@faithwalkcreationscloneart Is So Talented. You Should See Her Pieces In Person. You Really Should. Breathtaking!

Family dinner at Clone Central.

“Please, may I have some more?”

@vodika-vibes absolutely positively nailed this one. It’s perfect. 💖

#i was scriggling - screaming and giggling # I might have to read this 10 more times today

Sugarpop

Summary: Loving Cody is easy. It is too easy, for all that he doesn’t and will never feel the same way. But, maybe you can turn your attention to someone who’s been waiting for you to see him.

Pairing: One-sided Cody x F!Reader, Pre Bly x Reader

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: Reader gets kidnapped and starved.

A/N: It was just too cold to write this morning, lol. But I've warmed up since then and I love Bly, so here it is.

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From the day you met him, you’ve loved Cody.

You love his smile, his quiet jokes, and how you feel safe when you’re with him. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he’s genuinely happy, and the way his nose scrunches when he’s disgusted.

And he’ll never feel the same way.

Oh, you don’t doubt that he’s fond of you. He’s always happy to see you, and he enjoys how you’re happy to cook for him and his brothers, though he teases you about using them as taste testers, rather than cooking for them because you want to do something nice.

He’s protective of you, and your time, and you know he’ll never allow anyone to take advantage of you, or harm you, so long as he’s around.

But he doesn’t love you.

And it’s fine.

Really.

He doesn’t have to love you. You aren’t entitled to his love just because you loved him first. You’re happy having his affection and his friendship. You are.

Sure, some nights you lay in bed and fantasize about what-if. 

What if he did love you? What if he looked at you like you look at him? What if, when you’re with him, his stomach flips and his heart clenches? What if he lays in bed and thinks about you?

Most nights, however, those thoughts turn into tears.

But, no one knows about it. The only one who knows your silent grief is your comforter, and it doesn’t tell stories.

And so, you go on day by day. Greeting Cody with bright smiles and light jokes, and when he shows up with a girlfriend, you greet her politely and make sure that she doesn’t have any food allergies, and you treat her like a friend.

Sure, maybe she doesn’t last longer than a month or, in one situation, an evening, but you’re still kind and polite.

It’s ironic, you’ve actually managed to make some friends with his exes. 

And you know Cody appreciates it. He told you, once, that he was glad that you were so welcoming to the people around you, and then he continued by telling you that you’re too nice for your own good.

You can’t help how you are as a person, and so you wave off his concerns when he brings it up. It doesn’t matter, in the long run, because he has all of his brothers looking out for you.

So, you suppose, if you want to be accurate, you have to admit that he does love you. But he loves you like a friend loves a friend, not like how a man loves a woman.

At least he’s still in your life, even if it’s not how you want. You just have to take what you can get.

But, all the same, when you’re kidnapped several months later due to your friendship with several Marshal Commanders, you know that no one will come for you.

All you can do is keep your mouth shut and pretend that you don’t know what your kidnapper is asking. You can’t do much, but you can protect them at least a little.

You’re not sure how long it’s been. There’s no way to tell what time of day it is here in the cell that has been your room since you were snatched from your apartment. 

It must have been at least a month. At this point someone must have noticed that you went missing, right?

It’s not like your kidnapper was subtle about snatching you, seeing as they kicked open the door and destroyed your apartment in the process of kidnapping you.

Of course, who would they send to save you? The Guard? The Police?

No one?

The idea of dying in a tiny cell so far from home, so far from the people you love most, makes you want to cry. But you stop yourself before you can start. You only get a single cup of water a day.

You can’t afford to waste it.

Just as you wrap your thin blanket around you, and are considering moving to the other side of the thin cot that has been your bed for who even knows how long, you think you hear the sound of blaster fire.

Your gaze flickers towards the door of your cell as the sound gets louder and louder.

And then, you hear a voice. Familiar in the way that all clone voices are familiar.

“Here! I found it!” You hear some scuffling from outside the door, and then what you assume is a curse in Mando’a. Then, finally, the door slides open and stays open.

The man on the other side of the door is wearing white armor with yellow markings. Familiar yellow markings.

“...Bly?”

“You’re a hard lady to find, Sugarpop.” You scrunch up your nose at the nickname. Yeah. It’s Bly. He’s the only person in the galaxy who calls you Sugarpop.

“It’s not like I did it intentionally.”

“I know.” He steps into the cell and with surprisingly gentle hands, he coaxes you to your feet, “How are you? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“...I’m hungry. And cold.”

“I bet you are. No shoes?”

“They took them so I couldn’t run away.”

“Fuckers. We should have killed them slower.”

He really shouldn’t sound so cheerful when saying that. But it doesn’t actually bother you.

“Bly?”

“Yeah, Sugarpop?”

“Can I go home now?”

He stills and then a slightly strangled laugh fall from him, “Well, you see…”

“Bly?”

“We’re not on Coruscant.” He says hurriedly, “We’re actually in the outer rim. You’ve been a guest of the Hutt Cartel for the better part of 6 months.”

You stare at him, “Six…?”

“Yeah, Sugarpop. Six.”

“...my job…my apartment?”

“Ah, well…the Jedi did what they could, but both your boss and your landlord decided that you were dead three months in and you lost both.”

“Oh.”

“But, it’ll work out!” Bly sets his hands on your shoulders, and you can almost see his brow furrow through his visor, “You’ve lost weight. A lot of weight.”

“Well…well…I probably needed to anyway…” You offer, feeling slightly numb.

“Bullshit, you were perfect.”

You blink at him again, “Thank you?”

“We’ll get you healthy again, and you can help out in the kitchen.” Bly offers cheerfully as he guides you out of the cell and lifts you over a pile of broken droids, “It’ll be great.”

“There are a lot of droids here,” You mumble, more to yourself, as you nudge something away with your foot.

“Yeah, looks like the Hutts are working with the Seppies.” Bly glances at you, “You know what, Sugarpop? I think I’m just going to carry you.”

“You don’t have to—”

He scoffs as he scoops you into his arms, “Have to? Please. I’d pay for the honor.”

You stare at him, even as you slide your arms around his neck so you feel more secure, “Bly?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you flirting with me? While rescuing me?”

He glances at you, “Yeah. I am.” Bly glances away, “Cody’s a blind idiot if he can’t see how you look at him.”

Your face burns, “I wasn’t trying to be transparent…”

“You weren’t Sugarpop. I just watch you a lot.” Lightly, he bumps his helmet against your forehead, “Just waiting for the day you look at me like that.”

Bly steps over a pile of something that was probably a person at one point, and you drop your head to his shoulder. As he walks, you go back through all of the conversations you remember having with Bly, and slowly you come to a realization.

“Bly, have you been flirting with me since we met?”

He laughs, “You’re just now noticing? Oh, Sugarpop, we need to give you lessons on being more observant.”

You huff and nudge him gently, “Don’t be mean. Humans are notoriously bad at detecting flirting.”

“Yeah, well…” He pauses for a moment to kick a door open, “Cody’s an idiot and I’m right here if you want to turn those pretty eyes on me.”

“Just like that?”

“Hey, I’m a patient guy. And it’s a long flight back to Coruscant.” He carefully sets you back on your feet and he lifts his helmet to rest on top of his head, “I think you’ll find that I’m a pretty charming guy.”

It’s at that very moment that you notice that his grin is slightly lopsided and that his eyes are a few shades lighter than Cody’s. And it almost feels like a betrayal when your stomach flips nervously.

“Is that your opinion?” You ask as you ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His grin widens, “Nope, lots of people have that opinion.” Something in his gaze softens, and his fingers brush your cheek, “I’m glad you’re not hurt, Sugarpop.”

A tiny smile lifts your lips, “Thank you for coming to get me, Bly.”

There’s a serious glimmer in his gaze as he takes your hand and brushes his thumb across your knuckles, “Always.”

@heidnspeak

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Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt by @freesia-writes was incredible. Intrigue, romance, The Bad Batch! So well done! A little sad that this work has been concluded, but satisfied.

Hunter Fic Master List

Want to join the tag list? Message me for a fresh Discord server invite or fill out the form here. COVER ART BY @pinkiemme!!

Family Dinner (2.5k words)

School (2.7k)

Boys at the Bar (2.2k)

A Shop Visit (2.2k)

A Heart to Heart (1.8k)

Hikes and Hurts (3.2k)

The Alignment (2.9k)

Further Developments (2.4k)

Storm on the Shore, Part 1 (2.6k)

Storm on the Shore, Part 2 (2k)

Farmer's Market (3.1k)

The Festival (3.2k)

The Gift (3.8k)

Blossoming (3.5k)

First Date (4.5k)

Foreign Contaminant (2.8k)

Graffiti (2.7k)

Beach Date (1.7k)

Montage (2.8)

Keytoll (2.6k)

Deceived (2.1k)

Departure (2.2k)

First Date, Take Two (2.7k)

Unmoored (2.2k)

Surrender and Dread (2.4k)

Confrontation (2.2k)

Reactivity (2.1k)

Party Hard and... (2.1k)

…Pay the Price (2.3k)

Wedding, Part 1 (2.8k)

Wedding, Part 2 (2.9k)

Disorientation (2.3k)

The Waterfall (3.4k)

Attack (3.4k)

Explanation (2.7k)

Clarification (2k)

Ceremony (2k)

Festival #2 (2.7k)

Finding Footing (3.3k)

Beach Date #2 (2.6k)

Cooking (2.6k)

Dancing (2.4k)

Settling (2.4k)

Full Circle (2.5k)

Fanart wish list (scenes to be drawn should they spark joy)

Enjoy a playlist with songs for each chapter

Artwork (links and credits below!!)

Hunter and Lyra on the Beach - by @amalthiaph

Hunter in the Cave - by @perfectlywingedcrusade

Family Dinner - by @nika6q

Hunter in the Kitchen - by @snotbuggle

Hunter's Butcher Shop - by @nika6q

Hunter and Lyra's dance - by @perfectlywingedcrusade

The Cave - by @the-little-moment

Hunter in a Rain Shower - by @the-little-moment

Hunter Tries Yoga - by @matookahitaki

Hunter in his Fancy Suit - by @marymunchkiin

Hunter and Lyra on a Fathier - by @ve-ti-ver

Hunter and Lyra - by @raevulsix

Tiki Bar with Luciana - by @clownbloody

Something To Be Revealed - by @clownbloody 😂

Hiking to the Waterfall - by @acryliccassetteart

It'll Be Okay - by @autistic-artistech

Looooved the casual conversational style. Whole thing had me giggling! 😃

hiii can you do a story about after a long mission, Hunter and Fem reader are about to make out but Omega interrupts and just keeps asking about what they were doing

I’ve been dreaming of this thing for a long time

HI! Thanks for the ASK!!!

Sorry this one took awhile. Been working a LOT lately.

But, here it is! Hope you like!!!

(Pinterest pic credit: Maulia)

"LITTLE INTERRUPTIONS"

HUNTER X FEM READER ASK FIC

Background: This is set after Tantiss when the remaining characters settle on Pabu. My headcannon is they take off for missions to help Rex and the Clone Rebellion. Omega stays with Auntie Phee who keeps her busy with treasure hunting and (mostly) out of danger. She gets to still be a child with fun adventures.

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Swearing, mention of male erection, implied inevitable sexual activity

“Movies over. Time for bed, Omega!” Hunter promptly popped up off the sofa, nudging her to get up. 

“Aww...I’m not tired. Can we watch a couple holoshorts? THEN I’ll go to bed.” 

“Nope, off you go.” Finally dislodging her off the edge. “Brush your teeth first.” 

“Jeez...why are you in a hurry???”  

I couldn’t help but giggle at her persistence and sass. Little smarty pants. She suspected something was up. Usually, Hunter would let her linger a bit longer after the show was over. 

Hunter and I have been seeing each other in-between missions. Him with Clone Force 99 and me with my little band of Rebel Cell “Missfits” (an unruly group of women from planets all over the galaxy). Usually, our squads worked separately and had never heard of each other until meeting on a mission planned by Rex. 

He and I hit it off right away. 

From then on, we conveniently kept running into their squad. Even when we didn’t necessarily need help. And at times when we DEFINITELY needed it. They saved our asses on quite a few missions.  

The Missfits never forgot CF99’s generosity. We saved their cute butts too. After all, we support our allies. 

Eventually I just came out and confronted Hunter. And in front of both squads. Sometimes a woman’s gotta put a man in the hot seat to see what he says. 

“Hmm...we meet AGAIN! Are YOU keeping tabs on us?” Stated it loudly while staring him down...giving my devil may care expression. 

Hunter tried to hide his amazement at my bold statement. Keeping a neutral expression. He really did. But I could see the small barely perceptible grin at the corners of his sweet mouth. 

Kriff, I like to watch him lose his composure! Letting go of the control he tries so hard to keep in check... 

Wrecker couldn’t contain himself, slapping his brother’s shoulder HARD. “He’s keeping tabs on YOU! MAHAAA!!!” 

Hunter turned three shades of red while OUR entire squad erupted in wolf whistles and cat calls. The ladies COULDN’T let THAT go without making a big deal out of it. 

Of course, Wrecker’s statement was partially true. It was no secret he, Echo and Crosshair had a thing for the ladies in our squad. 

Then things got sticky with The Empire and we had to lay low for a while. Being seen together in the same place at the same time proved too risky. Our squads parted for quite a few months. We missed our men. They missed their women. 

But I digress. Back to Movie Night... 

Little Miss Omega really had our number. She glanced from Hunter to me.  

Surely, she suspected SOMETHING, just unsure of WHAT. 

“Goodnight kiddo. We’ll plan to do something fun and stay up later another night. With or without your brother.” I reached out with my foot and playfully kicked Hunter’s leg. 

He’s giving me that hungry look he gets when I’m sassy and physical with him... 

Omega smirked “Goodnight Y/N.” 

Then off she went to brush her teefies. 

Hunter settled back on the sofa, slid up close, arm up on the back of the couch around me. He expertly turned off the lamp on the table behind us. Smooth. 

We stared deeply into each other’s eyes in the semidarkness of the holoprojector. 

“Missed you. All I thought about for months.” His smoky voice so low. So deep. So...sexy. 

“Mmm...did ya now...” 

Maker, he’s so beautiful and sweet it makes my heart ache. Gonna tear him up tonight...quietly of course...we don’t want to wake up... 

“OMEGA! Go back to bed.” Hunter, doing his best to NOT sound annoyed. Didn’t even move from his position on the sofa. Still gazing in my eyes. 

The tiny, barely perceptible shadow in the hallway turns and scurries back to bed. 

“Damn Hunter. You’ve got kid radar.” 

“Not the only thing I’ve got.” He sensually runs his hands up my arms, shoulders, neck, caresses the sides of my face... 

...we close the gap between each other. Gently touching noses, foreheads. My arms slide up his stomach, chest...finally gripping his strong shoulders...and just as our lips meet... 

“HOLY KRIFF!” I just ‘bout lept off the sofa!!! 

Omega stood 5 ft in front of us...watching... 

“Hunter...did YOU teach her to be THAT quiet???” 

“What did I TELL YOU?!” He’s trying to be patient. Trying REALLY hard. 

“I’m thirsty...” Her expression is uncertain. She’s a good kid and certainly not trying to be disobedient. 

“You know where the sink is.” He’s the kind of guy who would get the water for her.  

But he CAN’T right now. I can feel his hardness against my thigh. Hunter shoots me an uneasy expression.  

He anticipates she’ll ask to be tucked into bed next...and he CANNOT support that action right now. 

I quietly giggle. 

He slowly shakes his head at me. 

Omega bounces into the kitchen and we can hear the sink running. 

The tap turns off. 

Sounds of a tiny person drinking. 

The rest of the water gets dumped into the sink.  

Clink of the glass being set on the counter. 

She’s quickly back in front of us. 

He inhales with the anticipation of her request. 

I’m watching all of this with bated breath...ready to bust out laughing. It’s NEVER a dull moment in The Batch household. 

“Will you tuck me...?” 

“OMEGA!” She jumps out of her skin. 

Echo emerges from the darkened hallway. A serious expression on his face, and a contrast to the #1 MOM t-shirt he’s wearing with his sweatpants. 

“Leave them alone and come to bed.” His expression softens. NOBODY can stay mad at Omega. 

“But...” She’s stalling. 

“Now, young lady.” Echo raises an eyebrow and holds his hand out to her. 

Omega glances back to Hunter. 

“Go on with Echo. We’ll talk more tomorrow. I know you have questions.” 

She nods and takes Echo’s hand. Before they disappear down the hall, Echo glances over his shoulder and winks at us. 

Hunter and I wait... 

The door to Echo’s room closes. Clearly, he’s running interference for us tonight. Providing privacy. Otherwise, Omega will keep sneaking out. 

Waiting a minute more...Hunter cocks his head like a dog...listening... 

While reaching over and pressing a button on the holo-remote. Slow, sensuous Jizz music starts to play. 

Then that handsome man turns back to me with an intensity in his eyes that makes my whole-body ache.  

“Now...where were we?” 

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

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The truth ain’t always pretty.

#clones clones clones

Sweet story about a boy and his dog, Hound and Grizzer, along with Hound’s GF. 😻

Watch and Learn, City Boy, Part 2: Autumn

A/N: This is a follow-up to Part 1, which I wrote last year. The muse struck on the autumnal equinox, and who am I to reject her overture? Yes, I switched tenses, and no, I’m not sorry. Enjoy! 

Pairing: Hound x Reader (Fem)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI) 

Wordcount: 2.8K

Warnings and tags: fluff; domesticity; language; little bit of SMUT; one (1) slap on the ass; tickling; pinning; allusions to bondage; Reader is a bit of a brat; Hound is a playful switch (I don’t make the rules); this isn't as kinky as it sounds; I made up pretty much everything about Alderaanian culture, holiday observances, and spirituality for this fic, so don’t take anything here as having a basis in canon.

Summary: Autumn has come to Alderaan, and you’re stuck on kriffin’ Coruscant. But Hound won’t let that stop you from celebrating.

Suggested Listening: 

This fic smells like: Hempz Apple Cinnamon Shortbread body lotion (autumn leaves; warm spices)

Part 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Grizzer launched herself off of your mattress with a ferocious snarl before you even heard the door chime. Hound startled awake with a muffled grunt, and you sat up, rubbing your eyes groggily and fumbling for your datapad to check the security holo.

“‘S goin’ on?” he mumbled.

“Groceries,” you rasped as you crawled out of bed and slipped into a robe. “I’ll take care of it. Go back to sleep.”

Grizzer was prancing triumphantly at the front door, and she greeted you with a loud, delighted snort to let you know that she had successfully repelled the invading force and secured the perimeter.

“Good girl,” you yawned. “So brave. Gonna tell Fox to give you a medal and a promotion.”

She plopped down resolutely in front of the door and refused to budge until you had administered what she deemed to be an appropriate number of scritches between the spines on her back. At length, she shuffled out of the way so you could open the door and dart out into the hallway just long enough to retrieve your grocery delivery, silently beseeching the Force not to let your well-meaning but nosy neighbors catch you in your bathrobe. Gods knew you and Hound already gave them plenty of fodder for gossip.

Once the groceries were safely inside, Grizzer had to complete an exhaustive sniff-spection of every single bag before she would allow you to put the food away, and then she gave you a meaningful look and lumbered over to the back door. You tapped the panel and shivered at the blast of cold air that rushed in as the door hissed open. 

Grizzer sauntered out to do her business on the comically tiny patch of fake grass you’d installed on your balcony once you realized she and Hound would be staying over as many nights as they could possibly sneak away from the barracks. By the time you’d finished stashing the perishables in the conservator, she was back inside and waiting for her breakfast.

You activated the cleaning droid to deal with her mess, dumped a scoop of massiff chow in her bowl, and finally returned to the bedroom. Hound’s eyes remained stubbornly closed, but he wordlessly pulled the blankets back as you climbed into bed and snuggled your ass into the nook of his body, extending his other arm for you to use as a pillow.

Stars, he’s so warm. This is the best part of my day.

You barely had time to settle in before Grizzer hopped up onto the bed, circled a few times, then flopped against you hard enough to knock the wind out of you.

“Ugh, careful with the spikes, Grizz. Don’t you have breakfast to eat?” you muttered.

Despite your grumbles, you couldn’t resist the pleading look she shot you, and you reached down to pat her lazily as she settled her chin onto your leg with a happy sigh. Kriffin’ massiff always wants to be the littlest spoon.  

You shifted, looking for a comfortable position while being smooshed between your two favorite beings, then tucked your feet closer to Hound, trying to get warm. He flinched as he felt your icy feet against his shins, but instead of pulling away, he rested his hand on your hip and drew you more firmly against his body, then slid up your torso to cup your breast. He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your skin.

“Mornin’,” he rumbled. ”Happy equinox. I assume you've planned somethin’ festive for today?”

“Mm-hmm,” you mumbled, privately reflecting that he was using far too many words for this early on a Benduday morning. “‘S why I ordered groceries.”

He hummed his approval and began to kiss a path down your spine. “Does it involve tying me to a kitchen chair and licking a jar of honey off my skin?”

You laughed quietly and kissed the scar on his forearm that rested beneath your head. “Is that a specific fantasy you have, or are you just looking for an excuse to get me to tie you up and have my wicked way with you?”

“Two things can be true, angel.” He squeezed your breast gently, then trailed his fingertips down the centerline of your body, unerringly finding his way between your thighs. “Your feet are like kriffin’ icicles. You go on an expedition to Ilum for those groceries or somethin’?”

“Grizz was extra needy this morning,” you explained. “Mm, that feels nice. Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. His fingers slipped over your clit and into your pussy, and he shifted slightly to grind his cock against your ass. “Feel how hard you made me? Prancin’ around in that little thing you call a bathrobe. Probably gave the neighbors a coronary.”

“Nobody saw me,” you laughed, then gasped as he slid deeper. “At least I—fuck—I didn’t see anyone.”

“Grizz, off,” he ordered, to the massiff’s vocal disgust. Nevertheless, she complied, jumping off the bed with a huff of protest and wandering out of the bedroom in search of the breakfast she’d previously snubbed. “Guess we’ll find out if anyone saw you when they send a thank-you holocard. Damn, little one, you’re kriffin’ soaked. What were you dreamin’ about, dirty girl?”

It wasn’t a dream, it’s just you, you thought, but rather than inflate his already impressive ego, you wiggled your butt against his hips and replied in your most provocative tone. 

“Thorn.”

He laughed, then withdrew from between your thighs and gave you a firm little slap on the ass. You let out a shrill squeak and squirmed out of his arms just far enough to launch yourself off the mattress and tackle him, pinning him briefly and digging your fingers into his ribs to tickle him ruthlessly. 

Alas, your vengeance was short lived. After the briefest moment of being incapacitated by laughter, he managed to roll over on top of you, capturing your wrists and holding them against the pillow on either side of your head.

“Oh, you asked for it, darlin’,” he said with a wicked grin. 

The morning light caught in his eyes and illuminated them to honey gold. They danced with mischief, and you felt an odd flutter in your chest that you didn’t have enough time to examine before he pounced, and the only thing on your mind was holding on while your ARF trooper took you for the ride of your life.

When the pair of you finally stumbled out of bed, you mentally scratched off a few of the activities you’d planned, since you were running two hours behind schedule—a sacrifice you were more than willing to make, all things considered. There was still plenty of time to visit the Alderaanian shrine of the ancestors in the Federal District and make it home in time to cook dinner—a meal that you’d been planning with meticulous care for weeks, going to great lengths to source Alderaanian ingredients that were often difficult to find in the Core Worlds.

“You sure they’ll let me in?” Hound asked as he surveyed the entrance to the temple with obvious doubt in his eyes.

“They will,” you replied firmly. “They don’t turn anyone away. If you ever find yourself in trouble and need a place to lie low, they’ll give you sanctuary.”

“Even though I did absolutely depraved things to you an hour ago?” he murmured in your ear, sending tingles of awareness down your neck.

“... Maybe don’t mention that part.”

“You know, this whole sanctuary thing sounds a little illegal,” he joked.

“Who are you, the police?”

He snorted, then allowed you to lead him inside. The temple was crowded, and not a single person recognized Hound as a clone trooper, or if they did, nobody mentioned it. Hound was fascinated by the vibrant—not to say chaotic—energy inside. 

“The only temple I’ve ever been inside is the Jedi temple,” he said. “This one is really different.”

“I imagine so,” you laughed. “I’ve never been inside the Jedi Temple, but I’ve heard it’s really tranquil. This is… not that.”

He grinned in acknowledgment. “Do you come here every equinox?”

You shook your head. “I’m not really that observant most of the time. When I’m at home, we just have a family celebration. But here on Coruscant, it’s kind of nice to come to a place where I can meet other Alderaanians. For me, it’s really more about staying in touch with my culture, but a lot of people are very devout.”

When the pair of you finally made your way through the temple and to the shrine, he followed you inside and observed respectfully but with keen interest as you lit a stick of incense and left a small offering for the shrine guardian spirit. You were in and out in under a minute, and as the pair of you rejoined the thronging crowd headed toward the exit, Hound leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“That was quick.”

“No point in monopolizing it,” you replied under your breath. “Bad form when the temple is this busy.”

The temple wasn’t the only thing that was busy. Traffic was fully gridlocked, and the trip home took ages. By the time you arrived, you were both ravenous, which was deeply unfortunate, given that you’d planned a fairly elaborate dinner. Still, you were determined to make it work and salvage what was left of the equinox. 

Grizzer was beside herself when you walked through the door. She barreled into Hound with a delighted squeal, and he knelt down for their ritual greeting. She sat patiently until he was within reach and then, with a gentleness that was wholly improbable for a creature of her size, she touched her snout against his nose.

“I’m here, too, Grizz,” you teased, and if a massiff were capable of rolling its eyes, she would have. Nevertheless, she eagerly snuggled up to you, demanding her tribute of affection.

“Do I have time to take her for a quick  run before dinner?” Hound asked.

“I think so. It’ll be a refreshing change to cook without my reptile sous chef.”

“Don’t listen to her, Grizz,” Hound said, covering the massiff’s ear holes. “She’d be lost in the kitchen without you.”

“Oh, definitely,” you agreed solemnly. “What ever shall I do without constant supervision and the in-house quality assurance expert?”

Hound gave you a quick kiss and headed out, and you set to work, swallowing down a faint feeling of disappointment that so many of your plans had fallen through. Dinner would make up for it, though. Dinner would be perfect.. Within minutes, the entire flat began to fill with delicious smells. Everything was proceeding swimmingly. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

“Gods damn it!”

Your frustrated curse was the first thing Hound heard when he opened the door. Grizzer charged inside and skidded to a halt, prancing around the kitchen.

“Not now, sweetie,” you said, your tone softening a bit as you saw the massiff.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Hound asked.

“That karking shopper droid brought me decorative mini pumpkins instead of edible ones,” you groaned. “And to make matters worse, the pumpkin stems mutilated my Force-damned tomato.”

“Damn, looks like it got squashed,” he murmured.

“That is a terrible pun, and this is no laughing matter!”

“You’re right,” he said apologetically. “It’s an obvious case of assault with a deadly veggie.”

“Still not funny. Look at this carnage!”

You held up the mangled tomato, and he inspected it closely before gravely replying. “That’s a pretty gore-dy victim. Better shield Grizzer’s innocent eyes before she’s permanently scarred.”

You snorted, obstinately refusing to laugh. “I knew I should have just gone to the market myself.”

“Why don’t we go now?” he asked, giving up on his quest to distract you with the worst puns in the Core Worlds. “We can pick up some pumpkins that are actually edible, maybe have a little tour of the market district, get some fresh air?”

You glanced at the clock and sighed. “If we do that, we’ll be eating at midnight. I’ll figure something out.”

Grizzer whined at the sharpness in your tone, then curled up in the corner of your living room so she could keep an eye on you, sensing your frustration. You glared at the offending gourds for a moment, and would have bet every last credit of his nonexistent salary that you were contemplating hurling them into the abyss of the Coruscant underworld. Seeing how much the kriff-up had upset you, Hound ventured into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s really bothering you, love?” he asked. “You’re always good at coming up with contingency plans. Is this really such a big problem that it’ll ruin your equinox?”

You sighed and leaned back against him, closing your eyes. “No. Not really. It’s just… My mom always makes this for the autumn equinox. I really wanted it to be perfect, you know?”

“You miss her.”

You nodded. “I do. I miss home, too. It’s weird to celebrate an Alderaanian equinox holiday on a planet that doesn’t even have seasons. And I really wanted this to be perfect so you could have the experience even though you weren’t able to get leave to travel back home with me, and we had to cancel almost all of our plans, and now dinner is ruined, too, and I’m just so fucking tired and hungry.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He kissed the side of your head, then turned you around slowly so he could look into your eyes. His chest squeezed when he saw the beginnings of tears in your eyes, and he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe them away. “It is perfect, because I’m spendin’ it with you. No place I’d rather be in the galaxy.”

“Not even a musty old tent surrounded by wolf-cats?” you muttered rebelliously.

“As tempting as that sounds—and if I recall correctly, you were extremely tempting—no. But I’d eat rations and sleep in a musty old tent every night for the rest of my life if it meant I got to wake up next to you.” He didn’t say the words he desperately wanted to. It was too soon, and he didn’t want to scare you off. Instead, he pressed his lips to your forehead and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Kriff the pumpkins. We’ll get takeout and go for a speeder bike ride in the entertainment district.”

You gasped. “Blasphemy! How dare you insinuate that I can’t salvage this disaster? Stand aside and watch the master at work.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. 

“Hmph,” you replied haughtily, unable to quite repress the smile at the corner of your lips.

You started toward the stove, but as you took your first step, Hound caught you by your apron ties and tugged you back into his arms for a devastating kiss. He was extremely thorough, and by the time he released you, you were dizzy and breathless, and he made damn sure you couldn’t remember that mini pumpkins even existed.

“That. Was. Incredible,” Hound said as he cleaned the last few morsels from his plate. 

“Not quite as aesthetically pleasing as Mom’s,” you hedged. 

“It was rustic,” he insisted. “Homestyle. Deconstructed.”

“You really need to stop watching cooking shows on the holonet.”

“How else will I learn all the terms to describe your food to make my brothers insane with jealousy? You think clone troopers have a reason to say ‘craveable’ on a daily basis?”

“Oh, yeah? You tell Thorn all about me?” you teased.

“Easy now, darlin’,” he replied with a lazy grin. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”

“Don’t worry, I could never leave Grizzer.”

He laughed. “Lucky thing for me.”

He leaned back in his chair and stretched, then stood up and began to clear away the dishes. You groped his ass shamelessly from your seat, then wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face against his abdomen.

“Thanks for celebrating with me,” you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. “I know I kind of lost the plot there.”

He set down the plates and wrapped his arms around you. “Not the first time I’ve seen you hangry; won’t be the last.”

You laughed into his belly, then tugged his shirt up so you could kiss his warm, smooth skin. “You know, there’s one equinox tradition that we haven’t observed yet.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“It involves a kitchen chair, a pair of your binders, and a jar of honey.”

“Dank farrik, I’m in love with you.” The words slipped out, and by the time Hound realized what he’d said, it was too late to call them back.

You drew back and stared up at him with an expression of shock. “What?”

“Uh…”

Kriff.

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“The time is always right to do what is right.” MLK

Padawan Avery was a bright light in that morgue of mud. Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Aay’han.

Thank you Pina for this deeply felt story and for your brave OC. I hope to read more with her. ❤️

The First Cracks

Summary: Avery Leto, Jedi padawan and healer in training, is sent on a mission to act as field medic during The Clone Wars. What she sees will begin to shape her perspective of the war and the troopers fighting in it.

Warnings: This one’s going to hurt guys. There’s blood, there’s death, there’s Pong Krell being Pong Krell.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Yet another fic that I thought I’d reposted after my blog deletion but I found it tucked away lol. Enjoy hating Pong Krell all over again I guess 😆

She stood there in the aftermath of the battle. The brewing storm whipped her padawan braid across her face while small frigid rain drops beat against her skin. They’d won, or so she’d been told.

“Another victory in the bag!” Master Krell boasted, pushing out his chest in an impossibly arrogant fashion. Pong Krell had come in Master Yoda’s place much to everyone’s dismay.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. So many dead men. Was his victory worth this? The Republic would think so. His impeccable record was held in high regard by the Senate.

“General Krell. Commander Leto. We’ve almost finished securing the injured. We will be ready for departure soon.” Clone Commander Gree sounded exhausted. She stepped forward toward the carnage before her. She had a feeling she had to help at least one more trooper. She wasn’t sure if it was the Force or anxiety but whatever it was compelled her back to the field.

“What are you doing, Padawan Leto? We are shipping out. Get on the transport.”

She paused, squaring her shoulders and looking Krell in the eye, “Master Krell, I am making one more round to ensure all men are accounted for. As the medic assigned to you for this mission I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I didn’t.”

Krell huffed, “It’s an awful lot of fuss for some clones.”

She saw Gree flinch as Krell marched back to the transport. She placed her hand on the Commander’s arm, “If any of your brothers are still alive out there, I’ll find them.” He tilted his head toward her, a sad smile hidden by the helmet he wore.

The rain had picked up intensity forcing her to pull her cloak tightly against herself. She felt nauseous as her boots sloshed through a mud composed of dirt, rainwater, and blood. So much blood. Droids don’t bleed, this was from her men. She swept the field with the Force, hoping, praying she could save one more. A fresh faced young padawan, only 20 years of age when the war began; now one year in and she felt older than Master Yoda some days.

Her ruminations were interrupted by the beeping of a lifesigns alert. Her heart lurched. A survivor. She ran, her GAR standard issue medic bag swaying, the weight of it threatening to steal her balance in every hurried step. She ignored the gut wrenching splash of the bloody water being kicked up her legs and the sound of Krell’s voice demanding she come back. Then the screaming began. He was scared, in pain, alone, and screaming for his brothers.

She slid to a stop and fell to her knees next to the clone, “Trooper! Trooper I’m here!” She gently removed his helmet. Her heart broke at the terror in his eyes.

“It hurts! It hurts! Please help me! Help me! Oh by the Force it kriffing hurts!” He was just a shiny.

She shushed him with the gentleness of a mother he never had, “Eyes on me, eyes on me. I’m here now.” She touched him with the Force and wanted to throw up. He wasn’t going to make it. She couldn’t save him. She positioned herself perpendicular to him, gently placing his head on her lap, “I can help with the pain. Would you like that?”

“Please! Yes, please!” His sobs were agonizing. She brushed his head softly, wiping the raindrops away. She breathed and called on the Force, her hands pressed to his temples. She felt him relax and all his fear and pain dissipated.

“Are…are you an Ethereal?” He panted as the wave of relief swept over him.

She laughed, “No, just a lowly padawan and medic.”

He paused as he studied her face, “I’m not going home, am I medic?”

Her smile dropped as she looked away. She couldn’t answer him. He knew and she was too cowardly to confirm the inevitable.

“It’s okay.” He grabbed her wrist, “I’m not scared anymore. I don’t know what you did to me but I’m not scared.”

She stroked his brow, “Good. You’re not alone, trooper. I’m here. I won’t be leaving your side.”

He smiled and managed a weak laugh, “If they’d told me in training I’d be dying in the arms of a beautiful girl I would have told them they were crazy.”

“Commander Leto, General Krell has sent me to retrieve you and bring you back to the transport ship,” Commander Gree’s voice startled her as he knelt next to his brother. She hadn’t heard him approach, she’d have to work on dividing her attention on the battlefield better.

“You can tell General Krell I said he can eat bantha poodoo, Commander. I’m not leaving his side.” She even shocked herself at the harshness of her tone. It wasn’t his fault Krell was a pathetic excuse for a Jedi and an even worse general. “My apologies commander. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Gree held up his hand, “It’s alright. I understand. But I do have orders to bring you back.” She pondered all of her options. She wasn’t leaving this man to die alone. It was out of the question.

And then she had an idea, “Commander, yell at me.”

“Sir?”

“Yell at me. Demand I go back with you. Krell will hear you. I’ll give you a….gentle…force push. I promise I won’t be rough, but it will be enough for Krell to think you’ve done your job and you won’t be on the receiving end of his temper. The consequences of my actions will fall on me and me alone. I’m not leaving your brother’s side.”

The Commander removed his bucket, and Avery realized it was the first time she’d seen his face. “Thank you. And I am sorry for what I am going to say next. I don’t mean a word of it.”

She nodded, smiling softly silently acknowledging his apology. She glanced and saw Krell watching, arms crossed. Even at that distance she could see the scowl on his face. “Go ahead,” she whispered. And so he did.

Her plan worked, and before she knew it Pong Krell was standing over her screaming, “You’re wasting time you petulant child! Over some clone! There are thousands more to replace him! He won’t be remembered or missed and you’re here wasting precious time on him! Get up and walk to that transport ship or I will have my commander stun you and carry you back!”

Gree snapped his head toward Krell, shocked and horrified at the prospect that he might be forced to stun the padawan who was caring for his brother. Appalled because she was showing him the only act of kindness he’d know outside of the bond with his squad.

Krell’s words stoked a fire of rage within Avery. She knew it was wrong. Jedi should not feel rage. But she was consumed by it instantaneously. She released the trooper’s hand and gingerly lay his head on the ground before she rose to her feet. Her eyes burned and her jaw clenched as she drew her lightsaber, the teal blade reflecting through the pouring rain.

“You will have to carry my cold dead corpse to that transport ship, Master Krell. Don’t be a coward and send your Commander to do your dirty work. I’m just a padawan. I should be an easy victory for you.” She stepped to the side, swinging her saber in idle circles, a challenge to the Master she was staring down. She hoped she looked more brave than she felt.

“The Council and your Master will hear about this!” Krell’s threat rumbled just above the thunder of the storm.

“Good.” Her voice didn’t shake and for that she was grateful.

“Watch her! Don’t let her go anywhere,” Krell growled at Gree as he stormed off. Avery deactivated her saber and immediately dropped back to the ground, returning his head to her lap.

“M-miss m-m-medic, I d-don’t think I h-have ever seen anything q-q-quiet so b-brave or stupid in m-my life,” the trooper huffed a strangled laugh as he began to shake.

“You’re cold, here.” Avery removed her cloak and covered him. “What is your name, by the way?”

“T-thank you. I’m CT 43-0253.” He was shaking less with the warmth of her cloak but his voice was getting weaker.

“No, not your designation. Your name. What do your brothers call you?”

He smiled sadly, “I hadn’t picked one yet. I wanted to…wait. Until after the battle. Guess I don’t get to now. That was stupid of me.” There was a beat of silence before Avery asked, “What about ‘Aay’han’?” She didn’t hesitate, the Mando’a rolled off her tongue as if she’d been a native speaker. The trooper stared at her puzzled.

Gree spoke up, “I think that’s perfect. Have you learned any Mando’a, trooper?”

“No sir. Didn’t get the opportunity.”

“The name our medic has given you is akin to remembering and celebrating, the balance of mourning and joy.”

“Oh. But the General said…”

“Kriff him. We’ll remember you. Always.” Avery firmly interrupted him, brushing the soaked strands of hair from his brow. “Brace yourself boys, our favorite General is coming back.”

Krell looked all the more intimidating as lightning backlit his imposing frame. Avery did her best not to shirk back but he looked like he’d grown exponentially with his rage.

“See this Masters? This insubordinate brat is defying my orders!” Krell tried to sound composed but his rage seeped through his words.

She realized he was holding his portable holoprojector, the hazy blue figures of Master Windu and Master Yoda watching her. She didn’t have time to worry about that though as Aay’han began gasping painfully.

“Masters with all due respect, I am in the middle of something important. When I am done I will happily answer any questions you may have.”

“Very well padawan, but Master Yoda and I prefer to observe you.” Master Windu’s even tone crackled through the projector. Avery nodded sharply and resumed the comfort care she was providing her trooper.

“Miss,” Aay’han choked some before powering through, “what do you think it’s like? Death, I mean.”

She attempted to shield his face from the pounding rain. She felt the three Masters watching her, two curiously and one furiously. “Well, we, Jedi I mean, we believe there is no death. The body is just a vessel. When you die, you return to the Living Force. Never gone. Just…returned to where you came from.”

He chuckled, “Oh. That’s sounds…nice. I hope you’re right, returning to the Force I mean. I’m not keen on staying on Kamino forever.” He huffed another pained laugh before a groan escaped his lips. Speaking was becoming difficult for him. “Thank you. For the name. And for staying.”

“You’re welcome, Aay’han. It’s been an honor knowing you trooper and an honor guiding you back to the Force.” His eyes had already closed, his breathing was becoming labored and irregular. In a silence only broken by the pounding rain and rumbling thunder, Aay’han returned to the Force. She covered his face with her cloak before standing to turn to face the Jedi Masters in the hologram, “My job is done, Masters. I will answer any questions you have for me.”

“Enough, we have seen. To the temple, please return,” Master Yoda ordered.

“With pleasure, Master,” Krell growled and he shut off the projector. “Commander, put her in binders. When we are back on the cruiser I want her detained. I don’t want her getting any other ideas.”

“Sir! She…”

“It’s alright Commander,” Avery extended her wrists to him. “Do as your General says. I’ll be fine.”

“Sir…yes, sir.”

“That’s the first wise choice you’ve made this evening. I’ll see that you’re kicked out of the Order for this.” Krell sounded even more proud of the idea of having Avery removed than of his victory in battle.

Avery didn’t answer him. She stared straight ahead, jaw set with a facade of ambivalence barely held together by her few remaining strands of self control.

**********

The voyage back to the Jedi Temple was arduous, harrowing, and anguishingly long. Krell ensured she’d be transported like a common criminal. In her solitude she replayed the events that landed her in this situation over and over. What could she have done differently? If she’d been more skilled with Force healing could she have saved Aay’han? If she’d trained harder could she have done more? Did she even make the right choice? Should she have just left him and gone back to the transport? Is his death on her hands? The self doubt seeped through her like her favorite tea seeped through the tea bag.

Upon Master Krell’s orders, Avery was marched into the Temple in binders. He’d not even let her change her clothes. She was still heavily caked in mud and blood. Her face was dirty with streaks where her tears traversed her cheeks. She suspected he aimed to humiliate her. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Krell charged in before the Council, all bravado and indignation while Commander Gree gently guided her in behind him. The softness of his hand on her back stood in sharp contrast to the aggressive aura of Krell.

“Master Krell, don’t you think the binders are a little excessive?” Master Windu queried, a hint of agitation nipping at his question.

“I didn’t want her to try to escape. She needed to come before you and answer for what she did!” The accusation was absurd at best and she was grateful the Masters seated before her seemed to know that.

“Commander Gree, remove the binders please. I do not believe she will go anywhere,” Master Plo gently requested as he gave Avery a soft paternal nod.

“Sir, yes sir!” Gree could barely contain his joy and gave her a comforting squeeze of the hand before removing the binders.

“So Avery, what do you have to say?” Master Plo continued. His fingers were interlocked in a posture far too relaxed for the situation, in Avery’s opinion.

She studied the room. She felt a tinge of shame when she saw her own master, Tana Vytuia, sitting amongst the council members who were determining her fate.

Avery lifted her chin and did her best to appear confident in her decision. “Masters, I do not regret my actions. Nor will I ask your forgiveness. You sent me on that mission as a medic. I am training to be a healer. I could not save that trooper, but he deserved to die with dignity. Without pain and fear. In the company of someone who would guide him back to the Living Force. I would do it for any trooper under my care, without hesitation.”

The High Council sat silent for a moment. For how long Avery didn’t know. It felt like ages before anyone spoke.

“Kind and honorable, you are padawan. Strong in the Force, you are. An exceptional healer, you shall be.” Master Yoda smiled at her.

“Master?” The confusion in her voice was heavy but there was a glimmer of hope there too.

“Master Yoda is right. The Council has reviewed the hologram of your actions extensively. You displayed some of the finest qualities of a Jedi. We are proud of you, padawan. Instead of using your Force Healing to fight death, you embraced the peace to come and helped a trooper do the same. It gives us great pleasure to inform you that you have passed the final trial. You are now a Jedi Knight.” Master Windu rose to his feet and tilted his head in a slight bow. Avery stared, eyes like saucers and jaw agape in complete shock. She was convinced she was going to be thrown out, not promoted. She looked around the room at the Masters before her and all but Krell were smiling warmly at her.

It wasn’t until Gree placed a congratulatory hand on her shoulder that she spoke again, “Masters, I can honestly say this was not how I envisioned this going.”

“Neither did I,” she heard Krell grumble as he slowly slunk backward.

“However,” she continued, “I am truly grateful and honored that the Council has deemed me worthy of knighthood. I promise I will uphold the Jedi Code, and humbly request I continue my training to become a Consular and Healer.”

“We look forward to seeing the great things you will achieve. If you wait here, we will discuss your future as a general in the GAR,” Master Windu answered proudly.

A general? In the GAR? Master Windu’s words made her nauseous. She listened as Krell was offered platitudes for his successful mission and small talk was exchanged as they shuffled off to their next assignment. Soon the High Council Chamber had cleared out, leaving Avery standing with Masters Yoda, Windu, and Tana.

“Troubled, your mind is young Jedi,” Master Yoda observed her with compassion.

“Masters. I,” she paused and gathered her courage. “I must ask that you not assign troops to me.”

Master Windu studied her with an air of curiosity, “Alright, why do you not want to lead our troops?”

This was more terrifying than standing up to Krell. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful for what the Council had done, but she couldn’t be a General.

“Masters, I am a healer. I tend wounds, I provide comfort care when those wounds are fatal. I…I fix the damage done to our troops on the battlefield. I provide peace and refuge if only briefly. I can’t be the one responsible for leading them to that fate. It stands in direct contradiction to what I stand for. I humbly request you have me serve in a medical capacity. I’ll be a field medic. I’ll work in the field hospitals. I’ll rotate the hospital frigates. But I can’t be the reason the clones need healing when I am the one who is supposed to do the healing.”

Master Yoda pondered her words, his brow turned in a thoughtful expression, “A compelling argument you make, young one. Agree with you, I do.”

Master Windu smiled, “Very well. You will serve the Republic within the MedCorps.” He turned to her former master, “Now, Tana, will you take Avery to her new quarters? She should get cleaned up and rest before we give her her assignments tomorrow.” Avery dipped into a deep bow, relieved and bubbling with gratitude.

**********

“Avery, something else is on your mind. What is it?” After being her Master for well over 10 years, Avery should have expected she couldn’t hide much from Tana. The wise Jedi had become as close to a mother as possible without having actually birthed her.

Avery didn’t answer immediately, instead listening to their rhythmic footsteps in the empty hallways, wondering how she should vocalize her trepidation. “I’m…worried, Master. About the clones.”

“Worried?”

“I’ve only worked alongside them for a little bit but I’ve gotten to know many of them in that short time. They’re so loyal to a Republic they’ve never even seen. A Republic that doesn’t even consider them citizens or give them rights. They don’t even get names! They name themselves or their brothers name them!” She stopped for a moment remembering Aay’han. She’d chosen his name. He almost died without a name. The thought twisted her stomach. How many unknown troopers were there?

“I used to think the Republic was unquestionably fighting for justice in the galaxy. Now I find myself more and more concerned about the troopers fighting the war. Are we truly fighting for justice when our own soldiers are denied basic rights?”

Her former Master considered her words before answering, “I don’t have those answers for you, I’m afraid. In war things are rarely black and white. You make compelling arguments and, as always, I’m so proud of the compassion and kindness you show to all beings. Convene with the Force, it will provide you the answers you need as you need them.”

“Yes, master,” she sighed. She knew Master Vytuia was right but she wanted her answers now.

The remainder of their walk passed in silence until they arrived at Avery’s new quarters. Tana turned to Avery and hugged her. “Here we are. I am so proud of you Avery. You will continue to learn so much working with Master Vokara Che in the infirmary.”

“Thank you, Master Vytuia.” The thought of no longer being under her Master’s tutelage brought tears to her eyes.

“I think we’ve reached a point where you can just call me Tana, Avery.”

“That will take some getting used to,” Avery mused with a smile. She dipped into one final bow before she walked inside and heaved a heavy sigh. First order of business would be the shedding of her padawan braid. The second would be to climb in the refresher. Third would be meditation. In the silence of her new private room, she thought she could hear a familiar voice call to her through the Force. And so she answered, “I hear you Aay’han. I promise I will help as many of your brothers as I can.”

Ragu List: @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @multi-fan-dom-madness

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@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf because you drew that lovely art of Tana!

This is it exactly.

I need this scene permanently engrained in my head

Tech is immune to flirting, but she keeps trying! This was adorable!

#tech’s a coder not a flirter

Tech x Mechanic Reader

Summary: After the war, you reprogrammed a troop of abandoned B1 battle droids to serve with kindness—not violence. When Clone Force 99 shows up for a supply run, Tech questions your methods, and you challenge his logic.

You found them half-dead in the sand. Twenty B1 battle droids, dumped in a sun-scorched wreck outside the outpost, like bones picked clean by time and war. Most folks would've scavenged the parts, maybe sold off a few limbs if the servos were still functional.

But you? You were a little lonely, a little dangerous, and very, *very* good with code.

Rewiring them took weeks. You erased what the Separatists left behind, built your own parameters from scratch, and gave them something they'd never had before: choice.

You taught them to wave. To carry groceries. To call you "Friend" instead of "Master."

And when people flinched at the sight of battle droids strolling through town, you dipped your brush in paint. Mint green, lavender, sunflower yellow. You gave them smiley faces, heart decals, flower crowns made from leftover wire. You made them soft. Funny. Endearing.

They were still capable of violence—so were you—but they only used it when you gave the order.

Which wasn't often.

---

Clone Force 99 didn't arrive with blasters drawn, but the tension clung to them like dust. The mission was simple: a supply pickup for Cid. In and out. But this planet made Wrecker's nose wrinkle, and Echo kept his blaster low and ready.

Hunter spotted the droid first—lavender chassis, daisies painted across its plating, an old satchel slung over one shoulder as it meandered through the marketplace humming something vaguely cheerful.

"Is that... a B1?" Echo asked, narrowing his eyes.

"It appears to be carrying coolant," Tech said, scanning with his datapad. "And whistling."

Wrecker let out a low chuckle. "Guess the war *really* is over."

"Something's off," Hunter murmured. "Let's follow it."

They kept their distance as the droid turned off the main strip and waddled down a side alley, past a half-crumbling sign that read *THE FIXER'S NEST* in flickering neon.

The shop was a bunker of welded panels and salvaged Separatist tech. Outside, another B1—bright pink with a lopsided sun painted on its chest—was sweeping the doorstep and chatting to a GNK droid.

"Friend says no sand in the workshop," it explained, very seriously. "Sand gets in the gears. Sand *hurts feelings*."

The Bad Batch exchanged a look.

Hunter stepped forward and tapped twice on the doorframe.

You didn't even look up from where you were elbow-deep in a deconstructed astromech.

"You're late," you said, voice calm. "Tell Cid her coolant's in the crate by the wall. So's the power cells, bolts, and the weird candy she likes."

There was a pause.

"We didn't say we were here for Cid," Echo said slowly.

Now you looked up—smirk sharp, eyes sharper.

"Didn't have to. You've got that *'we work for someone mean, grumpy and morally grey'* vibe. Plus, you match the order details she sent me yesterday."

Wrecker moved to the crate and peeked inside. "Yep. All here."

"Of course it is," you muttered. "I run a business, not a guessing game."

Tech, meanwhile, was still staring at the droids—two were dusting the shelves with actual feather dusters, and another had just handed you a datapad while humming.

"These are B1 units," he said, voice laced with something between awe and concern. "Fully functional. Active. Painted."

You stood, wiping your hands on a rag. "I call that one Sprinkles."

"They're dangerous," he said immediately. "You realize they could revert to their original programming at any time—"

"Not mine," you cut in. "I rewrote them myself. Erased every combat subroutine. They're coded to help, protect, and be as non-threatening as a bowl of soup."

Tech stepped forward, clearly bristling. "Their hardware alone makes them capable of violence. You cannot override thousands of lines of military protocol with flower decals and whimsy."

"No," you said coolly, "but I can override them with skill, precision, and an understanding of droid psychology that clearly surpasses yours."

Hunter winced. Echo muttered something under his breath. Wrecker made the universal *oooooh, burn* face.

Tech, however, pushed up his goggles like you'd challenged him to a duel. "I would very much like to inspect your code."

You arched a brow. "What, no dinner first?"

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

You grinned. "Don't worry, Professor. I'll even let you use the comfy chair."

Sprinkles chirped and handed Tech a cup of caf with perfect comedic timing.

"Welcome, new Friend!" it said cheerfully.

Tech took the cup automatically, staring down at it like it might explode.

You leaned on the counter and gave him a slow once-over. "You gonna tell me how unsafe I am again, or are you here to learn something?"

He met your gaze, thoughtful now. Curious. "...Both."

You smiled, victorious.

---

Tech hadn't stopped talking for fifteen minutes straight.

Not that you minded. His cadence was quick, his mind quicker, and his goggles fogged slightly whenever he got excited. Which, it turned out, was often—especially when discussing battle droid memory cores, sub-routine overrides, and how you managed to build a loyalty system based on *empathy* instead of authority.

"You replaced their original fail-safe with a social dependency loop," he said, practically glowing. "That's... innovative. Risky. But brilliant."

"I try," you said, leaning against your workbench. "It helps that they trust me. Most people don't trust anything unless they can control it. Droids aren't any different."

Tech nodded slowly, examining the code you'd opened for him on your terminal. "You used a behavioral reinforcement system. Repetition and reward. This is similar to clone trooper training methodology—except applied to machines."

You gave him a sly look. "Are you comparing yourself to a B1?"

"I am acknowledging structural parallels in behavioral learning patterns," he replied, completely straight-faced.

You grinned. "That's what I said."

Tech paused, frowning slightly. "You are... amused by me."

"Observant, aren't you?" You stepped closer, brushing your shoulder against his as you leaned in to point at a line of code. "This part here—subtle failsafe. If they ever encounter an override attempt from an external signal, it loops them back to me."

He blinked, eyes darting from the screen to your face. "That is... impressively cautious."

"I've been told I'm full of surprises."

He didn't respond—just squinted closer at the screen.

You sighed, lips twitching. "Nothing? Not even a blush? Stars, you *are* all business."

Before he could answer (or continue missing your very obvious flirting), a loud crash echoed from the street outside, followed by the unmistakable hiss of a thermal disruptor and the annoyed squawk of one of your droids.

You were already moving.

Outside, a low-rent bounty hunter—tatty armor, one glowing eye, and an attitude that outpaced his ability—was holding one of your B1s at blaster point.

"Move, scrapheap, or I'll scrap you myself," he snarled.

The droid blinked. "Friend said no yelling. Friend also said no blasters unless you bring candy."

"*Candy?*"

You stepped into the street like a storm cloud in boots.

"Is there a reason you're threatening my droid, or are you just bored and stupid?"

The bounty hunter turned to you, smug. "This thing walked in front of my speeder. I don't care how shiny you paint 'em—B1s are still clanker trash. I'm just doing the galaxy a favor."

You gave a slow whistle.

Three more droids stepped out from alleyways and rooftops, all armed with repurposed but deactivated blasters—they didn't need live ammo to intimidate. One even had a frying pan.

The bounty hunter backed up a step.

You raised a hand.

"Engage," you said simply.

They moved like a synchronized swarm. Two pinned his arms while the others knocked the blaster from his hands and dismantled his boots with surgical precision. The frying pan droid stood back and provided color commentary.

"Friend says don't be mean! Friend says fix your attitude!"

The bounty hunter was on the ground and begging within seconds.

You stepped forward, crouched down, and grabbed him by the collar.

"You threaten one of mine again, and I'll let them finish what they started. You hear me?"

He nodded frantically.

"Good." You turned to your droids. "Escort him to the edge of town. Gently."

They saluted with cartoonish enthusiasm and dragged him off, half-hopping as they went.

You stood, dusted your hands, and turned back to find Tech watching with an unreadable expression.

"Well?" you said, folding your arms.

"That was... efficient," he admitted. "But highly aggressive."

You raised a brow. "They followed my orders exactly. Didn't fire a shot. Didn't kill. Didn't even insult his boots. I programmed them to protect what's mine, not wage war."

"But the capability—"

"*Exists.*" You cut in. "Just like yours does. Just like mine. The question isn't what they *can* do. It's what they *choose* to do. And what I program them to choose."

Tech looked at you then—really looked at you. A flicker of something passed behind his eyes. Understanding. Respect.

Maybe even admiration.

"They're not like the others," he said, finally.

You smirked. "Neither am I."

He hesitated, adjusting his goggles. "Would you... allow me to assist you in refining their motor skills protocols? I have a few ideas."

You leaned on the workbench again, grinning. "You wanna help me teach battle droids ballet?"

Tech blinked. "Not... precisely."

"Come on, Tech," you said, voice low and teasing. "Live a little."

He didn't answer, but he did roll up his sleeves and pull out a datapad, already scribbling new subroutine formulas with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You might not have cracked the flirtation firewall yet—but the code was definitely compiling.

Stud.