saw. Kenobi would’ve done anything for Cody, including jumping in front of that blaster for him. He would’ve done it, if he were able.

Kenobi didn’t respond but his eyes shone in the ever-present light of the planet. Rex wasn’t used to such a blatant display of vulnerability from the other man. Kenobi was always snappy, witty, ducking and dodging through conversations as artfully as he did battles.

Kenobi sucked in a ragged breath before saying, “We made plans. For after the war.”

Rex tried not to feel jealous about that. Tried not to think about the plans he and Cody had made so long ago, worlds away from this one, back when they had chubby cheeks and missing teeth, whispering under the blankets after curfew.

“What plans?” Rex croaked. Kenobi needed an outlet, as Rex had earlier. He could do that for him. For Cody’s sake.

Kenobi hummed, gathering his thoughts. Rex turned back to Rune and jerked his head back toward the complex. The younger hesitated, but Rex gave him a reassuring look and purposefully pointed at Kenobi. Rune nodded after a second and turned, pulling up his comm, likely to contact Fox and let him know what happened.

“I wanted to take him to Kashyyyk,” Kenobi whispered, pulling Rex’s focus back, “He always loved the forests the most.”

Rex thought about that for a moment. Cody and Kenobi, away from the Jedi and the GAR, pulling each other headfirst into a new adventure every day, waking up to the sounds of birdsong and sun on their faces.

It sounded like the kind of life Cody would’ve liked.

Rex told him so and Kenobi smiled weakly, “I would’ve followed wherever he wanted to go.”

Rex’s eyes burned abruptly, the emotion he’d been trying to avoid so fiercely surfacing now. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision and realizing too late Kenobi was still speaking.

“-you all the time,” Kenobi’s eyes scanned the stone, taking in the many many casualties they’d suffered, “He loved you more than anything.”

It felt like all the air had been punched out of Rex’s chest. He didn’t want to hear that, not from the man that Cody had spent long hours pining over and making plans for every chance he got. He didn’t want to hear that from the man that was supposed to be Cody’s everything.

“Did he ever tell you?” Rex asked weakly, knowing the answer to his question. Still, he looked at Kenobi, just in case.

“No,” Kenobi said softly, a tear slipping down his face, “But I knew. We both knew.”

And that - that felt like getting hit by a freighter. Cody had known all this time. He’d known and still he’d held himself back, refused to allow himself even one small pleasure while lives were at risk.

Rex wished his brother was a selfish man. He wished with all his might that Cody had been a little more cowardly, a little more covetous, a little less heroic. He wished Cody would’ve taken something for himself for once.

Rex ignored the hot tears beginning to spill down his face, looking stubbornly at the memorial in front of him, “He’s an idiot then.”

Kenobi huffed, “It would’ve been futile. It wouldn’t have changed anything. He’d still be dead.”

Rex looked at the Jedi, for the first time wondering how they grieved. The one time he’d seen Anakin do it was probably the most terrifying few days of his life. Things had been bad aboard the venator. He’d been angry and twitchy, yelling and snapping like a feral dog. Rex had stepped in between him and Ahsoka at one point, telling him to back off before he did some real damage. The look in his eyes that followed haunted Rex for weeks after. It was the first time he’d ever been truly afraid of his general.

Rex looked at the man in front of him and wondered if he loved anyone enough to be reduced to nothing like that. Wondered if the effect he had on Anakin went both ways.

“He was a good man,” Kenobi said quietly, tears flowing down his face as well, “A very good man.”

Rex clenched his jaw. He didn’t want Cody to be a good man. He wanted Cody to be here. He wanted, so stupidly and so desperately, for Cody to be here to tease him for crying over him. He wanted Cody to be here to banish the crushing loneliness that was coming back over the course of this conversation. He wanted Cody to be here because Cody knew him, and Rex wasn’t sure anyone else ever would.

He was a captain to his men, a soldier to his superiors, a brother-in-arms to Torrent, and a little brother to none.

“He was my brother,” was all Rex could say in response.

“I owe you an apology,” Kenobi said after a moment, “I believe I asked you to step into his shoes far too quickly.”

Rex tried his best to keep his shrug nonchalant, less like the flinch it truly was, “It’s alright.”

Kenobi shook his head, finally turning to look at Rex, “We both know why I really asked.”

Rex grimaced. He’d had a feeling, but no confirmation. Rex was the closest thing to Cody. The next best person. They had similar attitudes and stances. They had the same sense of humor and the same sense of severity when shit hit the fan.

He and Cody had the same sense of humanity, despite their upbringing. He would’ve been Cody’s replacement, not a commander in his own right. It was, after all, half the reason Rex refused.

“I know,” Rex said softly, drumming his fingers on his helmet. His thoughts were slow and syrupy, filtering too much and not enough. “Maybe in a few months. If the position isn’t filled.”

Kenobi shook his head again, “I don’t want to hold you to that. You’re happy with the 501st. Cody always seemed to think so.”

Rex’s lower lip trembled. He was. He really, truly was happy with them. Fives, Jesse, Kix, the whole bunch. He was a brother and a captain in one, there to lead them down the right path and it was good. It was fun. It was more than he ever thought he’d get out of this shitty life.

It didn’t mean he didn’t miss Cody with his whole being.

Before Anakin split off to form the 501st, when Rex was in the 212th and working under Cody, it had been so easy. Their dynamic barely changed as Cody remained in the lead and Rex remained staunch in his resolve to follow him wherever he went. They’d worked well together and at the end of the day they could still share meals, swap stories, and be brothers. They were still Rex and Cody.

“I am,” Rex said in lieu of all that, “An - Skywalker is a good leader.”

Kenobi smiled, but something was off. Painful looking. “I’m glad.”

They sat in silence together for a few more minutes, both discreetly wiping their faces. A few guards passed them by but no one came up to interrupt them. No one dared pull a Jedi away, especially not at this time of night.

“I should let you go,” Kenobi said. It was almost like watching an illusory trick in real life, the way he slowly collected himself until he looked more like General Kenobi, and less like Obi-Wan.

Rex nodded slowly, still drunk despite the sobering conversation, “Fives is worried. I’ve been gone a while.”

Kenobi looked at over at Rex and then behind him into the guard compound, some semblance of understanding on his face, “I’m glad you four got to mourn.”

Rex’s face twitched. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Obi-Wan knowing that’s what he was doing and where he was coming from. It made sense that he knew, given Ponds’ death and Cody’s own occasional disappearances in there to go see Fox, but still. It felt odd. Like an intrusion.

Rex didn’t say any of that, instead giving Kenobi a short nod and doing his best not to wobble too much as he walked away. He brought up his comm as he glanced back, seeing the Jedi still watching him go as the wall behind him loomed ominously. It felt symbolic, important in a way Rex didn’t yet understand. The vision of Kenobi, defeated and beat down, in front of a wall of dead clone names…maybe if he was more sober he could’ve added something to that. Bly and Ponds would’ve known.

“Fives?” Rex croaked into his comm, his voice worn from various conversations and tears, “You available for a pick-up?”

Rex heard Fives sigh into the comm, “Always Rex. How bad are you?”

Rex shrugged, forgetting that Fives couldn’t see. After an awkward moment of silence, Fives grumbled something about drunk brothers and Rex could hear him going for his boots, “Where exactly am I finding you?”

“Guard complex.”

“Jesus Rex.”

“Not like that,” Rex muttered, “Was just visiting.”

“Oh,” there was a small pause on the other end, “Oh. Fox.”

“And Wolffe and Bly,” Rex admitted, looking around for a place to sit. He really wanted to sit. “It was good.”

There was another small pause before Fives answered, sounding a little strange, “I’m glad. Support is important.”

“Yeah,” Rex hummed, “Maybe. Wasn’t about that.”

“No?”

Some part of Rex registered Fives was just keeping him talking. Another part of Rex didn’t actually care.

“No,” he said quietly, “Just remembering.”

Fives made a noise like he understood. Rex turned around to see Kenobi gone from the memorial. Briefly, something in his chest pinched and pulled tight. He hadn’t taken into account that Kenobi was also one of the last threads to Cody he had left.

“Rex? You okay?”

“Hm?” Rex’s attention was half-focused on Fives, half-scanning for Kenobi, “Yeah. Of course.” And then, because for some reason he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “Ran into Kenobi.”

He heard the soft whoosh of the doors to the GAR barracks, knowing Fives was probably on his way, “Yeah? What’d he say?”

Rex shrugged, new tears welling up in his eyes. He tried to choke them down as he spoke, “What I expected. He loved Cody, Cody was a good man, I’ve got a job offer if I want it.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other line before a little half-scared, “What?” made it out of Fives.

Rex scrubbed his eyes. He hadn’t told anyone about it the first time around. “Cody’s position. If I wanted it.”

“Oh,” Fives sounded small all of a sudden. Unsteady. “Do you?”

Rex hummed, “I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a little bit, the various sounds of the street filtering through both sides of the comm. Rex found a seat on a bench not too far away, eyeing civilians passing by in case they tried anything stupid.

“I want you to stay here,” Fives finally said. “I know you and Cody -”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rex said, cutting Fives off before he could get further, “It was just an offer. We’re both drunk and…drunk. I’m not taking it.” Yet.

He heard a breath of relief from the other side and guilt twinged at him, “Good. I’m glad. We need you here, Rex.”

Rex hummed, looking up and for once wishing he was surrounded by stars. It was easy to get sick of it in deep space. It gave him a headache sometimes, staring out into an empty void that he knew would kill them all in an instant. But here on Coruscant you couldn’t see the sky, not after generations of light pollution. It made him wish to be away, to be anywhere but here.

“I don’t have a big brother anymore,” Rex said into the comm. It was more of a passing comment, something he’d been chewing on since Cody’s death.

“I know,” Fives sounded horribly sad in his response. Rex blinked at the comm, almost wanting to see Fives’ face. He was the oldest of his batch. He’d seen his little brothers die one by one. Rex wondered what it felt like to be on that side of things.

“I’m not anyone’s vod’ika,” Rex murmured.

“I know,” Fives repeated, quieter this time but still weighty.

Rex wasn’t sure what else to say. His big brother was gone. Nothing could change that.

“I’ll be there soon ori’vod,” Fives said kindly with only a mild note of concern in his voice, “Then we can go home.”

Rex nodded numbly. Home would be good. He was drunk and tired and a bed sounded really nice right about now.

“Rex?” Fives called his attention away from thoughts of sleep, “You know…you know we’re here for you right? We get it. We’ve all had someone die on us. You don’t have to do the command staff thing of hiding it away for our sake.”

Rex pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know Fives.” The words were automatic, completely hollowed out and said just for the purpose of being said. Both men knew it.

“Alright,” Fives relented anyway, “Just - don’t go anywhere without us.”

Rex nodded blearily, once again forgetting Fives couldn’t see him, “Aye aye Captain.”

Fives huffed in a poor imitation of a laugh, “Alright asshole. I’ll be there in five.”

The comm clicked off in Rex’s hand. Rex looked at it, considering carefully.

He entered Cody’s comm channel, surprised to see it come up unanswered. He’d have thought they would reassign it by now.

Leave a message here

The glowing blue words blinked up at him. Rex stared, unsure what to say. He began typing a few times only to erase his message, thoughts of officers or god forbid Kaminoans finding the message playing like a warning in his head.

The message clicked off when Rex took too long. He scrambled to reenter the code, though this time a voice played.

This is Marshal Commander Cody speaking. Leave me a message or send me a comm and I will respond as my schedule allows.

Rex wanted to laugh. Of course Cody would program a voice message into his comm. Of course it would have a very pointed fuck you to everyone who thought they could walk all over him.

He wanted to laugh but the noise that made it out of his chest was anything but happy. He gripped his pulse point over his wrist, shoving the comm back into his belt, and tried to gulp down breaths of air.

He missed him. Gods above he missed him. He didn’t think he’d ever stop missing him. He knew the ache dulled, knew it from experience and from watching others around him, but here and now he was alone. Alone and sobbing on a bench in Coruscant, the looming specter of death behind him. A memorial, a reminder of everything Rex had lost, here to tower over him even now.

“Rex?”

Fives.

“Rex,” Fives sighed, putting a little more step into his walk as he made it to Rex, “Let's get you home, yeah? I think it’s time you called it a night.”

Rex nodded again, letting Fives sling his arm over his shoulder and moving forward obediently.

“You know I love you right?” Rex asked, not looking at Fives.

“‘Course I do,” Fives responded, keeping his eyes forward as well, “Why?”

“Just need to tell you,” Rex sighed, his eyes sliding half shut, “Just in case.”

Fives’ grip on him tightened. Rex tried not to think about how soon this might be taken from him too.

#commander cody #the clone wars #captain rex #cc 2224 #ct 7567 #my writing #fanfic #star wars #angst #hurt/no comfort #grief #character study #major character death #also sorry for being MIA #its midterms szn #and my mental health is hell #everything is bad so i made everything in here bad too

33 notes · View notes