#arc trooper fives drabble

[toomanybandstocare]

Hey there Mythos!!

BIG congratulations!!! Getting to know you has been excellent!

For your celebration, my I request a Platonic Summer of Fun??

Thank you, my friend!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ - Summer of Fun

Who I would ship you with plus a little drabble. @art-of-the-twistedstitcher / @twistedstitcher27 requested a platonic summer of fun, and once I thought of Fives sitting next to you at your work bench it just clicked. Thank you for celebrating with me, an dI hope all is well! <3

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives & GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 824w + 269w

Warnings: Term of endearment (Kairtep = desperately brave of heart), Barely edited - I have been exhausted but still wanted to work on a request

Counselor Notes: I may have inserted myself a little in this with how it feels to be a creative and how we show our emotions through our work, but I hope you still enjoy <3

-> Celebration Announcement Post <- -> Celebration Masterlist <- -> Camp Resolute Masterlist <-

Lofi softly hums through your Coruscant apartment as you pad across the cool tile flooring to the kitchen. Paintbrush between your teeth, you dump out the murky paint water from your water jar and replenish it after swishing out paint residue. Warm sunbeams stream through the windows and cover your latest painting in a soft glow when you walk back to your work area in the living room. As you settle back into your seat, you steal a glance at the chronometer by your holo-tv on the opposite side of the living room. He should have been here by now. Unease creeps across the back of your neck as you force yourself to focus on your project once more.

Brush bristles scratch over the canvas. The aroma of paint brings a sense of comfort when you lean in closer to get a better look at a detail spot. Going through the repetitive motions, you feel a wash of excited nerves flow through you every time you sit down to capture a moment of your creativity. Leaning over your workstation to grab a new paint to smear on your palette, you take in your work in progress with a heavy heart. The emotions that overcame you as of late stare back at you, and a growing wave of catharsis wash over you as you're finally able to let it all out.

Lost in your own world, you don’t hear the entry door hiss open nor the careful footsteps that quietly approach you. It’s not until you smell the light scent of campfires and evergreen trees do you realize that Fives has finally arrived. Bringing your attention to reality once more, you drop your paintbrush into the water jar and turn your head. Shock shoots through you when Fives’ profile is mere inches away from your face.

Heart hammering, you lightly kick his shin. “Kriffsake, Fives. You scared me. Haven’t you ever heard of giving someone a warning when you sneak up on them?” you breathe out. Even managing to calm yourself, your skin still stings with nerves as you take in Fives’ serious expression. Following his gaze to your painting, curiosity nips at the back of your mind. What does he see when he is faced with your vulnerable work?

It feels like hours before Fives slowly leans back to stand up straight once more, but you notice how his expression only hardens the longer he looks at the canvas. Your stomach knots, and you hesitantly ask, “Everything alright? You look like you went back to the battlefield there”.

“Is this how you’re feeling? Right now?” Fives lowly questions. His voice quietly rumbles with concern as his expression softens with care as he looks at you.

Your stomach drops, and you break away from his gaze. The warm regard and ripples of worry in his eyes make you feel vulnerable. Like he’s truly seeing you for the first time. “It’s better to put my emotions somewhere rather than letting them run wild in my mind. Sometimes I have to think about what I’m trying to express in my art. Sometimes it feels like a tap was turned, and all my emotions pour out when I sit in front of a canvas or journal,” you softly explain. Shrugging your shoulder, you look up at him with a tired smile. “Even when everything feels overwhelming, there’s a sense of peace knowing that someone might come across my work and relate to it”.

Fives slowly nods and tilts his head before relaxing. Grabbing the bag of your favorite take away meal from the side table, Fives rests his other arm around your shoulders. “Think we need to do some catch then,” he softly expresses. “Feels like I may have missed something while I was gone, and I want to hear all about it if you’d like to talk about it. Or we could put on that holo-film that always makes you cry laughing,” Fives offers. His tone is lighthearted, but there’s an underlying reassurance that he’s here however you need.

Rising from your seat, you stretch your arms over your head to relieve your shoulders from the tension building. “Do you have time? We could do both,” you say with a groan of relief as you drop your arms. 

“Always have time for you, Kairtep,” Fives reminds you. Guiding the pair of you to your couch, Fives attentively listens to your life updates as he sets up the take away food on the coffee table while you look for the film.

Coruscant glows from the skyscrapers’ illumination as the two of you share stories, laughter, and solemn moments of silence. As the night grows later, you find yourself able to relax more than you did just a minute ago. Even though it can be difficult navigating life with so many unknowns thrown at you, you find comfort that Fives will always be there every step of the way.

You’re an extremely creative and passionate person who channels their emotions into their work. Every interaction you have and every piece of art that you create is filled with love.

Everyone would think that you and Fives would be complete opposites, but the two of you complement each other very well. He finds that he’s able to channel his emotions into his athletics. If he’s full of energy, you can always find him rounding up a group of brothers for a game of soccer. When his body and mind ache from the latest mission, Fives goes to the local yoga studio to stretch and take time to himself. The two of you just channel your emotional energies through different outlets, but it’s a shared understanding between the pair of you.

Fives is so intrigued by how you’re able to capture such human experience in writing and artwork that he often asks to join you while you work on your latest project. Ever respectful of your space and work style, he sits near you and rests his head on your workbench to watch you continue your latest project.

He’s an extremely emotionally intelligent person. The minute that he picks up on a change in your mood, Fives keeps a careful eye on you. He never asks what’s going on right away to see if he can figure out how to help you first, but Fives won’t waste too much time where your wellbeing and happiness is concerned. If he can’t figure it out quick enough, he will check in on you and ask what he can do to support you.

[ariadnes-red-thread]

I cantttt. Why am I so in love with him?? The teasing, the sweetness, the way he stacked the odds, the sexy little tease of a kiss at the end 😩🫠 I want to eat this fic up with a spoon and sprinkles ❤️

I love your writing and thots 🥵

One bed trope or needing to fake date on a mission with Din, Boba or any clone and reader? Spicy or not but maybe enemies to lovers? 🥺

If you’ve already written similar, please let me know I neeeeeed to check it out!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Bby thank you so much 🥺💙 it means a lot to me when people compliment my work and my writing. It truly goes a long way.

Be sure to check out my masterlist in my bio for all the work I’ve written !!! I’m going to write a clone bby I’ve surprisingly never written for before 😉

“I cannot believe there was only one bed left.” You huffed in annoyance, laying on the last makeshift cot on the far side of base camp. You weren’t originally supposed to be on this mission so it was technically on you. It wasn’t Kix’s fault that Skywalker demanded he tend to an off the book injury he had caused himself.

You were the only available medic for the scout squad made up of Jesse, Tup and, the bane of your existence, Fives. The devilishly handsome, boisterous and extraverted arc trooper of the bunch.

“C’mon, gorgeous…I’m not that bad of a bunk mate.” Fives argued from the other side of the stack of pillows wedged between you to make a sizable enough division.

“Of the three of you, you are the loudest one, Fives. So help me…if you snore for even 5 seconds, I’m suffocating you with these pillows.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your portion of the blankets over your side.

Fives laughed from right beside you and slowly crept his foot over to kick your calf muscle. “Oh please, you’re the one taking all the blankets. You’re lucky you make me laugh so much or I’d be mad at you.”

You sighed and shoved a pillow down on top of him starting an avalanche of shitty republic supplied sleeping materials on top of him. “Warm enough, now, Fives?” You giggled.

“Nope.” He declared muffled beneath all the layers. “This planet gets cold at night, you know. Protocol is that we sleep close together to share body heat under the standard issue shit we’re given.”

Unfortunately for myself, he was right. That was technically the right thing to do in a situation like this. But doing so would be very uhm- compromising for you. Because despite your best efforts and medic’s intuition and logic, you were unfathomably attracted to the clever fucking arc trooper.

And not knowing what it was about him that made you want him so bad made you unreasonably angry. Maybe it was that focused, driven, raw talent of his. His ability to motivate anyone. The strength of his compassion for other lifeforms and for his work. His happy go lucky, constantly joking attitude despite the world of pain and struggle they endured everyday. He was just perfect. And you hated it.

He was naturally good at everything. And you weren’t. You worked twice as hard as everyone and still you struggled. You were a gifted medic, probably the best available behind their brother, but only because you’d worked yourself to the bone to get there. He was everything you wished you could be naturally and he didn’t even know it. Didn’t know the power he had or how it effected you. He was painfully oblivious.

He flirted with everyone and everything. Everyone was gorgeous to him and he made it a point of telling them so. But because you knew him so well, whenever he called you that it just didn’t feel special or unique to you. You had a hard time believing he meant it for you. Even as badly as you wished he did.

But it was cold. You didn’t want either of you to freeze. You groaned, “fine. come here.” You shifted the pillows and felt him scoot in behind you. He was warm. Firm and strong in all the right ways. The scent of him made your eyes cross. It was intoxicating just like everything else about him. The same magnetic, alluring energy he had seemed to grace every single thing about him.

“Ahhh.” He sighed in relief, “finally. Thank you. My teeth were chattering.” Which had to be a fucking lie. He seemed perfectly toasty to you. “Now if you wanted to get into bed with me…all you had to do was ask.” He joked.

“Fives!” You shouted, trying desperately to hide just how much that comment sent chills down your spine. Because if he really meant that then…well…you might have a chance. Maybe it wasn’t all in your head. “Don’t..don’t say that.”

“Say what?” He feigned ignorance, resting his head on his pillow and folding his arms across his chest.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. Not even as a joke.” You muttered, the sternness you practiced in your head coming out more like a whisper.

He sat himself up on one elbow and cocked his head at me, clearly taken aback. “Who said I was joking?”

You gulped. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening. “Fives…you always say nice things like that to everyone. You can’t always mean it.”

“Absolutely I do.” He said sounding offended. “I feel like people should be told when they look nice or have a good vibe or whatever. Is that a crime?”

You took a deep breath before finding the strength to turn around and face him so closely. “You say it to me and don’t mean it all the time.”

He scoffed, his jaw quirking as he looked up at every planet shining in the sky above you. “Cyar’ika…I especially mean it when I’m talking to you.” He raised his hand to nervously run his fingers through his hair. “I’d been wondering why it’s taken you so long to notice, actually.” He looked up at you like a sad kicked tooka and bite his lower lip, maybe for the first time realizing he was struggling to say what he really meant. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t clear.”

You blinked probably five hundred times, absorbing the shock of him revealing he did actually find you attractive. His feelings did match yours. “So…” you stuttered, trying desperately to find the right words to say. “S-so you did want to share a bed with me.” You smirked at him.

He fished around in his pocket before pulling out the straw he drew earlier that he’d very obviously broken in half. “Oh yeah. I broke this in pieces just to make sure.” He laughed, “pretty low. I know. I thought you didn’t like me so I dunno. I guess I thought this was the best way to get you to talk to me.”

The way the moonlight was bouncing across his face, the way the shadows made him seem even more brooding and intense than usual. He looked so…pretty. You just wanted to…

And before you knew it, you were leaning in and pressing your lips to his. It was slow and sweet, like you both had been wanting to enjoy it for some time. His hand cupped your cheek and he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss and letting your tongue slip inside to meet his.

You pulled away slowly, leaving him in a confused yet completely thrilled haze. “Go to sleep, Fives. We’ll talk in the morning.” You smiled like an idiot as you turned over and felt his protective arm curl around your waist to tuck you into him. After all, you did have to keep warm.

[arcsimper5]

Clone reactions to meeting Grogu:

Rex: *looks him over, visibly confused* I thought jedi couldn't have sex?

Fives: omg omg omg omg omg omg we need to keep him, he's the new 501st mascot, he can ride on my shoulders, I NEED HIM.

Echo: You're cute, which, given nature's cruelty, probably means you are dangerous. *backs away slowly*

Jesse: WHAT IN SITH HELLS IS THAT? KEEP IT AWAY FROM ME!

Kix: *eyes suspiciously*... There is no way you're older than me.

Tup: *repeats nonsense babbling back at him while sitting cross legged and doing arts and crafts*

Dogma: It's LOOKING AT ME. WHAT DO I DO?

Cody: *stares for several minutes*... Can you hold a blaster?

Waxer: *running away with him in his arms while being persued by numerous jedi* NO! CHILD IS MINE!

Boil: You're one weird looking critter... You play sabacc?

Wolffe: *holding him up to Master Plo* General, I humbly request that this be your new padawan. Yes, I know he can barely understand basic, and that he is fundamentally useless. That's why he'll fit in with us. No I'm not being harsh.

Fox: Aw, shit! HOUND! IT GOT OUT OF THE BOX AGAIN!

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

How Dominoes Fall

Couldn't help myself and drew the angstier version of my Domino Twins art that now has 100 notes (surprisingly, ilyasm 🩷) and may not have properly tagged my self-reblog asking if anyone was interested upon reflection. (Oops, my bad sorry.)

Still getting the hang of active participation in fandom spaces and building up a following of any kind after being just a lurker too nervous to share anything for so, so long.

Appreciate the traffic I'm getting thus far and ask that you're patient with me as I find my stride and my style!

Random side note; trying to go for a fresh, glowing, blaster wound look in watercolor was a fun (/s) little challenge, don't think I'm doing that again soon.

[z-socks]

Who's Older?

We all love our Domino Twin boys, but a very important question remains: who's older? TW: very brief clinical mention of fetus termination “That’s Bantha osik and you know it!” 

General Anakin Skywalker couldn’t help but sigh as he caught wind of the argument still going on. Fives and Echo had been at it since leaving Saleucami and appeared to have yet to resolve the matter. He cast a look at Rex who seemed so exhausted he almost felt bad for making him deal with it. But these were his men and they couldn’t risk a petty disagreement getting in the way of their next mission. 

“Alright, boys, what’s the problem?” Anakin asked, approaching the ARC troopers with Rex only a few steps behind him. 

“This di’kut thinks he’s older than me,” Fives accused, shoving his shoulder into Echo’s. 

“I am older than you,” Echo insisted. 

Anakin stared at them in disbelief. This is what was causing such a stir? 

Rex sighed beside him. “Not this again,” he muttered. 

The ‘again’ worried the general. If this was an ongoing issue, he’d have to put an end to it once and for all, no matter how trivial and petty it was. 

“Echo’s number is lower. I think that makes him older,” he offered. 

The three Clones stared at him. 

“Or not?” 

Rex stepped in. “Our numbers come from our growth-jar tree designation. But not all infants on a tree are decanted at the same time. Like, if a fetus is terminated, the jar is emptied and a new embryo takes its place.” 

Well that was all very informative, but not helpful in resolving the matter. Anakin crossed his arms. “Why does it matter who’s older?” 

“It’s a matter of principle. We’re twins, sir,” Fives answered. 

Anakin raised a brow. “Is that some kind of joke?” 

“No, sir,” Echo replied. “Split zygote. A rare but not impossible anomaly.”

Fives cut in, “Like Rex’s hair.”

The captain glared at them.  

“All that means is Echo here got moved to a different jar,” Fives went on. 

“Thereby making me the oldest.”

“Transfer is not decanting!” 

“I left the jar first!” 

“To go to another jar!” 

“Okay, okay, stop!” Anakin sighed, understanding Rex’s exhausted look from earlier. “Echo, Fives is right.” 

“What!?”

“Ha!” 

“If we’re going from decanting-“

“The general agrees with me!” Fives cheered, throwing an arm around Echo’s shoulders and tussling his hair. “You lose! I’m right! Ha! I won! Against you. In semantics!” 

Echo growled, shoving out of Fives’s grasp and grappling for him, the argument turning into a physical fight until Fives escaped and ran off, Echo running after him, still belaboring his point, now with rather colorful language. 

Rex rested a hand on the general’s shoulder. “Rule number one, sir. Don’t pick a winner.” 

Anakin shook his head. “It’s a dumb argument.” 

Rex offered him a small smile. “Just hope you never have twins, sir.”

[rex-meshla]

Rex-Meshla's Masterlist ✨

Shadows of the Force

Captain Rex x F!OC

A/N | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapters 5-6

Steel Meets Silk

ARC Commander Colt x F!OC

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Clone Drabbles

Commander Wolffe

Brat Summer

Testing Limits

Testing Limits —Part 2 (NSFW)

Commander Fox

An Unusual Assignment

Captain Howzer

Stolen Nights and Shared Dreams

[lonewolflupe]

Flustered Fives (Drabble)

I was chatting with my friend @welcometo79s and we were talking about Fives (surprise, surprise). We imagined him being very confident but getting all soft and flustered when you tell him something sweet or show him any form of care/connection. This drabble was inspired by that conversation, so this one's for you, Vi! <3

Summary: Fives is all confident, until you make a confession Rating: General Audiences Tags: fluff, SFW Words: 100 Pairing: Fives x gen!reader Read this drabble here on AO3

“You're being silly,” you chuckled, hitting your hand on his chest plate as he was leaning backwards casually. He replied by raising his brows into the most flirtatious frown you had seen on him.

“There is no need for that. You know I like you,” you laughed at him. As soon as he heard those words, his whole demeanour changed. “You.. you like me?” he muttered, almost lost for words, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“It wasn't obvious?” you smiled, leaning closer. “I-I-I-,” he stuttered, before you placed a kiss on his cheek, painting it an even warmer shade.

Fives taglist: @welcometo79s

[tealmisthams]

Hello there!! Okay, so for the kissing prompt…

25. A kiss that's an accident

You know me!! 😁 Fivesoka. Please!! 💙🧡

Thanks for the request! I had so much fun with this one! 😁

—

*Figured I’d mention, since this obviously takes place during TCW: Ahsoka is aged up to 18 here.

Prompt 25: A kiss that's an accident

Ahsoka quickly sucked in a breath when she caught herself sighing. She was perched on a bench along the wall of the Resolute gym, her elbow resting on her knee and her chin in her palm, as she watched Fives and Jesse spar.

Dozens of other clones were dispersed across the gym floor, engaged in their own sparring matches, but for some reason she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the one closest to her. That definitely had nothing to do with why she chose to sit in this particular spot during her break.

It wasn’t even the match that captured her attention, though; it was Fives. She didn’t know why. All of the clones looked the same, in theory, right? She knew that was a lie though.

Fives looked different to her, and not just because of his goatee and tattoo. He moved different, smiled different, and even sounded different. And for some reason his brown eyes were the only ones that could make her heart skip with a single glance.

She nearly jumped as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the round. Now everyone would rotate partners and Ahsoka would rejoin the sparring matches, so others could take a breather.

She quickly scanned the room, searching for a partner and forcing herself to look anywhere but at the one person who had the ability to steal her focus. But then he appeared beside her.

“Want to join me for this round, Commander?” Fives asked, flashing her a grin that was so handsome, surely he must be breaking some kind of rule.

“Why not? If you’re feeling so confident.” She smirked at him, somehow managing to prevent her rush of nerves from showing in her voice or on her face.

They found an open space amongst the other clones and waited for the buzzer to begin the round.

“Hey, Commander,” Echo called, from a few feet away, where he was facing Hardcase. “Do me a favor and knock him down a peg.”

“Sure thing!” Ahsoka gave him a small salute at the same time Fives snapped, “Shut up, Echo!”

Echo simply rolled his eyes at his twin, then turned back to Hardcase as the buzzer sounded.

Ahsoka and Fives touched fists, and began circling each other. She’d sparred him several times before and had always emerged victorious, but she hadn’t fought him yet since he returned from ARC training.

She could already see a difference in his stance, and in the way his eyes carefully tracked the movements of her elbows and knees. Ahsoka decided it’d be best not to allow him to make the first move.

She shot forward, faking a kick to his ribcage, so she could slip to the side and prepare for a takedown. Only, when she sidestepped and turned to make her next move, Fives wasn’t there anymore. She barely had time to think before there was an arm around her waist and she felt herself being flipped towards the floor.

Then Fives was on top of her, pinning her wrists beside her head. Ahsoka wanted to be annoyed that she’d lost, but all she could think about was how impressed she was by his new skills. Not to mention the feeling of his breath on her lek as he leaned over her.

“ARC training made a big difference, huh?” she said after a moment, praying that he wouldn’t notice her skin changing color as heat swept through her.

She expected him to gloat a bit; he usually did when he was victorious.

For some reason, though, all he said was, “Guess so.” To her surprise, he look as stunned as she felt.

Then Fives seemed to realize that he was still lying on top of her and quickly released her. He rose to his feet and offered her his hand.

Ahsoka took it and let him help her up. Somehow—she wasn’t sure if she stepped too far or if he pulled her in—she ended up standing so close to him that their chests were touching and their noses brushed.

This had to be an accident. Ahsoka felt herself flushing even more and she lifted her foot to step away from him.

Before she could move, though, Echo materialized behind Fives and bumped him in the back.

Fives’ brown eyes widened as he tipped forward and his lips landed on Ahsoka’s. It felt like a static shock when their lips touched and they simultaneously jumped back from each other.

Fives spun to glare at his twin, but Echo only shrugged and flashed a smug grin.

“Oops,” he said insincerely, before striding away.

Ahsoka felt like her lekku were on fire and, while Fives was facing his twin, she took the opportunity to dart out of the gym.

—

Okay, so maybe that kiss was more of an “accident.” 😆 Anyway, I was tempted to continue, but I decided to stop there because this was getting a bit long for a drabble.

[lbibliophile-sw]

Missing you at my side

Also on AO3 @whumptober-archive - day 10: "you said you'd never leave" @clonefandomevents - Haunted Clones week - day 3: marching far away (but still beside me) @clonefandomevents - 501 Bingo: facing fears

When Fives looks over his shoulder and finds the space empty, he hurts twice.

First, because Echo is gone. A split-second wrong decision, a ruined helmet on blackened ground, and only one Domino returned from the mission.

Second, because Echo is gone. Brothers never truly leave — a whispered warning of danger in your ear, a comforting hand in the dark. Yet Fives is alone.

When Fives dies, looks over his shoulder and finds the space filled, he hurts three times:

Echo was gone. And Echo did not return. Because Echo is alive...

Meaning Fives is the one who abandoned him.

[elismor]

Recent Fic Omnibus

I'm so close to 100 drabbles...I can taste it!

Starting Line 3rd 52 Pickup Prompt, written for @cacodaemonia. The one where Flood and Waxer meet.

Great Expectations bite sized spice for @catbuir The one where Rex and Gregor have some fun (drabble)

Out of the Blue A kiss prompt collaboration with @cacodaemonia The one where Waxer and Boil kiss in public (triple drabble)

Vode An 4th 52 Pickup Prompt, written for @seascribbling The one with Fives, Hardcase, and a tubie (3 drabbles)

A Complex Finish A kiss prompt drabble for @catbuir. The one where Cody kisses Wooley.

Home Remedy And another kiss prompt drabble for @cacodaemonia. The one where Numa makes it better.

[sev-on-kamino]

30 Days of Blossoming Romance (5)

Day 5: Admiring them from afar (prompt list here)

Fives x afab!reader

warnings: none unless you count the dangerous levels of dehydration from being so darn thirsty for Fives 😅

Author’s note: I didn’t even bother with the random generator because it’s day 5, and there’s no way I could resist writing about Fives. I’m weak, ok? Might fuck around and do a part 2 for when they leave the bar 👀

Word count: 903

You had played it cool for as long as possible because Fives was cool. Effortlessly so. But playing it cool had grown difficult the more you let your feelings for him take root. You didn’t want to be aloof or vague. You didn’t want the chase. You wanted to be with him, wanted to be his.

So you’d made your move, laid your cards on the table. Games were fun, but you were done playing. Fives had grown quite serious with you, and for the first time you saw the strength and conviction of an ARC trooper shining through. He didn’t want to play either. He didn’t want there to be a question about where his head was, or where his heart was. Both were hopelessly focused on you.

You sipped your drink, tucked into your booth at 79’s with the other nat born medics and officers, who had ventured out to blow off steam. There was a debate going on between your friends about which trooper was the most attractive. Normally, you’d be in the middle of that conversation, but why debate when the obvious winner, himself, was at the bar, ordering a round for his table?

“Paging Dr. Daydreamer!” One of your friends said waving a hand in front of your face.

“What? What’d I miss?” You asked tearing your eyes away from Fives.

“We were asking who you think is hotter between Commander Cody and Commander Wolffe?”

“Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it. Wolffe’s kinda intimidating,” You said, taking another sip of your drink.

“Ah, and by intimidating you mean he’s not Fives.” It wasn’t a question. That was the flaw in every man. Clone or not.

A chorus of ‘oohs’ raced around the table. Your friends were well aware of your feelings for the ARC trooper, and couldn’t resist teasing you just a little.

“Oh hush!” you fussed, turning to look at Fives as he passed out shots to his brothers. “It’s not my fault. I mean look at him.”

Your friends followed your gaze, and softened a bit. They liked seeing you so smitten, and Fives was easily one of the best troopers to work with.

“And think about it,” you continued, “he’s as kind as he is gorgeous. He just ticks all the boxes and then some.”

You smiled as you watched him, holding court and telling some elaborate story. The way his eyes sparkled, as he gesticulated wildly, no doubt describing a fireball of some sort was captivating. And that damn smile. He could light up any room he walked into with that heart stealing grin of his.

“I can’t believe you’re actually sitting with us, and not draped over him right now,” one of your fellow medics teased.

“I don’t get to see you guys that often anymore,” you said turning to face them, before adding with a cheeky grin, “And I’ll be leaving with him.”

“There it is!” one of the communications officers cheered, downing the rest of their drink.

You looked over to his table one more time, happy to see him laughing and having fun. He looked up and met your eyes, a softer smile. Just for you.

***

Fives was a flirt. This was a known fact just like stars being hot, and space being cold. He didn’t have to turn the charm on, because it was baked right into his personality. With you though, it was so much more than that.

He’d been drawn to you the first time you’d patched him up, mid firefight, eyes bright, gentle yet confident. An actual angel, dodging blaster fire like it was nothing. After that, he’d made every excuse in the galaxy to see you, hoping to charm you into his arms.

The ARC trooper had whipped out his best lines, and your reactions only encouraged him. Your shy giggles when he’d call you beautiful, the vulnerability in your eyes when you had to look up at him because he was so close, and the way you said his name like he was a God. He was so weak for you. He wanted you to be his in every way.

So when you’d made the first move. Laid your feelings bare for him, he’d felt the weight of what was possible with you settling comfortingly around his shoulders. You were trusting him with your precious heart, and he’d be damned if he made you regret it. Finally he could look at you, and know you were his.

And look at you he did. All the time. Every chance he got. Even now, despite the fact that you’d both agreed to meet up at the end of the night, he kept stealing glances at your table. You were stunning as always, wearing a white crop top, and a blue mini skirt. Always sporting his colors.

You were so gorgeous when you laughed, sipping at your drink with a happy little shake of your shoulders. How could he resist?

Mine, all mine, he thought before one of the troopers commanded his attention and requested he tell the story of his latest brush with death. He could give his brothers his attention for now. They deserved it too of course. He’d have all night to focus on you after all.

He snuck in one more look pleased to find you were giving him your attention. He smiled softly, feeling like the luckiest man in the galaxy.

[dahscribbler]

Nocabra naming

So here's a little snippet into what goes down when clones are encouraged to name their animal companions.

-------------------

Once the nocabras are settled into their stables, Keogh encourages the troopers to think about choosing a name for them. Some suggestions are fitting and meaningful. A big draft type called Beskar. An all-rounder dubbed Scout. Jaig for the noca that had markings similar to those worn by Captains Rex and Fordo.

Many however, were not so meaningful.

“What do you mean “Danger Noodle” is a stupid name?” Scorch gripes at Fixer. “He’s dangerous, and he’s a noodle!”

-------

“Hey Thorn, I have the perfect name for yours!” Thire called out with a mischievous grin.

Thorn resigned himself to his fate with a sigh, “Let’s hear it then, Vod.”

“Thistle!” Thorn shoved his fellow commander.

-------

“I know exactly what I’m calling mine.” Boost proclaimed with a satisfied smirk.

Sinker raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”

“”Rocket”!”

Sinker looked at Boost unimpressed, “”Rocket”… Seriously?”

“Ooh! You know what you should call yours? “Hookline”!”

-------

“So Keogh,” Fives begins, “out of all you’ve trained so far, who wins for dumbest mount name?”

“Well…” they pause for a moment thinking, “I wouldn't say dumbest but there have certainly been some… “unique” names.” 

“Okay but if you had to pick the weirdest one?”

Without hesitation they answer, “I think that title would have to go to trooper Calico with “Scaly Long Chonk”.”

“Of course it would be Calico.” Papaver muttered fondly.

Keogh smiles at Pav, “Oh, you know him?”

“Unfortunately. He’s often referred to as Scales nowadays.” Papaver informs. “It turns out shouting “Scaly Long Chonk” was a bit of a mouthful in the heat of battle.”

-------

What names do you think the boys would come up with? Silly or serious. What would your OCs call their Nocabra? I'm curious. 😁

[vodika-vibes]

A New Dawn

Summary: Fives died...only it's a little more complicated than that.

Word Count: 1114

Warnings: Death, blood, technically character death but it doesn't stick

Characters: ARC Trooper Fives, F! Twi'lek reader

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-loves-starwars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: So, I have Fives brain rot and I'm going to make it everyone's problem. But I don't have a whole story in me right now, so have a drabble. Drabbly thing.

Okay. Not so much a drabble, lol.

Fives died.

He knows he died. He was shot, right through the heart. And, without his armor to protect him, he died. Hell, even with his armor to protect him, he still would have died.

It's a side effect of being shot through the heart, you see.

Anyway. Fives was shot, by his own older brother (rude much), and he was shot through the heart. Ergo. He died.

Easy.

Simple even.

This is why he finds himself absolutely befuddled when he wakes up and finds himself sitting in the Kamino morgue, with a very healed Y-Incision scar on his chest, and an even more healed blaster starburst over his heart.

First off, since when do the Kaminoans do autopsies on clones?

Second off, since when is a blaster bolt to the heart survivable?

Fives pinches his arm, that's what you're supposed to do when you're dreaming, right? At least, that's what Ahsoka said once.

Of course. This doesn't account for the fact that he's supposed to be dead.

He sits up and looks around. Yup. This is definitely a morgue. All of the dead bodies everywhere kind of make it obvious.

Of course, so far as he's aware the bodies are supposed to be on gurneys, not sprawled across the floor. And he's pretty sure that morgues are supposed to be clean and not look like a scene from a horror movie.

He wonders if he should be concerned about his lack of concern about the dead Kaminaons sprawled around the room. Fives thinks about it for a moment, and then decides that he's in shock and that is why he's not reacting.

Sounds logical, at least.

Fives swings his legs off the side of the table and then pauses. He lifts the sheet that is doing a very poor job of keeping the cold out, actually, and releases a thoughtful hum.

Naked.

Well yes, of course he's naked. It's kind of hard to do an autopsy on a dressed person. Well. He assumes. He's never actually done an autopsy before. That was more Kix's thing.

Fives looks around the room, there must be something—

Ah! There!

He hops to his feet, being careful to step around both the bodies and the pools of blood, to pull a pair of sweatpants out of a nearby closet. They're clean, which is good enough for him, so he pulls them on.

They're also a little big on him, made for an Alpha class vod'e probably. Whatever, beggers can't be choosers and he is not running around naked.

He'll catch a cold.

Fives grabs a sweatshirt as well and is about to pull it on when the door to the morgue slams open. He jumps and whips around. He doesn't have a weapon outside of the sweatshirt, but he can make that work.

The person on the other side of the door let's out a startled shout when she sees him, and she flings a ball of flimsy across the room. It hits Fives in the chest and bounces, uselessly, to the floor.

Fives stares at the paper for a moment, and then he looks at the woman. She's a twi'lek, short and curvy, and she's wearing what looks like scrounged spacer armor.

"Who are you!" She demands as she points at him accusingly.

"I live here, who are you?"

The woman pauses, "You live in the morgue?"

Fives pauses as well, "Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Do you?" The woman's gaze drifts to his chest and she releases a noise that sounds a lot like that tooka kitten that Tup once tried to smuggle onto the Resolute, "Did someone try to autopsy you!?" She sounds horrified.

Which, Fives thinks, is probably an appropriate response.

"No."

"...but...the scars..."

"They didn't try, so far as I can tell. They succeeded."

"Uh..."

"I was dead. Shot right through the heart."

"Cool. Cool. Cool cool cool." She says quickly, "So, like, you're a zombie."

Fives tilts his head to consider the comment, "Well, I was dead and now I'm not, so I suppose, following the technical definition, yes. I am."

"That's...cool."

He finally pulls the sweatshirt on, it's really cold in here actually. "I don't feel like eating your brains though, so no need to worry about that."

"That's awesome." She hasn't taken her eyes off of him, "So, uh, did you do...this?" She asks as she gestures vaguely towards the bodies.

"...they were dead when I woke up."

"So, there's something else here slaughtering people and it's not the actual zombie?"

"So it would appear."

"That's super."

Fives hums noncommittally, "If you bring me to the Jedi, I'll help you escape." He offers, it's a good offer. He's a very talented soldier, in his opinion.

The little twi'lek blinks at him, "Uh...the Jedi are dead. Like. Super dead."

"Ah. Palpatine."

"You are very well versed in the horrors of the galaxy for a zombie." She notes.

"Well, I was killed because I learned Palpatine was going to kill the Jedi."

"Oh. That sucks. It's a shame you weren't able to tell anyone." She offers, before she jumps at a loud crash from the hallway, "Oh. Right."

"What was that?"

"It...might have been an assassin droid."

"Why are assassin droids after you?"

"What?! They're not! Why would you ask me that? What are you, a cop?"

"That wasn't suspicious at all."

"Shush. You're going to get me caught Zombie!"

"My name is Fives."

"That's a number."

"It's a name and it's mine."

She squints at him, and he stares right back at her, and then he jumps when she claps suddenly, "Help me not die and find the stupid thing that I'm looking for here, and I...will take you with me Zombie Fives."

"...To do what?"

"uh..."

"Counteroffer," Fives offers as he leans in and grins sharply, "I save your life, and then you help me murder Palpatine."

Her lower lip juts out childishly, "Counter-counteroffer. You save my life, and I help you meet people who are also trying to kill Palpatine, and then you help me save my family from slavery."

Fives leans back, "Counter-counter-counteroffer. I save your life, you help me kill Palpatine, I help you save your family from slavery, and then you help me save my family from slavery."

"Deal!"

"Deal." He stretches, "Give me your blaster and get behind the desk." He grins when she tosses her blaster at him and then jumps behind the desk, just as the door starts glowing.

Fives has been having something of a bad day. His grin sharpens as the assassin droid steps into the room, "Hello misplaced aggression."

[literallyjustanerd]

Tease (Fives X Fem!Reader)

You're a student at Coruscant U. The boys of the 501st are guest speakers for a class on galactic politics. But one particular ARC trooper gets more than he bargains for when he starts checking you out...

My first time attempting anything close to smut, hope y'all enjoy! Lmk if it's good enough that you'd want a continuation ;) This also may be partially inspired by a dream i had oops

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: eye-fucking, teasing, showing off, making out, hints of both dom reader and dom Fives, suggestive ending

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI please)

Credit for the Fives divider to @freesia-writes with helmet art by @lornaka !

You have to stifle a yawn as you settle into your desk, stretching out heavy limbs. Your last lecture after a long day of classes. Galactic Relations and Conflict wasn’t really relevant to your major- you’d picked the elective on a whim, but it had proven to be your most interesting class this semester by far. Today promised to be no different: your lecturer had pulled some strings and arranged for some pretty interesting guest speakers.

You hear them before you see them: boisterous laughter echoing down the hallways. Then, the boys in blue file through the door. The one in front corrals the others into order as they come to stand at attention at the back of the hall. Five in total- two ARC troopers, two lieutenants and their Commanding Officer. Armour proudly polished where it isn’t scuffed or dented, painted helmets slung under their arms. Two things hit you in quick succession as your eyes cross the five identical faces. One: these clones are nothing like the carbon copies you’ve seen on your holoscreen. As alike as they look under their haircuts and tattoos, they’re individuals, plain as day, from how they style themselves to the way they stand and speak. Two: one of them is looking your way.

There’s a cool confidence in his demeanour, an effortless assurance to his movements, and he’s not at all embarrassed to be caught looking: though he’s still in conversation with the others, his eyes don’t waver from yours for a moment. It gives you ample time to take in the view, and what a view it is. The angle of his brow highlights the tattoo at his temple, and from there you follow the sharp cut of his jaw down to the well-kept goatee at his chin, up to the inviting curve of his mouth. Solid, square shoulders shift when he laughs at something another clone says. There’s a stray curl falling over his forehead you want to tangle in your fingers. You fight the urge to bite your lip as your eyes venture lower, sweeping down a broad, thick chest to his deliberately cocked hip. You force yourself to look away. Can’t be caught ogling the trooper, like the self-proclaimed “bucket fuckers” you see on your social media feed, lining up at 79s every weekend. You’re not that desperate. Subconsciously, though, you realise you’ve straightened in your seat, pulled your shoulders back. You’re even toying with your hair. 

You cringe internally, chastising yourself for looking so eager. Calm down, you think, it probably doesn’t even mean anything that he’s looking. The lecture isn’t due to start for another ten minutes, and among the smattering of early students, you’re the only one in the front row. He’s just getting a look at his audience. But when you chance another look up at the ARC trooper, you find his gaze still locked onto you, even as the clone beside him continues to speak. Cockiness is a trait you usually find irritating. But much to your dismay, instead of scoffing when he arches his brow and quirks his mouth in your direction, you feel your pulse quicken and your skin heat.

He winks, and your mind is made up in an instant, caution thrown to the wind. It’s been too long since you’ve taken a break from your studies and had this kind of fun. If he wants to play the game, you’ll play. And you’re not going down without a fight.

You bring your eyes back down to your desk and pretend to be deeply focused on laying out your datapad for taking notes. Hot as blaster fire, his gaze still burns on you, but you refuse to give in. You’re no stranger to this dance, and you’ve gotten pretty good at it, even if you do say so yourself. Your lecturer enters soon after and begins the talk, introducing your guests. You get your first taste of the ARC trooper’s deep, gravelly voice when he steps forward in turn, as well as his name. Fives. It loops in your mind as you wrap your lips around it, trying it out. As Captain Rex takes the podium, you make your first move. Slowly, deliberately, you cross one leg over the other, and lean your elbows on your desk, shoulders pulled proudly back. The stars must have aligned for you this morning: you’d picked one of your lower cut shirts, and it frames your cleavage perfectly. A few carefully counted seconds later, you tilt your head away from the podium back to Fives.

Oh, yeah. You’ve got him. 

He’s looking. He’s staring. His gaze has darkened, intensified. When his eyes roam down low and creep back up, you feel it like it’s his fingers on your skin. Your body warms under the stare, liquid heat pouring over you, pooling at the top of your thighs. Not wanting to seem too self-satisfied, you allow yourself a small, restrained smirk. A twitch of your eyebrow, just to gloat. Such a small gesture, but it lights a fire in Fives’ eyes. You’re enjoying the game, but you want to stretch it out, so you leave him hanging, and go back to listening to Captain Rex, your stylus working across your datapad, dutifully taking notes like you’d been paying attention the whole time.

You don’t let up on Fives, though. As his brothers each take their turn to answer questions from the cohort, you pull out every trick up your sleeve. Mussing your hair, adjusting your top. You swear you see his upper lip twitch into a growl when you shift your legs, gliding one foot up and down your calf. He has his arms folded now, the end of a thumb jammed into his mouth, chewing on the tip in a way that makes you hungry to replace that thumb with your lips. He makes no attempt to hide his want: he’s undressing you with his eyes, and you’re quickly getting drunk on the power. The killing blow comes when Fives has to wrench his attention from you long enough to take his turn at the stand. You can see him struggling to keep his focus on the rest of the lecture hall and away from you. At first, you feign innocence, letting up the act for a few short minutes, playing nice, giving him a reprieve. And in truth, it’s not hard to actually stop and listen to his words: he speaks with confidence, cracks a few corny but endearing jokes, and answers the audience’s questions with a thoughtfulness and insight that catches you off guard. Shit, you think, swallowing down the flutter in your chest, he might have the edge on you. 

But in the end, he will get no mercy from you. The third time he gives in and glances in your direction, he finds you with your stylus poised at the corner of your mouth. Your pulse throbbing, you grind your thighs together, making a show of it. Your tongue darts out for just a moment and, soft and delicate, you press the stylus past your lips, teasing the tip. The effect is instant. Fives chokes on his last word, stifling a groan that quickly turns into a string of coughs. His eyes are blown wide, his cheeks several shades darker as he tries to regain his composure and remember what he had been saying. 

You win.

You back off for the rest of the lecture, content to enjoy the feeling of his eyes on you and the playful glances you exchange from the moment he leaves the podium. He takes your little trick in stride, and even gives back what he gets, a sway in his hips as he walks back to rejoin the other clones, taking it slow to give you ample time to enjoy the view from behind. All too quickly, though, the talk ends, and so does your fun. You shoot Fives one last wink as he and his brothers leave the hall, and he fixes you with a cutting smile that’s equal parts charming and dangerous. You gather your things and leave with the other students, with full intention of returning to your apartment to take care of the ache between your legs alone. The memory of Fives’ gaze lingers on your skin, drawing an involuntary shudder. 

The train home is going to be torture.

But you don’t make it to the station. You don’t even make it off campus. You’re rounding the corner away from the lecture hall when you hear him. He clears his throat, and your nerves thrill when you turn to see Fives leaning heavy against the wall, one hand propped on the inviting curve of his hip. The pathway he stands in is seldom-used, small and quiet, and the shadows from the towering buildings throw his face into shadow. His voice is pitched low when he speaks, thick and sweet, dripping like syrup.

“Quite a show you just put on,” he purrs, and the words go straight to your cunt. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” You give him your answer, careful to keep your voice in check while the rest of you quivers with anticipation. Fives repeats it, the sound rolling heavily off his tongue.

“Thought this gig was going to be boring,” he muses, “you certainly proved me wrong. Thought it would only be polite to return the favour. Show my… appreciation?”

The curling grin on your face is all the answer he needs: a thick hand on your waist pulls you into the alleyway, cold brick at your back and hot breath on your neck. You’re trapped in an instant, bracketed by his arms on either side. His lips hover an agonising inch from your skin, sparks of honey-sweet electricity dancing along your shoulders and down your spine.

His body is still angled away from yours, yet the tiny, twitching roll of his hips draws an answering thrust from you all the same. The lack of friction tears a tiny groan of frustration from your throat before you can stop it, and Fives’ chest rumbles with his answering chuckle. The end of your rope dangles so close. It would be so easy to just give in and let him win. Your defences weaken further when the warmth against your throat sharpens, searing breath giving way to the scorching wet heat of his lips at the top of your jaw. The dizzying thrill of finally feeling him against you is what gives you the strength to regain control. A firm hand at his cheek shifts his mouth away from your ear and onto your lips, kissing him hard and merciless. He moans when your fingers dip low to scratch teasingly through his goatee, and the sound sets your every nerve singing symphonies. In an instant you know you’d do anything to hear that sound again, to feel the high of him melting under your touch. With dwindling patience you reach out, grabbing at the belt of his armour and trying to pull him flush against you. He resists, breaking your kiss just barely and tutting against your lips.

“No need to rush, mesh’la,” he taunts, settling a warm, gloved hand on the swell of your hip. He’s firm but gentle, coaxing you back into the wall with just enough pressure to tease you. You recognise the Mando’a, though you can’t quite place its meaning. You find you don’t much care- not when Fives is kneading at your waist and mouthing at your collarbone. 

“We’ve got plenty of time Besides…” With one fluid movement, he forces your legs apart, pressing one thick thigh between your own. It's your turn to moan, trying to shift your hips, though Fives' grip keeps you maddeningly still. ”You gave me a whole lot of grief back there. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

You swallow thickly, the shifting column of your throat catching against Fives’ teeth and making you gasp. This one might be harder to win than you thought. A devilish grin slides onto your lips.

You still won’t go down without a fight.

[graylinesspam]

ok i saw you reblog that drabble listing and when i read through it all i could think of was the domino squad with 21 and 57. feel free to use or disregard at your leisure 🤸‍♀️

#21 "We should have been in bed three hours ago"

Curfew in a camp on the front lines was not something that was loosely enforced. There were guard patrols, medics on their smoke breaks, COs in strange and unpredictable places, and the worst obstacle by far, snitches.

Getting out of camp was a perilous endeavor and not for the feint of heart. Fives just so happened to be an expert at the craft. He and Echo had been sneaking places they shouldn't be since before they were shipped off of Kamino.

Natural skill, ARC training, Vere and Ahsoka's super special stealth boot camp, and a whole lot of experience had made the two of them swift and silent. Always aware of their surroundings. always three steps ahead.

Tup on the other hand...well. He was still a little green. Him coming from a rather compliant batch had robbed him of the practice needed to acquire such a skill. And while he had subtly floated the idea past Ahsoka to include Tup and a couple of others in the next boot camp, he wasn't actually looking forward to that training.

Sneaking his favorite young soldier out of the camp would be the biggest challenge Fives had faced in his short career in stealth. But it was a challenge he was ready for.

The trick was timing. The guard rotation was more or less distributed evenly amongst the men, but that was relative to how much other labor they would be doing. Those with less duties outside of the camp had more guard rotations....that meant the scouts, who rarely left outside of scouting missions or active full scale assaults, made up the bulk of the guard at any given time. And while they were wildly observant. They were also so used to the rotation that their movement patterns had become a well tuned rhythm. He needed to wait for the first half of the guard change.

Actually making their way through the camp was much more nerve racking. Tup, bless him, was like the one cadet in the bunch that just never learned how to whisper. Always just a little too loud for their own good. Too stiff too. Half of the art of stealth was looking like you belonged wherever you were. And Tup looked like he was being marched to his death.

Every sudden intake of breath and crunch of his boot grated on Fives nerves. Echo brushed the back of his hand over Fives arm in a placating gesture. They were making slow time but working their way through the camp. All that was left was to make it across the empty perimeter and to the tree line where they could melt into the shadows. They needed to wait for the guard to pass before they could make a break for it.

All three crouched low beside a stack of crates and held their breath as the guard stepped up to a cobbled together vantage point made from crates. From his position he could see everything in the vicinity except for the troopers crouched directly below.

When his boots sounded their descent all three troopers sprung into action sprinting as quietly as they could across the perimeter.

Once past the trees there was a few precious hours of freedom waiting for them. They couldn't be out for long lest they risk someone discovering empty cots, but they had time to get a drink and let loose. Fives was over joyed to get the opportunity to corrupt the shiny.

There was a very verbally acknowledged rule among the clones about not being a damn snitch. Not all of their brothers had agreed on the finer details of that agreement though. Some condoned snitching if only to other clones, as if clone COs weren't as much of a pain as any other authority could be. And some, like Jesse's no good traitor ass, acted as a professional snitches to the medics for brownie points.

But the totally agreed upon rule, so obvious no words needed to be exchanged, was that if you catch someone breaking the rules, while your also breaking the rules, you keep your mouth shut. It was a naturally occurring case of Mutually Assured Destruction.

So for the few other troopers in various shades of armor that they passed in the medium sized village just clear of the front, they nodded their visors once in acknowledgment of that sacred understanding, and proceeded to mind their own business. What ever the red armored 104ths were up to was none of Fives' business. CO or not, he was not a damn snitch.

though it may have pleased him to see their body language turn stiff when he passed. Tup had to be verbally redirected from staring however. "They are none of your concern kid, eyes forward." Echo admonished.

They were here for a drink or maybe a few. Maybe a girl if they came across one. But they were not here for any gossip.

There was more than one bar in a town this size. The one they chose had another group of soldiers in yellow already crowded around their own table towards the back. the young faces peering skeptically at the ARCs in all their regalia.

Both he and Echo stepped up to the bar, pretending not to notice the grimace the bartender threw their way before he turned to serve the man ahead of them.

Tup was staring again, at the other soldiers, and Fives hand caught him around the back of the neck, turning him away. "Mind your own, vod."

They were served however reluctantly and they found a spot leaning against the far side of the bar where Fives could frequently have his cup refilled and he could playfully tap the bottom of Tup's glass whenever he tipped it back, forcing him to drink faster or risk spilling all over himself.

They kept to themselves, laughing, drinking, and having a good timing winding down after a hard week. Echo kept an eye on the chrono, his demeanor shifting as the minutes ticked by.

"We should have been asleep three hours ago." he says by way of urging them to wrap it up.

Fives sighed heavily before downing the rest of his drink, then finishing Tup's too. The other troops had already left and as they made their way through the town they noticed fewer soldiers already. They really had very narrow windows of time to play with.

Their camp was closer than others and they took their time strolling back towards the trees. He knew in his bones when the next guard rotation would be. Even without Echo's ability to tell the time by the triangulation of the moon's shadow based on the distance from the planet and the position of the planet within it's system. Fives just knew, he could feel it in his slightly pickled bones.

They would need to hide within the trees for a few minutes before they could make a run for it back into camp. Tup leaned heavily against a tree and rubbed a hand over his face as the alcohol swished around in his head. Getting his amateur ass back into camp would be the real challenge. That and trying to keep him from looking hung over in the morning.

Eventually he'd learn to keep up with his older brothers but he wasn't there tonight.

Even Echo seemed to be lagging behind as he shifted back into the trees towards town, his visor a little too tilted.

"Hey, wha-" Echo cut him off with a hand gesture before falling back into the circle of them. He made another gesture, one usually used by the scouts, indicating that they were being followed.

Fives reached for his blaster, falling back into the shadows of the trees. Echo melted in beside him, the two of them ready to take down whatever was tracking them. Tup, even drunk and shiny, crouched in his spot and cozied up to the tree to remain as obscured as possible.

There wasn't a crunch of a leaf, or a whisper of a step, but there was something. It was almost a soft scrape. A sound like metal caressing plastoid. Fives shot a questioning look to his brother before the sound got too close.

The rhythm was more familiar than the tone. A familiar cadence. a set of steps.

The reality dawned on him just as the figure broke through the shadows. Two watery and somewhat clouded eyes locked on his where he crouched.

Blue, usually quick as lightning almost buffered in thought as she slowly blinked. The gears in her head turning a little bit slowly.

Her mouth opened to speak but she quickly glanced towards the camp and thought better of it.

Ahsoka pursed her lips in thought before taking another step and crouching down in front of him. She mimed zipping up her lips and turning a key, then offered the same hand to him.

Part of him did not want to take this deal. He wanted to know where in the hell she'd been tonight. Why she didn't look sober. How in the hell she'd gotten out of the camp unnoticed.

For the first time in his life Fives felt the urge to go and snitch to Rex. To get the baby Jedi in trouble for her reckless and rebellious behavior. Before he could risk it all though, Echo took her hand in his and shook it firmly.

He then turned to his brother and fixed him with a meaningful look.

Echo was right. They were not snitches. They couldn't be. With as much mischief as they got into, if they were found to be snitching one time, they would get sold out faster than a food cart near the Couriscant barracks. They had too much of a reputation to uphold.

That and snitching on Ahsoka would lead to nothing but misery for them by her own hands. She may have been one of their closest friends but she was not a girl to be trifled with. Against his better judgement, Fives took her clammy hand in his and shook it once, firmly.

Tup rolled forward and gagged like he was going to vomit, but Echo had him back on his heels before he could blow all the money they'd spent on his drinks.

Fives shot Ahsoka a look that screamed that they would be discussing this later, and she raised a brow and the corned of her mouth in a taunt.

If they didn't have to get ready to run across the space into the camp this minute, he might have argued more.

For now, they just had to make it back in without getting caught.

Even Tup's dead weight was nothing with Ahsoka's help. They were all in bed with time to spare before Rex came to his cot to end his shift. She was back in the General's tent before Skywalker noticed she was gone.

Fives really didn't know how to feel about this. He was not used to being a good influence. He was by his own design the bad influence older brother. He got people into trouble, but not by being a snitch, by causing trouble and getting them mixed up in the middle of it.

Getting the Commander drunk is not exactly the kind of mischief he was interested in starting, but the idea of her getting drunk without him was even less appealing.

If Ahsoka was going to get in trouble he'd rather her do it with him than do it alone.

hmmm

maybe he'd just to commit to it then, being the one that sneaks out with her for a drink. But force save him, the trouble he'd get into if they were caught.....

ughhh, this was going to be a long day.

---

@actuallybarb

hope this does it for you babe.

[mwolf0epsilon]

---THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3---

"Dogma..."

Now, one could say that Dogma was a little on the tone-deaf side of the socialization scales. The young rookie had never been all that great at figuring out what others felt about him until their opinions completely soured. But no one could deny that he was very capable of noticing when someone said his name in just the sort of way that told him there might be trouble.

In fact, he'd grown quite accustomed to his name being used as either an insult or a means to indicate displeasure at something he'd done or said. But Fives's hitched little whisper of his name was a completely foreign kind of emotion, and it gave him enough pause that he'd looked towards where the ARC had currently settled himself.

Unsurprisingly he found him where he'd left him. Going through his trunk after the older vod had been in an uproar about his pilfered sweets. Only, instead of reclaiming his stash as he'd said he'd be doing, Fives was holding onto a piece of flimsy.

Staring at it as if it had personally insulted him.

"Dogma... What the hell is this?"

A fine question! One that he honestly had no idea how to respond to, since the existence of the flimsy was one that had baffled him to no end. It and its many multiple kin. Just how did he begin to tell Fives the extent of his involvement in this affair?

"Well... It's a love letter." He responded in as nonchalant a tone as he could offer. Tried to keep the brief panic (at being called in such a strange fashion) and then subsequent confusion out of his voice entirely. He'd promised to be discrete about this matter before. He hoped Fives would understand the important of secrecy.

"I can see that. But why do you have a love letter from commander Cody addressed to general Kenobi inside your trunk?!" Fives hissed as he swung the arm holding said letter about. For a moment he feared the flimsy might be set loose and float off to only the Force knew where, only to be discovered by another equally brash and loud trooper.

"Well... That is uh. That is a very good question." Dogma conceded as he tried to figure out what to say. "I found the first one... Is what happened..."

"You found it? Or did you steal it when you took this?" Fives held up the miniature corvette ship model that he'd finished building a week ago. Dogma merely rolled his eyes at the accusation.

"It wasn't in the mail room, so no... I found it on the general's table when I went to deliver a report, way back when we were still on Coruscant...." The younger of the two huffed. "It felt unprofessional. So I took it back to commander Cody's quarters out of concern..."

Fives stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Dogma avoided making direct eye contact as he shifted his weight from one foot to the next.

"You took the love letter... Back to commander Cody... Because you thought it was unprofessional?!" The ARC trooper looked ready to drop on his knees, so absolutely devastated that he sounded. It was kind of funny to see him so worked up about something so trivial like this.

Fives had some rather strong opinions on things that often baffled Dogma to no end.

"Yes."

"Are you insane?! Do you want the commander to kill you?!"

"You're over-reacting... Besides I didn't even tell you the rest of the story...." Dogma rolled his eyes. "To put it simply: I returned the letter, fully intending to politely recommend the commander not attempt to initiate a consensual workplace relationship as it may affect both their work flows and priorities, but before I could so much as say a word... Well..."

"Well? Well what?!" Fives looked to be at the verge of exploding like an unstable droid popper. He really needed to learn how to be more patient. You'd think a trooper of his caliber would be well aware of the importance of a story's payoff.

"He saw the letter, proceeded to hit his head on the desk multiple times while cursing rather colorfully, then thanked me for finding another one of these 'di'kut'la schemes' that only Waxer could ever cook up and get the rest of the men on board with..."

"....Wait, so it's a fake?!" Fives gawked at the letter in his hand.

"Yes. As it turns out, the men of the 212th have taken upon themselves to get their general and commander together... Despite the commander being both uninterested and unwilling to partake in such relationships..." Dogma responded calmly.

"So... The commander's straight?" The ARC hummed. "Didn't take him for the sort to go for a gal you know... Just doesn't seem like the type."

"I didn't say that." Dogma frowns. "If I understood correctly, the commander is aroace... As in, he neither feels the need for a sexual or romantic relationship..."

"Oh!" Fives paused. "Ok that makes a little more sense..."

"Yes, although it seems his men have yet to understand this. And have been actively writing these letters and trying to submit them to general Kenobi." Dogma moved over towards the trunk and held up several more of the false love letters. "I am apparently quite good at finding them, and the commander has requested I do sweeps whenever the 212th and 501st work together closely. Just in case..."

Fives stared at the letter in his hand, before picking up another one. He quickly skimmed through it before his eyes went wide and his face began to heat up.

"Karking hell..."

"Yes, some of these are quite... Raunchy...." Dogma plucked both letters from the older clone's hands and put them back in his trunk. "Take your candy and never speak of this to anyone. He will have us both hunted otherwise..."

"Yeah, no. I would rather not die before 30." the ARC winced as he scooped up his stash of candy. "Man, the 212th needs a hobby... They obviously have way too much time on their hands...."

Dogma could not argue with that.