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tup-ika-5385 · 10 months

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Umbaran Shadows and Blue Milk Ice Cream

Summary:

Nearly six months after Umbara, Tup still can’t push away his alarm as he wakes up in a familiar darkness. After a nightmarish encounter, he finds comfort in a quiet moment with his vod.

Inspired by old rp threads with @clonetrooperdogma and @umbaranshadow!

AO3 Link: Here

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Cold shadows and familiar mist filled Tup’s vision. When he closed his eyes, he’d been safe in the barracks, but now dull purples and neon reds surrounded him on all sides. His stomach clenched with dread, but he knew he was back on Umbara.

Crouching in a dark trench, he could feel the grit between his fingers, and chills went up his spine as he heard a terrifyingly familiar voice, guttural and irate. With a sharp intake of breath, he muttered, “I-It can’t be–”

Turning around, he nearly came face-to-chest with General Krell, the Besalisk towering over him like always, looking down his nose at Tup. He glanced around, for an escape or one of his brothers, he didn’t know, but he was completely alone.

“Well… CT-5385… looks like you’re all alone. Run out of brothers to kill?” Voice dripping in cruelty, Krell gestured behind him to a pile of bodies, stacks of armor bleeding with golden-yellow and blue. At the word “brothers,” his lips curled with smug irony.

“G-General Krell, I-I… how–” Tup flinched despite himself, thinking of all the lives he’d taken on that force-forsaken planet, and how many brothers had died by Krell’s hand.

In the back of his mind, a small portion of his subconscious realized that he was dreaming; he had to be. So with his arms still shaking, he curled his hands into fists and turned to Krell, eyes angry. “You’re not a General anymore, you don’t deserve that honor. And Captain Rex said we’re men! Not numbers! A-And you’re dead! You can’t hurt any of us, not anymore!”

Krell gave a harsh laugh, seeming to get taller as he towered over Tup. “Pitiful… is that what you tell yourself in order to comfort your little clone friends? You are men?”

He leaned down so he was face-to-face with Tup, a harsh hand jabbing his chest. “You are an experiment! An abomination!”

Knocking aside his helmet, Krell gripped Tup’s head in one large hand, gesturing to his armor and hair. “You think these little trinkets make you an individual? Make you human? They don’t! You and the rest of you clones… are nothing but meat shields! Pawns in a higher game– one that your incompetent little minds cannot comprehend! You were made to die for nothing!”

Tup struggled in Krell’s grip, reaching for his blaster but coming up empty. His feet scrabbled as Krell lifted him off the ground. Chest bursting with helpless rage, Tup grit out, “I-I’m not afraid– Do your worst!” Feeling around his belt, Tup managed to get a hand on his vibroknife.

Krell’s voice took on a sickly-sweet tone. “You should be very afraid, CT-5385... I may be dead, but you are not. You cannot harm me, but I am more than ready to harm you... Just ask Dogma.. He’s already had a taste.. A small one but, an experience nonetheless.. His real pain will come from killing you.”

Tup’s eyes widened when, all of a sudden, Dogma appeared beside them, gun in hand, shaking and looking as distraught as Tup had ever seen him, and that’s when Tup made his move. With an angry yell, he struck in one swift blow, aiming for Krell’s arm around his neck, but with a simple wave of his other hand, Krell knocked the blade across the room. He smiled cruelly at Tup in a way that sent chills down his spine. “As I said.. pitiful.”

Disarmed but not fully restrained, Tup put all his strength into a last ditch swing, aiming for Krell’s jiggling throat sack like he wished he’d had the courage to do all those days ago. He thought to himself, knowing it could be the last thing he did. “For my vode, who I wish I could have helped when it mattered…”

Rough hands restrained Tup’s, and all of a sudden, a single shot of blasterfire went off. A burning pain pierced Tup’s abdomen and the world faded to black.

____________________

Jerking awake with one hand on his vibroknife, Tup gasped for breath, still feeling the non-existent blaster wound in his chest. He took a few shuddering breaths before standing up, making his way to the fresher. He splashed his face a few times, trying to stop his hands from shaking. “J-Just a dream, di’kut…”

He looked at his reflection in the mirror with a sigh. It’s been six months since Umbara, to the day, and it still shook him up inside. He grimaced at the small bags under his eyes, hair a tangled mess. Shaking his head, he grabbed a hairtie on his wrist and corralled it into a poor attempt for a bun, hands still fighting for steadiness.

With his heart still trying to beat out of his chest, he sighed to himself. There’s no way he’d be able to fall back asleep after a nightmare like that. He muttered tiredly, “Maybe I’ll head to the mess, get something to drink… try to clear my head.”

Exiting the fresher, Tup made his way to the mess hall. He hoped Dogma was getting better sleep than him; he’d heard his vod muttering in his sleep earlier, but had decided to let him be. As he walked down the halls, he checked his chrono, learning that it was nearly 0200. Rounding the corner, Tup looked up and nearly collided with another trooper still in their blacks.

The other trooper had been almost racing the opposite direction when their paths met, and Tup started when he recognized their familiar V-shaped tattoo. “Sorry, I– Tup? What are you doing awake?” Dogma jumped a little at the realization, shoulders tense.

Tup gave him a brief smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey Dogma… couldn’t sleep. Bad dreams…” He glanced at his brother, noticing a familiar worry-line on his forehead. “... you okay? You look a little stressed.”

Dogma straightened, biting his lip and looking away from Tup. “No, I’m fine.” He fidgeted with the sleeves of his blacks, a tell they’d both shared since Kamino, so Tup pressed a little.

“Do you mean “no, I’m not fine,” or “yes, I’m fine?” Because it sounds more like the first one to me, vod.”

Dogma hesitated, glancing back at Tup reluctantly, noticing for the first time how messy his hair was. Tup’s hair had two main states: down and relaxed or up and tight, passing any GAR inspection. Unless someone else was trying out new hairstyles on him, Tup didn’t really do messy buns, except for now, that is. Paired with his fake smile and minutely shaking hands, they didn’t give Dogma a good picture.

Head tilting in quiet concern, he ignored Tup’s question, asking, “What about you? Nightmares don’t usually have you this worked up.”

Tup sighed, running one hand through his hair. “I’ll be okay in a little. It’s just… Krell again…” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I was back on Umbara, and he was there… calling us meat droids and pawns. I tried to fight him, b-but I was useless. Couldn’t even throw a punch at that stupid throat sack of his… a-and then he ordered you to shoot me…”

Hands shaking as he clenched them into fists, Tup rubbed his forehead in defeat. “... sometimes I wish we could forget Umbara altogether…”

Dogma went pale at the mention of Umbara, breath catching in his throat. “Wait, you– that’s… that’s not possible! He-he can’t–” He broke off, shaking his head rapidly.

Swallowing thickly, Dogma’s eyes filled with dread. “He… he told me that I was going to hurt you– that your blood would be on my hands… I-I dreamed I was on Umbara, and there was a blaster in my hands, and–” He gripped his head with his hands, eyes shut tightly as he started to hyperventilate.

Tup’s eyes widened in surprised concern. “Woah, Dogma, hey… it’s okay, vod…” He reached for Dogma, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, telegraphing his movements so Dogma could push away if he wanted.

Lightly squeezing his shoulder, Tup spoke again. “None of this is your fault, a-and none of it was your fault back then either. Krell’s gone; h-he can’t hurt us anymore.”

He gestured to his clean blacks, not a spot on them or any sign of injury. “Look, see? I’m okay, Dogma. We’re okay…” Slowly, not wanting to startle him further, Tup leaned forward to tap their foreheads together, like they’d do as cadets, the arm on his shoulder light enough to allow Dogma to escape if he needed space, but heavy enough to ground him back in the present.

Dogma forced himself to calm down a little, fighting to sync his breathing to Tup’s. He leaned into Tup’s embrace until the tightness in his chest started to ease a little bit. Voice hoarse, he muttered, “Yeah, I… Sorry– Sorry…” He stayed like that for a little longer before pulling away, finally managing some semblance of calmness.

Tup let Dogma pull away, looking relieved as he calmed down a little. Focusing on Dogma kept his own worry at bay. “I don’t mind, Dogma… you don’t need to apologize, vod. Especially not for that.” Looking around the empty hallway, he decided to sit down so his back was against the wall, and after a beat, Dogma joined him. “Sorry for scaring you, I-I just… it made me worry too, you know?”

Dogma nodded in understanding, not that he’d ever blame Tup for his own issues. He let out a small exhale, looking away again. “Still, it’s a bit of a coincidence that we both had the same dream.” Dogma muttered, breath slowing as he was reassured by Tup’s presence.

“I heard Kix call it the anniversary effect one time, maybe a month after the campaign. Besides, we’re closer than most vode; it’s not too surprising that we’d share dreams.” Tup gave him a small smile, this one reaching his eyes a little more than the last one.

Leaning back against the wall, Tup huffed to himself as he felt his stomach grumble lightly. He hadn’t been very hungry at dinner that night, with the mess hall unusually quiet. Glancing back at Dogma, he asked, “Have you eaten since training, Dogma? Didn’t see you at late-meal tonight.”

Dogma hesitated for a beat longer than he should have, knowing he’d been caught. “Wasn’t hungry… why?”

“Well, I was heading to the mess hall before we ran into each other. Do you want to come with me? We could both use a midnight snack. Besides, it’d be nice to not be alone… unless you were planning on going back to bed?” He gave Dogma a slightly smug look, knowing full well that neither of them would be sleeping anytime soon.

A look of mild annoyance made its way onto Dogma’s face, knowing he was caught. He sighed. “Fine, I’ll go with you. Just because I have nothing better to do. And you’re right, a snack wouldn’t hurt.”

Tup grinned, starting to stand up before offering a hand to Dogma, which he hesitantly accepted. “You know, I think there’s still some ice cream in the stasis freezer. Perfect for a midnight snack– or a 0200 snack, I guess.” He clarified as Dogma opened his mouth, about to correct him on the time.

They made their way to the kitchen, where they found and easily made their way through a half-carton of blue milk ice cream. And if they sat a little bit closer than usual on the durasteel benches in the dimly-lit mess hall, neither of them said anything.

#fanfic #swtcw fanfic #fanfic rewrite of old rp threads #some things different but a lot of things the same #so much credit goes to @clonetrooperdogma and @umbaranshadow for Dogma's and Krell's dialogue in this fic!#give them lots of love #I've been wanting to write fic versions of old rp's for a while and finally got around to it #will be crossposted on AO3 when it stops dying #clone trooper tup #clone trooper dogma #Krell #post-umbara #clone trooper angst #crossposted on ao3 #panic attack #poor tup and dogma #Umbara #not shipping them btw

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ruporas · 11 months

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endless love!

[ID Two drawing collage pages of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. In the first collage, top corner, Wolfwood looks upwards disgruntled with a flushed expression, lying against a pillow, as his hair is being pet by Vash's hand. Next shows Vash and Wolfwood from behind, Wolfwood with his top bare and hickies covers around his nape area. Vash lifts hair away from his nape and asks, "More?" Wolfwood nervously says, "No." Next is a side profile of Vash, his arms around Wolfwood from behind while Wolfwood rests his hands against Vash's arms. Next to this are two smaller drawings; Vash turns to Wolfwood and says repetitively, "Wolfwood, Wolfwood..." Wolfwood, not looking at him, says "What?" He finally turns his head and looks shocked as he exclaims, "So close!" Vash says plainly, "You just noticed?" Below these is a drawing of Vash and Wolfwood sitting together as Vash kisses and hugs him from behind with his right arm around Wolfwood's neck and his left hand around his side. He also has his right leg propped against Wolfwood's knee. Bottom of the page has a comic. Wolfwood looks annoyed, speaking to himself, "Where is that idiot?! Need to get out of town before--" A chat bubble exclaims, "Wolfwood!" The next panel shows Vash running from the townspeople, small text saying "Get him! Vash the stampede!". Wolfwood, mad and about to pull the Punisher off his shoulder, says, "Argh, you fucking dumbass!" Vash exclaims, "Ah, don't!" before pulling Wolfwood into a quick kiss. He then tugs on Wolfwood's collar and says, "There's no need to shoot, just run!" Wolfwood stammers, "R-right..." with a flushed, dumbstruck expression.

Second collage; Top left, Wolfwood spoons Vash in bed, his arms around his chest and the other beneath Vash's head. Vash has his hand on top of Wolfwood's as he sleeps while Wolfwood lies awake. Behind this drawing is faint sketches of Vash's face. In a small panel, Wolfwood hides in Vash's neck as he mumbles to himself "Stop. Stop thinking embarrassing things, Wolfwood..." Beneath this drawing is another of them in bed, Vash now turned to Wolfwood and a hand on his cheek as he kisses him good morning. In a simpler style, Vash wraps an arm tightly around wolfwood with the text "snork mimimi" next to him while Wolfwood says, "We need to get up. Spikey! HEY!" In this corner, there are faint sketches of Vash and Wolfwood; one of them looking at each other; Vash kissing Wolfwood's forehead; Wolfwood saying, "Hand" with an outstretch hand and Vash says "ok" behind a drawing of them holding hands, both turned away from each other shyly. Next is a 4 panel comic. First shows Wolfwood's face getting squished by Vash's hands with the text "squish" around his face. Next, his cheeks are stretched with the text "Chee--" Wolfwood then hits Vash's face with his palm, exclaimining "That hurts!" The last shows Vash on Wolfwood's lap, smiling to himself as he continues to have Wolfwood's face in his hands. Next to this is another comic; A close up of their hands, Vash holding Wolfwood's with both of his. He then kisses the palm of Wolfwood's palm and says, "They're soft!" Wolfwood looks at him with flushed cheeks, "There's no way that's true..." END ID]

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #just posting first for now!!! wanted to have these two spreads together grah #ive been weirdly selective when it comes to posting on tumblr but i really need to start dropping everything from twitter/insta onto here...#anyway what is there to say... i like to just draw them being in love and silly. there are so many flavors to vw #and i so happened to really enjoy the intimate sickeningly affectionate aspect of it... lays down...#give these two touch and loved starved selfless individuals the chance to pour their entire being into loving the other....#thoguh in particular i drew these both for wolfwood wednesday (which is everyday to me) so theyre wolfwood centric #i think for some time i was just seeing a lot of work of vash being loved by wolfwood and obviously that makes sense #ww loves that fool so much and will love him two times as much for the love vash refuses to give himself #but i also love wolfwood and desperately needed to see wolfwood being loved so i drew it #bc it goes both ways... i def believe that ww would be adamant about giving affection to vash at first bc vash would hesitate asking #but once he gets comfortable vash's love pours and he'd noticed too that ww avoids getting spoiled affectionately bc of his own issues #vash is. stubborn to me. more so than wolfwood. he will destroy him with love!!!!!!!!!!!#and wolfwood will adjust and get used to it. being loved. loving. steadily but slowly as his days are filled with soft touches and reminders #that he's being handled gently and with care for the first time in a long time #ruporas art

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