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tup-ika-5385 · 8 months

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Chapter 3 Summary:

Plans are made as Tup's condition starts to deteriorate.

Fic Summary:

Six months after the trials of Umbara, Tup and Dogma are growing into themselves as well-established members of the 501st. Tup's been training more with Fives and Jesse, set on an ARC trooper promotion, and even Dogma has found a place in medical, where his intense focus and organization are both needed and appreciated.

While practicing for his medic exams, Dogma find some worrying abnormalities in Tup's numbers, making some worrying discoveries. As Tup's condition worsens, help comes from unlikely sources as Dogma, Kix, Fives, and Hardcase fight to discover the truth and save their brother.

A Sequel to the fic "A Series of Hard Knocks," focusing on Tup and Dogma as they discover a nefarious plot.

Chapter 3:

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Tup fell asleep the moment they got back to their bunkroom, and after reviewing his notes with Kix, it wasn’t long before Dogma joined him. Despite the sharp worry clawing at the back of his mind, Dogma fell asleep quickly, slumped against his batchmate’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was barely five hours later when he woke up again, Tup still plastered to his side, to find Kix and Fives discussing something over a datapad.

Carefully removing himself from Tup’s grasp, Dogma slid out of the bunk and gave a quiet nod to the other two.

“Get enough sleep, Dogma?” Kix asked with a knowing look. Back when he’d taken his medic’s exam, he hadn’t slept nearly enough. He could only imagine the added stress that Dogma was likely feeling from this whole scenario.

“I’m fine,” Dogma grunted. “How’s Tup’s scans? Have you two come up with anything yet?”

Fives grimaced, “I looked through what I could find of the Kaminoan’s files, and I couldn’t find anything on brain tumors. Other types of tumors, yes, but nothing from the brain.”

Kix nodded, “It was weird, but we could barely even find brain scans to compare Tup’s to; at least not higher-level scans like we did. It’s like the long-necks used their di’kutla hyper tests every single time, just for kicks!”

Fives had been smirking at Kix’s words, “for kicks,” when a thought came to mind. “Still, you’d think that they took brain scans for other things. Brain bleeds, concussions, kriff, even their freaky experiments. But we found nothing. I’m just saying, it’s a little suspicious.”

“Hmm. You might be onto something, Fives. Either way, though, we still need to figure out how to get whatever-it-is out of Tup’s head– without the Kaminoans finding out about it.” Kix said, deep in thought.

“Well, why don’t you just remove it?” Fives asked.

Kix rolled his eyes. “Oh, and should I rearrange the stars while I’m at it? I’m a field medic, Fives, not a brain surgeon. That requires special training; that or a really good medical droid.” He snapped before wincing internally at his tone. “Sorry, haven’t had my kaff yet.”

Fives shrugged, unoffended. “It’s okay, we all had an early start today. But if it’s a med droid we need, that shouldn’t be too difficult. We’ll just need to find one and convince it to do the surgery without alerting the long-necks. Easy!”

Dogma raised an eyebrow at Fives’ nonchalance. “And how do you plan on doing that?” Fives was taking this far too lightly, in his sleep-deprived opinion.

Typing on his datapad once again, Fives responded. “Well, if you give me a moment to find the programming manual for those medical droids–”

“An AZ unit would be better,” Kix interjected, and Fives nodded before continuing.

“Yep, just as I thought. Most droids, even the stuffy ones, will go against basic protocol if it means that their base function is fulfilled. Luckily for us, AZ units are programmed to do what’s best for the patient, above all else! So if we convince the droid that it would harm Tup to alert the Kaminoans, we should be good to go!”

“Are you sure that’s going to work?” Dogma asked, hopeful but still skeptical.

“I’m sure of it! Besides, growing up with Echo as a batchmate, I got pretty good at thinking around the regs.” Fives grinned, relieved that they finally had a plan to help Tup. Sure, he was close with everyone in his squad, but since Echo died, Tup was his best friend, and he hated feeling helpless when his brothers were hurting.

Kix nodded, and the group sank into thought. “How are we going to get our hands on a medical droid?”

Fives smirked, “Leave that to me.”

When Tup came back to awareness an hour later, his entire being felt like it was wrapped in a thick fog. If his vision had been a little off earlier, now it was downright blurry, and he shook his head a bit in the hopes that it would clear it. Instead, a sharp pain lanced through his skull and he let out a groan.

Distantly, he could hear his brothers moving around him, and one of the blurs got close enough that he could recognize Dogma. “-Hey Tup, how are you feeling?”

Tup scrubbed at his face with a clumsy hand. He may not have Dogma’s training, but something definitely felt off. “I-I don’t… feel like myself…” He muttered, earning a concerned look from Dogma.

“Hey Kix, does his voice sound slurred to you?” Dogma asked, shining a light in Tup’s eyes, and Tup let out an uncharacteristic whimper as the light seared his retinas.

“Sorry, sorry, vod. Just need to check something.” He apologized before turning towards the other medic, and Tup drifted a little, in a haze.

“ –Tup. Tup?” Flinching harshly, Tup realized that he’d spaced out again, and the other three troopers were all standing around him.

“W-what?” He asked, attempting to get up, only to be pushed back down with a gentle hand.

“We need to get him back to medbay– now.” Kix said, voice insistent. “I don’t know why, but his numbers are looking worse, and I don’t want to hold off for too much longer.”

Dogma nodded, and Tup belatedly realized that he’d captured his batchmate’s hand at some point, but thankfully Dogma didn’t seem to mind, squeezing it lightly whenever he started to drift again.

“How are we going to get him into medbay undetected?” He asked, and Fives opened his mouth to respond when, all of a sudden, Hardcase entered the room with an enthusiastic grin.

“Vode, you would not believe the– what’s going on?” Hardcase paused, noting the stress lines on Kix’s face, and how they all gathered around Tup. “Is Tup alright?”

Fives paused before taking charge of the situation. “There’s no time to explain, vod. We’ve gotta go to medbay. But first, I need you to do something for me.”

Nodding expectantly, Hardcase said. “Anything, Fives.”

At that, Fives’ expression quirked into a small grin. “I need you to punch me in the face.”

Hardcase blinked, and hardly a moment later, Fives was clutching his jaw with a groan. “You could’ve at least hesitated, vod!” He complained, shaking his head to clear it, a sardonic grin on his face. “Right, let’s head to medical.” He ordered, and the others were swift to follow, with Kix and Dogma each looping one of Tup’s arms around their shoulders.

Hardcase followed behind, a small grin on his face despite his growing worry. “You said there’s no time, Fives… why exactly did I just punch you in the face?”

“Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” Fives said, and Hardcase nodded. He’d followed the ARC into fire many times before; following him into medbay couldn’t be that bad.

Once they got to medbay, citing a sparring match gone wrong, it wasn’t long before Fives and Tup were seated on an exam table, being looked over by a med droid. Thankfully, it was one of the newer AZ units Kix had mentioned.

With Tup slumped on Fives' side, looking increasingly worse and muttering under his breath about good soldiers, it didn’t take long for the med droid to recognize that something else was going on. Thankfully, Fives came prepared, and after Kix showed the medical droid their scans, it wasn’t long before they were deep in discussion.

“Think about it. It’s your duty to save the patient, right?” Fives asked.

“That is correct.” The med droid bobbed his head in a nod, surprisingly expressive for a droid.

“And you agree that surgery is the correct course of action with these scans, as the best way to save the patient, right?”

“That is correct.”

“So, by stalling and informing the Kaminoans, who according to you, would move to terminate, dissect, and study the patient, you’d be letting the patient die, willingly.”

Fives forced himself to continue, keeping his voice even despite how the words threatened to choke him. Tup wasn’t on death’s door, not yet, but if he kept going downhill as fast as he was, Fives didn’t need to be a medic to know it’d be bad.

“Impossible! That is against my programming!”

“That’s not the way it looks to me,” Fives challenged.

“I cannot perform a surgery of this magnitude without disobeying protocols.” AZ-3 hedged, and Fives knew he had him right where he wanted.

“Check your programming,” Fives said. “I thought saving the patient at all costs was fundamentally your highest order.”

“That is correct.”

“Right, then let’s get to it.” Finally, Fives allowed a relieved look to cross his face as the medical droid was finally convinced to do the surgery– without alerting the Kaminoans. He looked over to Kix and Dogma, seeing dual looks of relief. Hardcase still looked a little confused, having been blindsided by the whole scenario, but thankfully, he’d kept the questions to a minimum, recognizing the urgency of the situation.

“Remind me to never leave you alone with a medical droid, vod.” Kix said, tired yet amused, still beyond grateful that Tup was going to get the help he needed.

Tup himself was oblivious to everything that had happened, having fallen into an uneasy state of unconsciousness after they’d laid him down on the exam table, not quite asleep, but definitely not awake either. His hand was still being carefully grasped by Dogma as he kept watch over his brother.

The med droid bobbed in the air, quickly getting started with the surgery prep. “CT-5385 is already unconscious, but I will administer a sedative to ensure he does not awaken during the surgery.”

Fives interjected. “Tup. His name is Tup.”

“Tup? What is a Tup?” The med droid asked, confused.

“He’s my friend; our brother. He’s not a number.” Fives continued, insistent.

“Yes he is. We all have numbers. My number is AZ-345211896246498721347. His number is CT-5385.

“Wrong, he has a name. No clone uses their number, not anymore.” Not since Kamino, and definitely not since Umbara, if any of them had a say in it.

“But you are a number. CT-5555.” The med droid’s tone was curious, even as it puttered around the exam room prepping for Tup’s surgery.

“No, I am Fives. Call me Fives.”

Kix’s face quirked into a small smile, listening to Fives argue with the medical droid. Still, he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of the ARC trooper’s tactics, convincing the med droid to help Tup.

“But, five is a number?”

“No, not five, Fives .” Fives enunciated to the confused droid.

“Oh…” AZ-3 nodded, and Fives grinned in success, only to be crushed when AZ continued. “The difference is minimal.”

Dogma huffed in amusement, appreciating the distraction from Tup’s deteriorating health, however small. As he stood there, waiting for the medical droid to start cutting into his batchmate’s brain, Dogma jumped forward at a sudden thought.

“Wait– Tup’s hair, I don’t…” Dogma paused, forcing himself to use clinical terms, even though it was his batchmate laying on the exam table, unconscious and vulnerable.

He reworded his thoughts carefully. “Cutting the patient’s hair unnecessarily would negatively impact his wellbeing. I’ve read about other techniques for civilians with brain tumors, but… is there any way to do the surgery without shaving his head?”

AZ-3 tilted his head robotically. “Hair is not alive, and thus has no pain receptors. How would cutting CT-5385’s hair negatively impact his well-being?”

Dogma paused for a moment, trying to explain. “Tup… when we were cadets, a trainer once attempted to forcibly cut his hair, against his will. After this event, his range scores were lower for a while, and he had trouble sleeping until it started to grow out again. Even now, he’s… careful about who he allows to touch his hair. Losing sleep could lengthen his recovery, which would be harmful to his overall health.”

A moment passed, and AZ-3’s servos whirred for a second before responding. “It would be less efficient, and would be more time-consuming, but it can be done. Hair-sparing techniques will only require me to shave half-an inch of his hair away from the surgical area, once I have applied the proper sealants. Would you like me to proceed with the surgery for clone trooper Tup?”

Dogma let out a sigh of relief as AZ immediately started prepping for the surgery. “Yes, thank you, AZ.”

AZ bobbed his head, hardly pausing from his “I am a droid, I do not require thanks.”

Dogma shook his head, exasperated, before stepping back, reassured that Tup’s hair would be saved. As he moved back towards the others, Fives gave him a friendly nudge. “Good job, vod. I didn’t even think about his hair.”

Dogma nodded wearily. “He’s going to have enough worries after this surgery. I didn’t want to add any more, if I could help it.” He kept his gaze on Tup, forcing himself not to look away as AZ continued with the surgery. It was lucky that they'd gotten him into surgery when they did, but his brain couldn't stop going through likelihoods of brain damage, skull pressure, even death, as he forced his gaze away from Tup's vitals.

He flinched slightly as Fives wrapped an arm around his shoulders before he relaxed a little bit at Fives’ reassurance. “Tup’s lucky to have a vod like you watching out for him.”

“Thanks… you too.”

Even with the additional steps for the hair-sparing surgery, it wasn’t long before AZ-3 finished the surgery, placing a bacta patch over the incision. Once he was done, he transferred the tumor to a microscope slide, which he passed to Kix.

“What is that?” Fives asked, shuddering at the misshapen tumor on the slide, and a pit of dread filled Dogma’s stomach as he looked back at Tup, still painfully still. Only time would tell if there were any lasting effects, so he squeezed his batchmate’s hand and hoped for the best.

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bokatanweek · 1 year

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Hi! Thought I’d drop by and tell you I have multiple Kix and Bo sibling fics. Probably a dozen now. You can find them on AO3 under eurusholmmes!

OH WOW I TOTALLY MISSED THIS ASK SORRY

Everyone should 100% go check these out though because Kix & Bo is an absolutely adorable sibling combo and I promise you will fall in love with them too!!

#fic rec #not bkw #listen #kix deserves to get out of cryo early and be adopted by bo katan #i'm just sayin

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cats-inthe-cradle · 2 years

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Step-dad Fives step-dad Fives step-dad Fives step-dad Fives stepdad—

#dont mind me #i was just going through some old 50 years later posts and thinking about fives and raani and raani's 2 adult kids who are very skeptical #of fives at first #all they really know about him is that he's one of their mom's ex's from back during the rebellion #they give him a chance tho for their mom's sake (they havnt seen her that happy since their dad died) and eventually he wins them over #cradle talks #cradle's stuff #star wars #cradle's ocs #cradle's fics #immortal fives & kix 50 years later #au of an au

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wanderinginksplot · 1 year

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Clone Trooper Rambles

Part writing exercise, part diary, part daydream. Rambles are an idea of how life would be with clone troopers around. In these Rambles, clone troopers are unseen and unheard by other people, but they're always willing to share their opinions on my life and choices.

Warnings: This Ramble references a throat surgery I had a while ago. This is not current (Rambles rarely are), but it contains themes of frustration, recovery, and worry about future abilities. Please read with caution!

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Ukulele

“Your voice sounds better,” Kix told me.

He had been observing my recovery with interest, noting each benchmark no matter how small it was. It could very well have been irritating, but I appreciated it. Otherwise, I was worried I would slip into frustrated self-pity about the slow pace everything was taking.

“Thanks!” I thought about it for a moment. “It has been almost two months since the surgery, though.”

“They said up to six months until you can expect full use of your vocal cords,” Rex reminded. He had insisted on going to every post-operation appointment with me. By this point, he probably knew more about my recovery than I did.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh. “I hope I last that long.”

I had managed to regain most of the tones I used to speak. As long as I didn’t try to do anything too dramatic with my voice, or speak too long or too loudly, I sounded almost normal. It was certainly better than the first few weeks after the operation. When I could first bring myself to speak, I sounded like Izzy Hands from Our Flag Means Death.

“Why wouldn’t you last?” Waxer asked.

“It sounds stupid…” I hedged, only to be met with three steady stares. “I miss singing.”

“Have you… tried to sing?” It took a while for Kix to ask the question, but he seemed eager to hear the answer. Times like these, I was reminded how similar medical professionals and scientists were in their attitudes about unknown situations or variables.

I brought my mind back to the question. “Uh… No, actually. I just figured it wouldn’t work and I didn’t want to risk hurting something.”

“Now that you’re talking better, I think you should sing,” Waxer suggested. “Don’t try to scream something or belt out an opera, but give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The answer to that, of course, was that I would mess something up in my vocal cords and lose not only the ability to sing, but the ability to speak as well. Something told me that a worst-case method of thinking wouldn’t go over well in this particular crowd, so I just nodded. “I’ll probably try it on the way home.”

I did, in fact, end up singing on the way home. ‘Singing’ probably isn’t the right description, though. I tried to croak out the songs I loved and could always sing, but it wasn’t happening. No matter what note I was trying to sing, it would end up as one of the five notes I was able to speak in. Even trying to raise my voice to a notably high pitch only ended with a slight difference in tone.

It was odd. It hadn’t bothered me too badly that I couldn’t sing when it was background knowledge, but having it proven made me frustrated beyond reason.

After a thankfully short journey home, I took a shower and played a podcast instead of music. There was no use in listening to music if I couldn’t sing along. Even after I had showered and eaten a snack - my typical mood-lightening routine - I still felt irritated and on edge.

When I stood and started for my room, the troopers looked concerned. "Everything okay?"

I nodded with a slight, reassuring smile and kept walking. When I had sat comfortably on my bed, I pulled a small, light case onto the surface of my comforter. It unzipped easily and I took the slight weight of the ukulele into my hands.

It had been an impulse purchase from years before, a treat for restraining myself from buying an antique accordion at a flea market in my hometown. I had never intended to keep it so long, but the bright orange paint made me happy, as did the cheerful zing of the nylon strings.

Tuning it took only a moment. The correct notes were ingrained in my head after so long. Along with those notes were a few particular patterns for them. It was as easy as breathing to slip into the opening notes of the Beatles's Let It Be.

The chords rose and fell under my fingers as I played the familiar melody. It was my favorite song to play when I needed a little thinking space, and my knowledge of the actual song had long faded into a vague idea of refrain and chorus.

I played and thought about my surgery and my fear, my voice and my frustration… about everything and nothing. When the suffocating worry in my chest had moved far enough away that I could pick through the tangle, I began to do just that but stopped after only a moment.

I could play. I could breathe. I could live. That was enough for today. I would handle the rest of it when I decided it was important. That might never happen. That was fine.

With a sense of peace cooling my blood, I began to whistle along with the song plucked out with the tips of my fingers. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

When I let the last bright notes fade away, I smiled at Rex. He had sat on my bed at some point, but I couldn't track exactly when.

"Thought you didn't like that song?" he asked, voice low and careful. It seemed like he was worried he would break the calm spell if he spoke too loudly.

"I don't. Not to listen to, anyway. I think it's sad and wistful, and that isn't the kind of song I like to listen to." I began to pack away the small instrument as I spoke, glancing at Rex. "But on the ukulele? It's… I don't know how to describe it, but it's like the difference between a slow, mournful fade and the fond remembrance of a favorite time."

The crease between his brows didn't disappear. "And it makes you feel better?"

I took a deep breath, feeling far lighter than I had when I started to play. "Yeah, it does."

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Previous | Next | Masterlist

Author's Note - Like I said, this isn't a current situation, but it is very much real. For anyone who may be struggling with recovery of any kind right now, I wish you all the best! Please know that I'm rooting for you!

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @nomercyforthewarrior @bitchylittleredhead @lackofhonor @buddee @salaminus @hikime @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @shawtyitsyou @bikerlorian @torchbearerkyle @frietiemeloen @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @dancingwiththeplanets @theclonesdeservebetter @murder-of-crows-1 @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @marennial @eyecandyeoz @fordo-kixed-rex @lucyysthings @quietplaceinthestars @dinsverdika @xxxcertifiednerdxxx @coruscanticoffee @archangelsunited @samgraver

#clone trooper rambles #ink's fics #ink's life #rambles #star wars #star wars the clone wars #kix #captain rex #clone trooper waxer #fun fiction #music #not crazy just creative #more to come

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redshoes-blues · 1 month

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I feel like every main character I write from the perspective of is always going to be somewhat neurodivergent (whether intentionally or not) because it’s impossible for me to imagine what it’s like living as a neurotypical person

#this used to mostly be accidental but lately I’ve been leaning into it a bit more #the mc of my current wip has my personal brand of autism and ocd. it’s very cathartic to write from her pov #and kix in the fic I’m working on accidentally has sensory issues so I’m just leaning into it because why the fuck not #writing stuff #neurodivergent #neurodivergency

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ladylucksrogue · 2 years

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Day 28: It's Just the Tip of the Iceberg

A snippet of Anakin's feelings during the Deception Arc, after he finds out Obi-Wan is alive...

#whumptober2022 #no.28 #headache #anger born of worry #punching the wall #fic #it's just the tip of the iceberg #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #ahsoka #clone medic kix #rako hardeen #deception arc

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veneataur · 2 years

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Whumptober 28/31

prompt: it's just the tip of the iceberg

fandom: Star Wars

words: 667

tw: non-consensual body modification, mutilation, panic attack

a/n: This one continues on from the last one. It is darker and I've tried to tag it as such. There's nothing graphic. I'm honestly not sure whether to go with the non-con body modification or the mutilation, so I've tagged both to properly tag.

Obi-Wan’s rescue, surprisingly, goes according to plan. He’s far from conscious by the time Ahsoka gets him to the ship where Kix and Anakin are waiting but she gets him there. Kix starts treating his numerous injuries, muttering some about where to even start and how barbaric this punishment was, while Ahsoka helps where she can, and Anakin takes the ship back to the Negotiator.

Waking up takes a good few days for Obi-Wan. He wakes briefly, but never really can manage to open his eyes. Part of that is simply exhaustion from the ordeal but part is also the Kix is keeping him sedated to allow his body to heal before he starts insisting that he’s fine and okay to resume his duties.

Kix tapers off the sedatives after a few days. By then, the burns have been treated and most are on their way to healing and the lashes have been clear of infection for a couple of days and are stitched up. Without help, Obi-Wan sleeps fitfully for another day.

Obi-Wan tries to open his eyes but finds them heavy and almost glued shut. He’s too tired to care much about solving the problem so he drifts back to sleep.

Once he can finally, fully wake up, he doesn’t know how long it's been. He has the vaguest recollection of Ahsoka talking to him and then having to walk. His body is stiff. He doesn’t hurt, which he counts as good, though he can quite remember why, but moving brings uncomfortable pulling and stretching on his skin.

“I’d recommend just staying put, General,” Kix says. Obi-Wan turns to look at him. There are dark circles under his eyes and his clothes are rumpled. What happened? What isn’t he remembering?

“You’re recovering pretty well, but there were a lot of injuries. How’re you feeling? Any pain?”

Obi-Wan tries to speak but his tongue won’t work. He groans, shaking his head.

“Sorry, sir,” Kix says seeing him trying to speak. “You’ve been unconscious for a few days. You’re probably thirsty.” Kix grabs a cup with a straw with one hand and helps raise Obi-Wan up with the other.

“Small sips,” Kix says though he doesn’t allow Obi-Wan to make that decision on his own, pulling the cup away after he’s gotten a small drink. He lets him have a few more then helps Obi-Wan to settle back on the bed. “We’ll see how that settles. If you can keep it down, then you can have more.”

Obi-Wan nods, looking tired.

“You should get some more rest, sir.”

Obi-Wan nods, his eyes closing of their own volition.

When he wakes again, he’s more alert. Kix is there again.

“Good to see you more alert this time, sir,” he says. “How’re you feeling?”

Again Obi-Wan tries to speak but his tongue isn’t working as it should. He tries moving it around. It doesn’t feel right. It’s like it isn’t there.

The monitors start beeping before he even realizes he’s panicking. He can’t breathe and his heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his body. Kix sees it all at about the same time Obi-Wan starts panicking.

“You need to calm down, General. Your speech will come back. You have just been through quite the ordeal.” Kix keeps his voice calm as he monitors Obi-Wan. He doesn’t like how worked up the man is getting.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, his mind blank as panic takes over. He tries speaking but it comes out garbled and unhelpful. He grabs at Kix, not feeling how it tears through the careful stitches holding his back together. He grabs for the man and opens his mouth.

If it had been any other patient, Kix would have written the behavior off as part of the panic attack, but it’s Obi-Wan. So he steps closer and looks in his mouth as Obi-Wan wanted him to.

“Shit,” he says, his own mind doing a slow panic when he sees the stub of Obi-Wan’s tongue.

#whumptober2022 #no.28 #it's just the tip of the iceberg #star wars #fic #non consensual body modification #mutilation #panic attack #obi wan kenobi #clone medic kix #obi wan whump

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merlincmgirl · 6 months

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Your Boys To The Rescue

Summary: You've somehow managed to get trapped in the refresher and it's up to your boys in the Torrent Company to come get you out.

Author's Note: So this is my first clone fic, and the first fic I've written in ages! I was heavily inspired by the tiktok (link below). Please be kind, I hope that I was able to capture everyone right. Can be seen as pre-relationship or platonic reader x torrent company.

Characters: Rex, Kix, Jesse, Fives, Hardcase, Tup, Dogma

Word count: 2020

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe12t8Sr/

You were mortified. Absolutely mortified. Hearing the voices on the other side of the door, arguing between themselves was not making you feel any better. You desperately wanted to disappear but there was no chance of that, not while the kriffing refresher door was stuck.

It was just your luck you decided to shower in the refresher attached to your office. The work you had been doing was still piled high on your desk, and you thought a nice warm shower would be just the thing to relax you and prepare you for the unending amount of flimsi you had to go through. It had been going so well until you realised that you had left your clean uniform in your office and went to go get it, only a towel wrapped around you. A simple, honest mistake that was now costing you because the door was jammed. It refused to open, no matter how many times you had tried.

That had been when Captain Rex had knocked on your office door, wishing to talk to you about some report that you had sent over to him. Your desperation to get out of the refresher outweighed your pride as you banged loudly on the metal door, begging him to help you out and find a way to open the door. He had tried everything to open the door by himself, but after trying everything he could, he had to call in reinforcements.

Now, you were leaning against the counter, towel covering your modesty as Torrent Company tried to either break down the door (Hardcase had swiftly received a slap off someone for that suggestion); or slice the mechanics/electrics of the door to at least slide it open to get you out of there. That suggestion was greatly preferred.

“Mesh’la, how you doing in there?” Rex called through the door. He sounded quite close to it and you shuffled forward so that he could hear you better over the small curses of his men and the sound of tools.

“I’m fine Captain, just… bit cold in here” you admitted, rubbing up and down your arms to try and bring some warmth into them. It had been about half an hour since you got out of the shower, and the cool metal of the room was not helping you at all.

“We’ll warm you up as soon as you as we get you out of here” Hardcase assured, followed swiftly by a cry of pain.

“Hardcase!”

“What?! It was a joke! Lighten up a little Dogma!” Hardcase complained, not sounding a bit sorry about what he said. You couldn’t help but let out a small snicker, used to the clone’s brand of humour.

“Knock it off you two. How are we in getting this door open?” Rex rebuked, bringing them back on task.

“It’s not looking good. Looks like it might be a manual override” you heard Jesse admit quietly. Groaning at your misfortune, you began to pace up and down, as much as you could anyway in the tiny refresher. “Don’t worry, cyare, we’ll get you out of there soon” Jesse promised, not wanting to upset you even more.

“Boys, perhaps we should get a service droid in to fix it?” you suggested, leaning your head against the metal door. It was soothing and brought you out of your head a little.

“We’ve got this, cyar’ika! They teach us slicing in ARC training” Fives bragged, making his brothers groan and tell him to shut up.

“If that was the case, Rex would have been able to get me out. This rate, I’m going to have to give my briefings through the door dressed in a towel!” you complained, unable to help the little pout that pulled at your lips. It was the least you deserved, especially as you had a morning briefing with the Admiral and Generals.

“At least you’d look hot, cyar’ika!” Fives flirted with you, making you smile.

“Not helping Fives!” you chuckled, going back to pacing again.

There was a large creak before lots of cursing and cries of pain. “What happened?” you demanded, rushing to the door and trying to pry it open with your bare hands.

“These di’kuts pulled the wrong circuits and got shocked for their troubles!” a grumbled voice came from further away in your office. You knew that voice, even if it was the same as his millions’ of brothers. Kix was here. Rex must have called him when he had went to get the others.

“Your bedside manner needs work vod!” Jesse complained, shaking his head and going back to the door along with Fives and Hardcase.

“Rex! You called Kix? But I’m fine. I’m not hurt at all!” you argued with the Captain. Now there was even more people to witness your shame and embarrassment.

“Just a precaution, Mesh’la. You can’t be too careful” Rex answered, and you could already imagine the smirk on his face at that. You didn’t like to be checked over by the medics, especially if there were clones who were also injured. You would rather put them in front of you.

“Hey, I think we’ve got it. Stand away from the door ma’am” Tup soft voice warned you. It warmed your inside at how caring these boys was to you.

“Thanks Tup, but there’s not much room in here if it falls in” you informed him, standing as far back as you can.

“Oh wait a minute! I think that’s it!” Fives muttered, voice rising in excitement. By the force you hoped that they had finally got it.

“There’s a piece right there!” Hardcase pointed out, tinkling with the tools in his hand.

“You see that piece right there?” Dogma asked, leaning over his brothers’ shoulders to poke at it. Kix pulled him back before he could get sparked.

“Yeah, yeah, I see it. Hold on” Jesse grunted, trying to move around Hardcase to be able to fix it in place.

“Just hold it right there, no. Not there, di’kut, where I’m pointing! Tup keep the torch still!” Fives grumbled, as his brothers were not helping him at all. You sighed, it had been like this for half an hour, all of them sniping and snapping at each other.

“No, you have to pull it up to the side” Hardcase argued instead.

“I am keeping it still!” Tup added.

“Someone just get General Skywalker! I’m sure he’d be able to fix it in no time!” you begged, desperate to get out of the kriffing refresher and into bed to catch a few hours of sleep before you had to go back to work.

“Men!” Rex’s sharp voice cut through their argument. “Don’t worry mesh’la, I promise they’re nearly done. Just a few more minutes” Rex soothed, hearing how frazzled you were becoming with the situation.

Sighing heavily, you waited for the door to open. You loved these idiots, but god did you feel like killing them right now. They could have their arguments later, but all you wanted was to get out. You didn’t want to be stuck in a refresher all your life. There was plans on the horizon for your future, not dying in the refresher because of the kriffing door!

There was a loud twang and your heart leapt into your throat as you hoped it was the mechanism for the door. But still nothing happened. It kept stubbornly in it’s jam.

“I wouldn’t drive it in though” Dogma frowned, shaking his head at his brothers’ rough work with the delicate pieces of machinery.

“Shut up Dogma!” Jesse huffed back.

“He almost had it then!” Hardcase assured his brother, as the wire in front of them shifted back to where it wasn’t meant to be.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Don’t push it!”

“AHH FIVES! I said DON’T push it!” Jesse cried, as he almost had it again but it slipped through his fingers as Fives moved his screwdriver slightly.

“Well I thought you meant push it!” Fives complained, and you couldn’t help but laugh, burying your head into your hands. The vode always made you laugh, even in the direst of situations.

There was some rattling and without any resistance, the doors pulled apart, revealing the group of men by the door. Hardcase, Jesse, Fives and Dogma was squashed around the panel housing the controls. Tup standing behind them, torch in hand. Rex and Kix was standing in the doorway, both of them looking you over.

“Ooh!” you squeaked out, clutching onto your towel tighter.

Rex, realising that him and his men was getting a good look at you in your towel, quickly snapped out of his heated gaze and turned to address the men. “Eyes front and centre soldiers!” he barked out, making them snap to attention and face forward.

“Er… Captain… I’m still front and centre” you mumbled, heat rushing to your cheeks as Fives winked at you.

“Oh… right… sorry Mesh’la. Avert your eyes!” Rex ordered, voice wavering slightly. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn that the Captain’s cheeks were becoming a little redder.

“Hey, cyar’ika, how are you feeling? Any shaking? Signs of hypothermia?” Kix asked, jumping straight into his medic role as he came over to scan you.

“How come he gets to look?” Hardcase complained, making you blush even more.

“Because I’m a medic, and a professional! You might want to look that up, vod!” Kix retorted, before turning back to you. “Anyway, are you experiencing any symptoms of dizziness, nausea?” Kix questioned, running an eye over you as you shivered slightly.

“I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy and tired… and hungry” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck abashedly.

“Hmm, we should get you sitting down and something to help warm you up” Kix nodded, turning to his commanding officer. Rex nodded, instructing Tup to go and get you something warm from the mess hall.

“Thank you guys, I don’t know what I would do without you” you bid the troopers behind Kix. Tup nodded swiftly and hurried out the room, the back of his neck colouring.

“Come sit down” Rex encouraged, hand coming over to your elbow to help guide you into your office and onto the couch that you had smuggled in with the men’s help last time that you were planet-side.

Rex and Kix helped you to sit down, Kix busying with making sure that you were okay and not hiding anything. “Honestly Kix, I’d tell you if I weren’t doing good. I’m just a bit cold, that’s all. I promise, nothing to worry about” you assured, not noticing the towel fall open on your thigh.

Rex coughed, making his men spin around, mumbling apologies and excuses not to look your way. “I think that’s enough gawking for one night. You’re dismissed” Rex stated, crossing his arms and standing in front of you, trying to block you from sight.

“Wait! Before you go, you’ll have to let me know how I can repay you for this” you called after them, resting your hand on Rex’s back to help push him gently to one side so you could see your rescuers.

“You can buy us a drink at 79’s if you really want” Jesse suggested, making you beam. That was an easy thing for you to do to repay them for their kindness and help.

“Done!” you agreed, before you remembered a conversation with General Kenobi last time you were on shore leave with the 212th. “Wait! I thought you got drinks free at 79s!” you frowned, as they were nearly out the door.

“Oh the beer we do. The cocktails… well that’s all on you now cyare” Fives teased, before pushing Dogma and Jesse out the door in front of him.

You gaped after their retreating forms. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“I hope you have a lot of money, ad’ika” Kix shook his head, finishing his checks on you and pulling the scanner down.

“Because they’re going to bleed you dry, Mesh’la” Rex chuckled wryly, amused at your surprised at being played by his men.

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dystopicjumpsuit · 20 days

Note

Cuddles and Snuggles?! 👀

Sign me up lol

I have a request if you feel inspired by it 👀

6. trying to crawl under their shirt with either Wrecker or Kix.

Because I would very much like to hide under their shirts than deal with the outside lol

If you think of someone that fits the prompt better, then do that instead! (Or you can entirely disregard this ofc lol)

😘💜💜💜

A/N: Moonie! I had this whole ficlet planned out, and then we chatted about this wonderful Wrecker art by @pinkiemme, and it took over my entire brain. So thank you both for inspiring me. 🖤♥️

Pairing: Wrecker x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 573

Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, established relationship shenanigans, very slightly suggestive dialogue, mild language

Summary: Wrecker is just so warm.

Suggested Listening (English translation here):

This fic smells like: Work From Home by Memoire Archives (cappuccino, caramel, biscotti)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

You rolled over to find an empty bed. You groped blindly through the blankets, but Wrecker was nowhere to be found, and based on how cold the sheets were, he’d been gone a while. Grinding the palms of your hands into your eyes, you sat up, searching blearily for him. There was no sign of him, so you stumbled out of bed to form a rescue party of one. It wasn’t long before you saw the soft blue glow of his datapad as he curled up on the sofa in the darkness.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak.

He looked up and smiled. “What’re you doin’ up?”

“I got cold,” you replied. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll make us some caf,” you said.

“Already got some moogan tea,” he replied, holding up a steaming mug.

Screw the caf, then, you decided, immediately crossing the room to plop down next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, wrapped your arms around his waist, and draped your legs across his thigh, tucking your feet against his calf.

“You really are cold,” Wrecker said with a laugh as he felt your frigid toes.

“Warm me up?” you pleaded, giving him the softest, most pathetic tooka eyes you could muster at such an early hour.

“C’mere, then,” he replied, adjusting your position so he could hold you a little closer while still staring over your head at his datapad.

“Reading something good?” you asked.

He kissed the top of your head. “Candy Crush.”

You laughed quietly and snuggled closer, teasing your chilled fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. He flinched away involuntarily, but when you pulled back, he let out a little grumble.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You just surprised me. Come back.”

You didn’t bother to put up even a token resistance, instead diving your icy hands enthusiastically back under his shirt.

“Gods, you’re so warm!” you murmured, burrowing closer and sliding your hands further and further under his shirt, until you were practically wearing it with him.

“I do that on purpose so you’ll cuddle up to me,” he replied, holding back a laugh. “Comfy down there?”

“I’m working on it,” you replied. “You’re a really good heat source.”

“And you’re a really good icicle.” He set down his mug and wrapped his free arm around you. “You tryin’ to climb all the way inside my shirt?”

“Our shirt,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric. “Besides, I’m not trying. I’m succeeding.”

“Well, maybe I should just carry you back to our bed so you can have a real blanket.”

“No, this is fine,” you replied from inside his—ahem—your shirt. “It’s cozy. I live here now.”

You felt the deep rumble of his chuckle against your cheek as you nuzzled your face against his chest. “You gonna pay rent?”

“Nah, I’m sleeping with the landlord. He’d never evict me.”

"You got that right." He shifted, and you heard the soft clatter of his datapad as he set it on the floor, then both of his arms closed around you. With seemingly no effort at all, he lifted you up and rolled the both of you over so you were tucked securely between him and the back of the sofa, wrapped in his embrace. He yawned loudly, and you knew he’d doze off within minutes. "Now stop squirmin’ and go back to sleep.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!

More Bad Batch fics: Hunter fluff; Hunter spice; Crosshair hurt comfort; Crosshair fluff; Tech cuddles; more Tech cuddles

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

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#wrecker #tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #bad batch fic #star wars #gn reader #sw tbb fanfic #bad batch #dystopicjumpsuit writes #flashing gif

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vytels · 4 months

Text

I absolutely love gremlin Echo so much. This man was a Domino, through and through… they were all a little crazy. Fives and Echo used to get under so many people’s skin, they’d mess with Rex and hide behind Cody for example.

Like I imagine that Echo used to come up with the plans for that stuff just as often as Fives, whether it was rewiring droids to mess up Rex’s documents or locking Kix in the medical bay office.

But then everything happened, and things changed.

Echo probably lost the gremlin part of him when he realized that Fives died. It wasn’t revived when he joined the Bad Batch. He felt like he had to become a new person, so he became a “killjoy” instead.

He didn’t feel like Echo anymore because part of him had died and he was now more droid than metal.

And honestly, I need a fic where he stars to heal and become himself again… where he starts to prank again, he starts to open up, be less of a “killjoy” and then he becomes more vocal about not hating the regs either. Or like maybe when Omega comes aboard?

Honestly, I just love Echo learning to heal fics

#star wars #clone wars #commander cody #clone captain rex #the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #sw tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb omega

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commanderfoxdeservesbetter · 7 months

Text

So Far Away: Part 1

Okay I keep reading the fics where Fox is named Dar’Vod after the Fives incident

And it keeps running in my head but imagine:

Rex, in the heat of his anger, calls Fox dar’vod and that’s the last he’s ever spoken to Fox when he’s alive

Their friendship is ruined and Rex, despite regretting the words, doesn’t try to fix the relationship and Fox throws himself into his work to avoid Cody’s prying of what happened

Well, the empire rises and Fox dies by Vader’s hand and Rex survives - guilt-filled - because Fives was right and he doesn’t know if that meant Fox was under the chip when he killed Fives or not and he never got to make amends and figure out the truth (and Rex knows it’s his fault and it’s just another burden added on that he’ll have to carry)

What I’m saying is: Fox stuck in a limbo, unable to march on because being named Dar’Vod means he is unwelcomed

And all the Vod’e - those who have died or are dying - pass him as they go to the Vod’e

Most All have tried to free him, tried to redact the title

Cody, most of all when he died, stated that the title was never meant to be given and Fox should be able to March on and yet when a barrier separates him from his vod’ika, he screams

Even Fives tried coming back to remove the title - talking with Fox for hours about he never blamed Fox for his death but still Fox cannot march on

It’s only when Boba (who died an unfortunate death by Vader earlier than he was meant to and knew a bit more of traditional Mando culture than his clone brothers) tells them only the person who gave Fox the title can remove it

And so the Vod’e wait

They wait and watch as more Vod join them

Echo (which was a cheerful reunion for the Domino squad)

Hunter (who got shot protecting Omega)

Omega (who took it upon herself to off herself to prevent the Empire using her - first thing she did was punch Boba for leaving her behind before learning of his unfortunate death which still makes her mad but not as much)

Howzer

Thire (the last of the Corries to have died but he gave a hell of a fight)

Bacara and Neyo

More and more and it dwindles to only four clones left

Gregor comes first, cackling and the 212th rejoice his return

Wolffe follows and he gets his Wolffepack back

Rex is stubborn though

He clings to life like it’s all he has, searching for the last clone because he refuses to leave a brother behind

Ahsoka helps him where she can, pointing him in directions that she can vaguely feel Kix but she has her own battles

And Rex searches

And he remembers

And regrets

And says his remembrances

He always includes Fox in his remembrance because while he was young in the war, time has brought a new perspective to their life and he knows that Fox was young too

Young and under the thumb of Palpatine

And so he searches and remembers and regrets

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #clone wars #commander fox #commander cody #captain rex #clone trooper kix #being named dar’vod #afterlife

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unpretty · 5 months

Note

from Karen from HR chapter 10:

""I did have an eating disorder for a while, but she didn't even notice that. I read somewhere that most eating disorders are actually about control."

"Mm," Bruce agreed.""

from Gotham High chapter 3:

"""You should eat more real food, too," she added.

"That wasn't real food."

"You know what I mean, though," she said. He didn't respond. "I'm pretty sure you have a disorder." She said it vague and off-hand, as if she didn't actually care; she wasn't sure if she did. He was rich, and he was eating. No one got to that size without eating. He was still better off in every way than most of the people she knew. She could not rationally explain why his careful lists of calories and vitamins felt so wrong to look at, seemed so inhuman.""

the fucking. DETAILS. the stupidly wonderful way you weave character details throughout your stories make me scream. it's so good

also I wonder if he still has that eating disorder??? or at least, disordered eating habit. like, he STILL doesn't like most "junky" foods (I'm specifically thinking of Tim suggesting he try Doritos from Anti-Social chapter 7, and Selina suggesting coney dogs from Stolen moments)

but SOME foods that can be kinda gross he IS okay with and sometimes even seems to prefer (like bad Chinese and hot dogs from Third Wheel chapter 3. I would include gyros from the same chapter and Anti-Social (again) chapter 6 on this list but that shit's tasty. can you tell I've read this collection of fics too many times)

but that doesn't necessarily mean he DOESN'T still have that eating disorder. it could just mean he's gotten very good at gestimating nutritional information and keeping mental track of stuff like that

anyways. I also feel the need to mention his "my father liked to cook" mini-monologue from HR chapter 7, but I don't know how to weave it into here. it just feels important somehow. have a lovely day, I love your writing i'm far too obsessed with it

you missed a couple! >;3

backup:

"I'm not apologizing for the fact that I wanted real food," Nightwing said. He turned around in his seat to look back at Harley. "Have you seen his little protein shake things? "They're his robo-fuel!" "You know he's not a robot." "Yeah, I know that." Harley and Nightwing both looked at Batman.

earlier in stolen moments:

Tim huffed. Then he knocked on the silver-domed lid resting at the desk, covering a dish that rested on a hotplate. "Alfred left a plate." Bruce only glanced at it. "Then eat fast." "It's for you." "I'm not hungry." Tim crossed his arms. "I'm not leaving until you eat." His chin tilted upward, attempting to look implacable. She came out from underneath the desk to circle his legs, and smelled the air. Salt and fat and starch. Bruce stood straighter to look at Tim. Tim immediately faltered. "You have school in six hours," Bruce said. "Go to bed." "... promise you'll eat?" She wound around his legs. "You're aware that I'm the adult here." "Are you going to eat?" "Yes. Bed. Now." Tim sighed. "Night, Bruce."

and there's chapter five of anti-social and probably some other bits in various places

i don't know if orthorexia is really the word for what i write bruce as having, because that's usually associated with Clean Eating and Health and No Processed Foods and that's not really what he does. what he's concerned with is Maximum Efficiency. if he were left to his own devices he would take a multivitamin and then eat mostly peanut butter out of the jar and possibly some kind of whey slurry (which is p much exactly what he's doing in chapter five). protein and calorie density are the priorities.

the foods he favors tend to be things that in his mind don't 'count', foods that made it onto his list early on and now he sticks with them. like cucumbers. or yogurt. a handful of plain kix. when you have an eating disorder and you're carefully tracking everything you develop certain habits and certain 'safe' foods, and even when you try to go back to eating intuitively you still have that list in your head. if he's going to eat Real Food he favors protein-heavy and cheap because it feels like less of a waste that way. he thinks high quality foodie stuff is a pearls before swine situation when he's the target audience for soylent.

he hasn't noticed that he thinks of cheap chinese food as special occasion food, but he does

#original #ficblogging #ednos #once he decided to Travel The World In Disguise keeping a food diary stopped being realistic #he's capable of eating normally the same way he's capable of smiling #he has practice

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