#batchposting

[slavhew]

charmed, i'm sure

[thishappenedinsmt]

flanposting (100% canon btw my dad works at ATLUS)

[aroacesetitoff]

anyways dont u think its funny how leonard was the tallest dude in the infinights until the interns

[mechahero]

//messing around style.dollz dollmakers again

[msshezza]

Nobody, Somebody, Cody (A post-Clone Wars and Bad Batch fan fic)

Title: Nobody, Somebody, Cody.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2400

Characters: Commander Cody, YOU (Reader)

Tags: CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, CC-2224 | Cody-centric, Hurt CC-2224 | Cody, Cody deserved better, Slow Burn, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-clone wars, Post-Revenge of the Sith, POV Second Person, Post-Bad BatchPost-Canon Fix-It, CC-2224 | Cody Gets A Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Season/Series 03

Summary: He told you his name was Nobody but you quickly deduced he was somebody: Cody.

For the clone X reader prompt-a-thon being run by the @cloneficgiftexchange

Prompt for Autumn: making soup

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65307979

You found him bloody, bruised, and unconscious in the alley behind the diner in which you worked. 

A victim of the local ruffians terrorizing the area. 

Evident by the fact he wore nothing but a black body glove. 

A scraggly beard and mane of unwashed hair covered most of his face that wasn’t black and blue.

How he ended up on this backwater planet wasn’t much of a mystery. 

Most clones were forced out of service after the Clone Wars ended. 

The few who weren’t either worked in administrative type roles or helped train the recruits brought in to replace them. 

Many ended up just like this man, homeless, and begging for credits. 

Which they often spent on spice or alcohol. 

Given the man reeked of stale beer, you assumed that was what he spent his last credits on. 

Numbing the pain in the only way he could. 

Temper surged at the treatment of men like him. 

A soldier who loyally served what had been a Republic until the Chancellor decreed himself Emperor. 

Ruthlessly kicked aside once he was deemed as being no longer of any use. 

Without benefits or much in the way of rights because he was viewed by many as hard merchandise instead of a sentient being. 

You set your outrage aside — not away because that was beyond your ability — and focused on him. 

Anger wouldn’t clean and bandage his wounds or help him get back on his feet. 

He was too heavy for you to carry on your own so you get help from Ta’o, the service droid who worked in the diner. 

Together, you got him to the small quarters allotted for low-income beings like you. 

He regained consciousness as you started to remove his body glove to check the injuries to his chest and abdomen. 

“Easy,” you said when he made to bolt upright. “I mean you no harm.” 

“Where’m I?” he slurred as he looked about with bloodshot eyes. “What’s this place?”

“My quarters.” 

“Why’m I here?”

“Because you were attacked in the alley behind the diner.” You go to the cabinet in your fresher and retrieved what meager medical supplies you had on hand. “My quarters were the closest place I could think to bring you to treat your injuries.” 

“Shoulda left me out there to rot.” 

“No.” You filled a bowl with water that you brought back with the medical supplies. “I couldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” His eyes closed, more a long blink than anything. “Others would’ve.”

“That’s them.” You wet a cloth and use it to dab at the cut still oozing blood by his right eye. “Not me.” 

A hiss was followed by, “Kriff, that stings.” 

“Sorry,” you said sincerely. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” The caf colored eyes that met yours were bleak. “Had worse in the war.”

The scar running along his right temple and down his cheek testified to that. 

Other scars were visible under the bruises mottling his chest and abdomen. 

Added to your anger and resentment. 

Again, you set your emotions aside and focused on the task at hand. 

“Who are you?” You asked as you continued to wash away the blood and grime. “Do you have a name you go by?” 

You didn’t bother to ask what his designation number was. 

The second he was kicked out of the GAR that number ceased to exist. 

He replied, “Nobody,” in a voice rife with pain and exhaustion. “I’m Nobody.” 

His belief he was nobody hurt worse than when you burned your palms on the hot grill. 

This man was a soldier. 

A far cry from being a nobody in your eyes. 

Yet, that’s what the Republic — and now the Empire — treated him as. 

Nobody.

A nothing. 

Clones have less worth than droids, you realized as you applied bacta gel to his cuts. 

Slaves had more rights than clones. 

Which spoke loudly to the disparity given slaves were also seen as hard merchandise.

Healing his outer injuries would be easy. 

The wounds he carried on the inside, however, would require time and patience. 

Things you could offer. 

Along with something you suspected he never had before: friendship. 

“There,” you said once finished. “That should take care of the cuts and most of those bruises.” 

He made to sit up, but you stopped him with a hand to the shoulder.

“You need to rest.” 

“I will once I…” 

“You can leave in the morning if you choose,” you said, tone firm. “For tonight, though, you need to let your body recover.” 

An objection flickered briefly in his eyes, but he nodded after a moment and settled back on your sleep couch. 

Satisfied, you covered him with a blanket before getting up to put away the medical supplies and shower. 

After you were finished, you checked on Nobody. 

He was resting but that was all he was doing. 

You resisted the urge to stroke his hair as your mother did when you were a child.

You weren’t his mother, and he wasn’t a child. 

No, he was a former soldier. 

Viewed as little more than hard merchandise by people who claimed to have the interests of the galaxy in mind. 

An expendable commodity. 

Trainable, dependable, expendable, and at the end of it all, replaceable.

…

“General, I’m sorry!” Startled you from your slumber. “I’m sorry, sir!” 

Sorry? you wondered as you blinked open gritty eyes to murky darkness and tense silence. Sorry, for what? 

There could be any number of things Nobody could be apologizing for. 

War required people to do things, dark and desperate things. 

Some in the name of service.

Others to ensure survival. 

All came with a steep price: the souls of the survivors. 

Your grandfather, a former soldier, taught you that. 

He, like Nobody, had been kicked aside once he was no longer of use by those who commissioned him into service. 

Only, his term was acknowledged in official records. 

His sacrifices honored with medals and awards. 

His existence more than a notation on history chips. 

A hoarse cry was followed by, “General Kenobi!” 

Even on this backwater planet you’ve heard of General Kenobi. 

Hailed as the Negotiator on the Holonet. 

A Jedi renowned for his daring and bravery in battle. 

Now branded a traitor. 

Hunted by bounty hunters and individuals called Inquisitors. 

Disreputable beings who aided the Emperor’s enforcer, Darth Vader in tracking down Jedi survivors and other Force-sensitive beings for nefarious purposes. 

“I’m sorry, General!” 

The wrenching grief in those words caused your heart to ache.

Nobody bled from wounds invisible to the naked eye. 

Memories no amount of alcohol could erase consumed him. 

Ghosts he couldn’t fight haunted him awake or asleep. 

You padded over to where Nobody lay sobbing amidst the tangled covers. 

“Nobody.” You sat on the edge of the sleep couch and placed a hand on his arm. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.” 

“No.” The word was barely a whisper. “I gave the order to shoot General Kenobi. I couldn’t stop myself. I was ordered to execute him and did so.” 

And look what you got in return, you told him silently. Aloud, though, you said, “You were a soldier. You had no choice but to follow orders.” 

“I wanted to disobey.” He curled himself into a ball. “The General wasn’t a traitor. The Chancellor was. He was the Sith the Jedi were seeking.” A shudder rolled through him into you. “It was him and they didn’t see it.” 

“He fooled many with his benevolent, grandfatherly facade.” 

“Because of him I turned on my General.” His bitterness stung the air. “General Kenobi is dead because I obeyed the orders of a Sith Lord.”

“General Kenobi is not dead, though.” 

“He fell on Utapau,” Nobody said. “I saw him fall.”

“Yes, but he didn’t die.” 

“He didn’t?” His head turned towards you, brow furrowed. “You’re sure?” 

“Well, there wouldn’t be a bounty on him if he was dead.” 

Shock, relief, and fear shot through those red-rimmed eyes. “He survived then.” 

“Yes.” You squeezed his arm gently. “You didn’t kill him.”

“I still turned on him, though.” 

“You were a pawn in a game you had no choice in playing.” Soft, but firm. “That makes you as much a victim as everyone else the Emperor hurt.” 

“I’m a soldier.” 

“Who was manipulated by a man seeking to get rid of his enemies just so he could name himself Emperor.” You squeezed his arm again. “You’re a victim here, Nobody.”

His mouth opened to issue the sharp denial in his gaze but snapped shut. 

Confusion creased his brow. 

Pursed his lips. 

Until you pointed it out, he never considered himself a victim. 

It was what he was, however. 

Along with the rest of the clones who served alongside him. 

“Don’t matter now.” He turned his head to the side. “Not a soldier anymore.” 

No, you silently agreed as silence fell between you. He isn’t a soldier. 

He wasn’t anything in his mind. 

A nobody.

Nothing. 

Because he was taught he was little better than hard merchandise. 

An expendable commodity. 

Trainable, dependable, expendable, and at the end of it all, replaceable.

…

“You’re Commander Cody, aren’t you?” 

Surprise tinged his voice. “How’d you figure out who I am?”

“Well, I suspected who you were based on your scar,” you admitted as you finished turning his scraggly beard into a rather attractive mustache and goatee. “Your connection to General Kenobi confirmed it, however.”

“Many served under the general,” he pointed out. “Not just me.” 

“They didn’t receive orders from the Chancellor to execute a Jedi General, though,” you said as you attacked his mop of curls. “You did because you were commander of General Kenobi’s battalion. Making you Cody.”

A soft Tt was his response. 

He didn’t refute your claim, though. 

Confirmation of his identity doesn’t change your feelings towards him. 

Nor your decision to help him overcome his demons. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, as much to test its softness as to clear out the hair you’ve snipped. You chose not to cut it short. He had no need for the regulated haircut most clones wore during the war. 

He wasn’t a soldier. 

Not anymore. 

Nobody was somebody. 

A man named Cody. 

Who was free now to not only figure out who he was but what his place in the galaxy was, as well. 

“There,” you announced as you brushed off the last clippings. “All done.”

“Don’t see why I need to clean myself up,” he groused. “Just gonna wash dishes.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta look like a bum.” You hand him the tunic and leggings you picked up while running errands before your shift. “Here, I got these for you.” 

He stared at the clothing for a moment before taking them with hands shaking harder than the trees did during one of the windstorms which frequently ravaged the planet. 

Sobriety doesn’t come quick nor easy. 

The worst was behind him, however.  

He was no longer hard merchandise. 

An expendable commodity. 

Trainable, dependable, expendable, and at the end of it all, replaceable.

…

“What’s that you’re making?” Cody stacked clean bowls on the counter next to where you worked. “It smells familiar.” 

“It’s spicy Gargon gumbo.” You added more broth to the pot and stirred. “It was served on Taungsday at a diner I apprenticed in before the end of the Clone Wars.” 

“You lived on Coruscant?” 

“I moved there after my father was asked by Senator Trewlli to serve as his aide. Something I wish he had refused as it cost him his life,” you added, with just a hint of bitterness. “He was killed by a bomb planted in the senator’s private transport right before the Galactic Senate were to vote on the creation of an Army of the Republic.” 

“It was already created,” Cody said quietly. “My brothers and I were readied for deployment before the senate voted on the creation of the GAR.” 

Another event manipulated by the man who now called himself Emperor. 

“You and your brothers are the best thing to come from this.” You nodded to a bowl of diced bits and bobs on the counter behind you. “Hand me that, please?” 

Cody wiped his hands on his apron before grabbing the bowl. “All this goes into making spicy Gargon gumbo?” 

“It’s what makes it a gumbo.” You indicated for him to pour everything into the simmering pot. “I only do one thing differently.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I don’t add Dex’s extra special spice.” 

“Extra special spice?” One dark brow arched. “What extra special spice?” 

“One that made you crave his food.” 

“No wonder General Kenobi advised we don’t eat there regularly.” 

“You wouldn’t have fit into your uniforms if you did,” you teased as you placed the lid on to let the gumbo simmer. “Dex served affordable food because he saw it was needed but it wasn’t the healthiest.” 

“The smells remind me of a gumbo General Kazzarin served us every Life Day until the end of the war.”

“River Witch Gumbo?” 

Cody blinked his eyes wide. “You’ve heard of it?” 

“Dex told me he got the idea for a gumbo from a Dathomiri witch he knew before the start of the war.”

“That’s who made River Witch Gumbo for us.” 

“A Dathmiri witch?” 

“Yes.” A hint of melancholy shadowed Cody’s face. “She wasn’t like the other Jedi.” 

“Because she was a witch?” 

“No, because she didn’t see us as an expendable commodity.” 

“Because you’re not.” 

“She treated us as members of her clan and not solely as soldiers serving under her command.” He moved back to the sink and started on the dishes leftover from the breakfast crowd. “I have no idea if she survived Order 66.” 

“Well, I recall seeing a bounty on a Jedi with the name of Kazzarin.” You turned to take a ticket from the waitress, Ulna. “Safe to say she survived since the bounty was current.” 

Much like General Kenobi’s. 

“She called us good men.”

“She’s right.” You placed a hand on his back and leaned up to place a soft kiss to his cheek. “You are a good man, Cody.” 

Not the nobody he believed himself a few months ago. 

Cody no longer viewed himself as hard merchandise. 

Nor an expendable commodity. 

Yes, he started life as a soldier. 

One who was trainable, dependable, and expendable, but you showed him he wasn’t replaceable.

[tasticturbo]

Special Blog Maintenance Patch Notes: We've been uploading based on the inaccurate timezones tumblr set for a while because we were too lazy to change them and they made us suffer but also since our daily schedule and output work different now we're just being more flexible with how weekly uploads go going forward. We believe this will improve the quality of our uploads and make them more consistent besides being easier to manage in the case a week is missed or we do something else instead since it's not a big deal. We're adjusting slowly but surely! Some remnants of how the original blog functioned are still around so we also want to get to touching things up in general.

We've been doing this for a while as well but we reblog from other blogs now sometimes we used to not do this but we don't care now

Also there's a truckload of belated events we're going to have to batchpost

Added Maintagging

Updated list

Removed rules to add special page

Applied Girl Turbo Mode to all active saves

[tealmoth]

it’s too late for me to be doing any serious batchposting but i just want to say: i haven’t gotten this teary and emotional over star wars since ROGUE FUCKING ONE. oh my god.

[the-bjd-community-confess]

TW: Sexualization of (fictional) minors discussion/CSA mentions

Mod: Batch post 2 to help people avoid the topic if needed.

1. Idc, people who don’t dress and photograph YOSDs like children are creepy af. If you’re dressing your YOSD in lingerie that’s weird as hell and gross.

~Anonymous

2. "child sex sells" what the fuck is wrong with you? shut the fuck up. touch grass. see light. no the hell it does not. can you be fucking normal for five goddamn minutes? god just delete tumblr and get the fuck away from this and all other hobbies you are the worst sort of human being and i hope you get the help you desperately need because you are seeing child abuse in everything and that, i promise you, is a freakass problem to have. why are you like this???

~Anonymous

3. did NOT want to read the vomitous take of "ch*ld s*x sells" on the doll blog today!!!

~Anonymous

4. fandoms full of """child abuse"""

hi mod it's me again, i'm sorry in advance but this fucking topic makes me actually furious and as long as the most sheltered infants on earth continue to submit brain-dead takes on this subject, i'm going to keep showing up in your dms. CW for discussion of actual abuse, hard subjects in general, etc.

(i would put the read more here) [Mod: I hope you don't mind this format instead Anon, this confession deserves its own post but I want to shield readers from the topic if possible with the batchposting 💜]

ok but that's just it, as a fucking csa survivor, most of the "fandoms full of CSA" literally! have none of that! whatsoever! in any capacity! you shitty godforsaken little heathens call sfw romance between two fictional teenagers in a tv show incest-coded, you call grown ass-adults in animated works "child-coded" and justify that as the same as goddamn ABUSE OF REAL LIFE HUMAN BEINGS, and you doxx creators and send them death threats and clog up report lines for real life actual human victims about your fictional bullshit. you are the worst and i want you and anyone who reads this and feels offended by this description to know that you are helping no one and annoying everyone.

do you know what real victims are victimized by? not fiction. not any fiction. not inanimate objects! literally write a story about fictional children being victimized for the plot, and it will not hurt me. if it hurts you, fair! stop reading it. go outside. your Personal Discomfort is not you being abused. learn the fucking difference perhaps! it will not make me... do you have any idea how hard it is to talk about this without getting so extremely goddamn personal? do you have any idea how much it sucks to have to have this discussion over and over and over? do you realize that roughly 10 years ago everyone with a braincell agreed on this point and it's only the last decade that people have been so radicalized to think that wrongthink is real? no, of course not, because most of the people who believe that fiction and reality are 1:1 in how one affects the other have no practical experience with any of the subjects upon which they have the audacity to speak.

listen. i am not going to go into my upbringing. i am not going to tell you what it was like to be raised in a household like mine where actual abuse was genuinely normalized. all i will say is that i was raised in a culture where this sort of abuse was normal and certain types of relationships between adults and minors were considered... sanctioned by the powers that be. are you picking up what i'm laying down? do not talk to me about your good intentions. the fucking argument that fictional content, drawings and toys and all that other inconsequential shit, that it's tantamount to a crime? buddy. bestie! amigo! compadre! that's the same logic that was used to make sure my upbringing was as sheltered and controlled as possible so that the "corrupting influences" of the outside world didn't give us the "wrong ideas". like i truly don't know how you did it but you've reinvented the toxic mindset i grew up hearing! and you are completely blind to it. boggles my fucking brain.

i just want to shake the people who say this shit with a straight face. "wow so violent op maybe you're the toxic one" yeah boy i'm toxic i've been in therapy for most of my life and will continue to be until i am dead. the fucking DRAWING CARTOON PORN IS INDOCTRINATING MINORS WRITING StORIES WHERE BAD THINGS HAPPEN IS THE SAME AS HARMING A REAL HUMAN crowd are just the same religious wrongthink crowd with a more recent birth-year and a rainbow hat. "anyone can say anything online i don't believe you" cool i don't give a shit. how do you want me to prove it, doxxing myself? you wanna see the fucking recordings anon? think before you speak. first time for everything.

i like this hobby. i enjoy my dumb little dolls and their stupid little faces, i enjoy the peace in changing their style and redoing their faceups, i enjoy being able to represent a diversity of appearances, identities, to make everyone queer and slutty because i'm making up for the lost time in my life where that was not on the table for me. i do Not fucking relish seeing the braindead anti arguments creeping into this hobby and shitting up another thing that myself and other survivors would like to enjoy in peace and quiet.

so let me tell you, from the bottom of my heart, even though no one who needs to hear it will bother to listen to the words of a survivor because it goes against your superiority complex against those nasty fiction enjoyers:

shut the fuck up.

sincerely, god, everyone, and especially survivors of CSA and other abuse against minors.

~Anonymous

[s2labs]

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[slavhew]

2024 redraw of a 2017 dirkus

[thishappenedinsmt]

I KEEP FORGETTING SOME POSTS IN MY BATCHPOSTING AUUUGHHH. if you start to see a bunch of little individual ones soonish it's because my dumb ass forgot to put them in :(

[aroacesetitoff]

Its a fair question i think (@drearygenie)

[grgrn-ghanghus]

batchposting

[s2-labs]

Every automation tool has its own functionality. To know more about them. Visit the link in bio. #s2labs #salesforce #certification #salesforcetraining #salesforcetrainingindia #batchpost #contentmarketing #training #salesforcedevelopment #development #salesforcecertificate #automation

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Mod: batchpost 4 for this topic

TW: Sexualization of (fictional) minors discussion

1. Yeah actually I agree with the person saying stuff about sexualized dolls should be tagged/warned for. It's really weird that this is discussed so much on websites frequented by minors ngl, admin, do better

~Anonymous

Mod: I agree with your agreement anon, I hope this format works better for most of you

2. I just want to hit all of you fuckers talking about fiction and reality being the same thing with a crowbar. I am mentally envisioning hitting you with a crowbar. Emotionally, I am hitting you with a crowbar. Physically, you are unharmed! Funny how that works. If thought crimes were real I'd Thanos snap you annoying little shits but unfortunately the world doesn't work the way you think it does. Stop shitting up every single corner of the internet with your moral crusade you bitchy neo-puritans.

~Anonymous

3. Honestly I want the hobby to be a more unsafe space for everyone too sensitive to learn to block and scroll harder because maybe if they don't feel safe they'll leave and no one will have to hear them complaining that they were emotionally traumatized for life and groomed by some random person posting a doll with a bit of sideboob. Stop trivializing real issues and find another hobby, you are literally more annoying than the people minding their own business making doll porn in peace and quiet.

~Anonymous

4. I literally do not care if someone shoves a YoSD up their hoo-hah to fulfill an unbirthing fetish, it's still not even remotely the same as scarring a real person for life and if you can't see why that is, you need serious, serious help. I am so sick of hearing this shit, like actively fed up and exhausted by it. I just... like my god. Shut up. Your sanctimonious moral aggrandizing doesn't make you right it just makes you insufferable and miserable people to exist around. Please go outside.

~Anonymous

5. if i see anyone ~naming and shaming~ someone as an ~abusive toxic pedophile~ for the crime of (looks at smudged writing on hand) owning a doll, i'm going to go out of my way to find your irl info so i can ask your parents how they fucked up this hard at raising you. you are not the protagonist of 'to catch a predator', the "last stand" against the ravages of horny crimes. you are basically the reincarnation of my pearl-clutching great aunt eva with the ability to use the internet and you suck.

~Anonymous

[s2labs]

The Salesforce certification acts as a strong pillar for proving your skills. It is an excellent manner to reinforce your professional career, and this can be done by applying trending opportunities for achieving the promotion.