#dr divehdi

[the-little-moment]

Vintage illustrative Tech, Cross, and Senna.

[anxiouspineapple99]

I know I'm late! But I *just* got this idea. Werewolf Crosshair with my OC, Senna.

By @the-little-moment

[the-little-moment]

Angstpril Day 22: Little One

Prompt: Drained

Words: 745

Summary: When everything becomes too much, Cadet Hunter, his brothers, and their favorite doctor help Tech through a meltdown.

Senna straightened from her computer in shock when the small clone burst into her office, dark curls escaping from his bandana. 

“It’s Tech,” Hunter panted, looking like he’d run all the way. “There’s something wrong with him. Can you come?”

The doctor rose immediately to join him by the door, her unfinished forms forgotten. “Where is he?” She bent to meet the boy’s wild eyes. “Is he conscious, breathing?”

“Our barracks. Yes, it’s—it’s not like that.” The cadet’s face twisted in dismay, fingers tense and fidgeting at the hem of his tunic. “He—I couldn’t get him to come with me. Crosshair and Wrecker are watching him.”

“Come on then.”

Senna snatched her travel kit from the couch as Hunter practically fled her office, leading her out of the medbay and down the hall towards the cadet barracks, dodging past older clones who parted, wide-eyed for the doctor in his wake.  

Inside the boys’ room, she paused while her eyes adjusted to the dimness. “Over here!” Hunter beckoned from the edge of a bunk across the room where the object of his panic sat, knees to forehead, skinny arms wrapped tight around his legs. Wrecker and Crosshair were looking up at her with frightened eyes. They made room for the doctor on the bed beside their brother.

Senna lowered herself onto the bunk next to the young clone, setting her kit on the floor. “Tech, sweetheart, can you tell me what’s wrong?” He hadn’t moved as she’d sat down, not reacting at all to the sound of her voice. She looked him over for any obvious injuries.

“What happened?” She turned to the others.

Hunter bit his lip. “He just shut down like that. He was angry that he couldn’t get his pad to work and then he went all quiet. We didn’t…do so great in training today.” The last part was almost a whisper. 

“But he didn’t get hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” Senna could see frustrated tears building in the boy’s eyes as he tried to answer her questions. Behind him, Wrecker shook his head in fervent confirmation. Crosshair was quiet, eyes fixed on Tech.

She laid a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Tech?” Turning back to her patient, Senna lightly touched his arm, pulling away when he made a low moan. He suddenly began to rock back and forth on the bunk, pulling in an occasional gasping breath. As she watched, his grip on his sleeves grew alarmingly tight. 

Oh.

“Boys,” the doctor lowered her voice as she faced the others, “you’ve done a great job, but if you could go sit at the table, I think your brother could use some space.”

They obeyed, and Senna shifted to the other end of the mattress. “Sweetheart,” she murmured to the small cadet, “I’m right here. Everything is fine. You’re safe.” The lights are down, it’s quiet, just give him some time.

She leaned back against the wall, smiling calmly at the three brothers on the bench and continuing in the same soft voice, “We’re just gonna be quiet a little while for Tech, okay?”

Their heads bobbed earnestly.

Ten minutes passed while Senna willed herself to exude serenity. When a shaky sigh was heard, she turned back to Tech. He’d stopped his anxious movements, but his head was still buried in his arms. “Tech?”

“I’m sorry, Senna.” His thin voice was worn with exhaustion.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, little one. I understand.” She raised her hand, then paused, “Do you mind if I touch you?”

The boy unfolded, revealing a tear-stained face beneath his large goggles. Tech wiped his nose on his sleeve and shook his head, still not meeting her eyes. Senna touched his shoulder gently, pleased when he didn’t flinch. “It’s alright, dear.” She was surprised when he turned and pressed himself into her side, his forehead against her collarbone. His delicate hands were tucked between them and she sighed in relief as her arms came up to hold him. 

Senna stroked Tech’s soft, brown hair as his brothers made an apprehensive approach. Bolstered by the doctor’s smile and lifted arm, Wrecker immediately snuggled into her other side. Hunter took his place next to Tech, one small hand on his brother’s back, and Crosshair climbed onto the far end of the bed, not touching anyone, but still wanting to be close. 

“You boys did such a good job.” Senna sighed again as she let her eyes close, just for a bit, she told herself. Then she’d go back to those karking forms. “Thank you for helping me.”

This one was more whump or hurt/comfort than angst, but that's okay 😅. I love the little Batch so much, especially little Tech.

8 more days of Angstpril! 😳 As always, the rest of the fics from this collab can be found by following our hashtag, #littlekyberthoughts, and by visiting @kybercrystals94, @just-here-with-my-thoughts, and my blogs.

Happy reading. 😬

Taglist: @clonethirstingisreal @lightwise @freesia-writes

[the-little-moment]

Feels kind of like collecting trading cards or something. Obviously Omega would complete the set 😬.

[the-little-moment]

Not mad about what I have going on here. Gonna try to see if I can finagle Phee into something that matches the others, but she was the only one that wasn’t started as a pencil drawing, so it’s going to take some reverse engineering. Maybe someday I’ll be able to draw Omega, but I just don’t have any good references to work from now.

[the-little-moment]

Been wanting to ask this for a while. If you have an OC of any gender who would wear a gown, please reblog this and show me what they’d wear! I may have an absolutely massive Pinterest board of fancy dresses and costumes because I love looking at them. Bonus if it’s very fantasy/sci fi/not normal Earth type clothing.

[the-little-moment]

Braided Together

A Collection of Hair Stories with

Senna and the Bad Batch

Words: 1,772

Warnings: None

Just some sweet fluff. There's a separate little story for each character.💕

Hunter

Senna combed her fingers through the sergeant’s black hair, feeling the silk of it. 

“Crosshair used to do this, and Tech helps now, but you know how he is.”

The doctor chuckled. “Oh, I know. I don’t mind at all, dear. I am a little rusty though.”

“At least you’re not gonna lecture me while you do it. It makes me feel like he’s got me right where he wants me,” Hunter admitted, raising two fingers like a pair of scissors, “and he’s pointing a sharp object at my head in case I get any ideas.”

Senna bit her lip in an effort not to laugh at his exasperation. “Hmm, the lecture costs extra.”

Hunter was sitting on the third step of the ship's ramp, Senna perched just above him so she could get a good view of what she was doing. His hair was still damp from his shower and she had spread a towel over his shoulders to catch what she was about to cut. A warm breeze blew through the docking yard as Hunter tilted his face up to the sunshine, trying to ignore the clatter of pit droids arguing nearby.

One would think that all clones would share the same hair, but Senna had seen every variety the Fett genome could produce in her time on Kamino. Shades of blonde, brown, red, and, of course, black. Even silver, like Crosshair’s. Most clones had tight curls, but Hunter’s hair fell in softer waves. It was longer now than he usually kept it, brushing his shoulders. 

“You have such nice hair.”

“Thanks," he murmured, eyes closed. If it was quieter he could see himself falling asleep. "I do absolutely nothing to it.”

“That seems to be the trick, as far as I can tell. We women torture our hair.”

The sergeant chuckled at that. “I condition it with sweat.”

Senna grinned, shaking her head as she lifted the scissors to make the first cut. 

Omega

Omega sighed and leaned forward on her elbows, one finger tracing idle patterns on the console as Senna drew the brush through her short, blonde waves. “I wish I had hair like you, Senna.”

The doctor smiled at her wistful tone. “What, black?”

“Long.” She spread out her arms and sighed again.

“Oh.” Senna chuckled, separating a tangle at the back of the girl's neck. She and Wrecker had played—that is trained, hard today. “Well, you can if you want to, but it’s mostly just a giant pain.”

“But it’s so pretty.” Omega sat thoughtfully for a moment as Senna continued brushing. “Do boys like girls with long hair better?”

Senna thought her brain had short-circuited for a second, arm frozen halfway through a brush stroke. “I—uh,” she offered helpfully. “Um.” Where had this come from? Senna took a deep breath and sent a prayer up to the spirit of her mother, a woman who had somehow raised two thirteen year old girls. 

“Honey,” she resumed her brushing, “there are trillions of boys in the galaxy and they all like different things. What’s more important is what makes you happy. There’s only one you.” 

Tech

“Time for bed, Tech.” Senna came up behind him and knocked on the back of his seat. “Honey?”

“I only require a few more minutes,” the pilot muttered, hunched over the circuit board he was soldering. Senna had grown to fear that soldering iron after she’d followed the smell of smoke one night to find him asleep with it in his hand, slowly burning a hole through the part he was holding. Maker, how had they survived this long? 

“You’ll have plenty more minutes tomorrow.” Nothing made her feel more like her mother than trying to get her family to go to bed. At least Wrecker was a good sleeper, bless him. And Hunter tried.

Tech sighed and switched off the tool as she pulled him gently back in the chair by his shoulders. “Somehow I managed to accomplish more before you joined us.” 

“You’re about to trigger a lecture on the importance of sleep.” Tech groaned as she reached up and ran her fingers through his short hair, scratching his scalp gently. “Goggles.” She tapped the side of a lens and he pulled them off. They spent another minute like that, Senna gently massaging his head, her chin on the back of his seat, concentrating on the dents his goggles left, as he closed his eyes and sighed. “Alright, dear. Time to sleep.” She bent and kissed the top of his head like she had when he was small, smiling as Tech lurched to his feet and headed to his rack. 

“G’night, Senna.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Wrecker

Wrecker had kept his head shaved ever since the accident. That awful day when he and his brothers had been cadets that had taken half of his sight and hearing and left them all terrified of his decommissioning. As a child, he’d had thick curls like any other clone, although a shade or two lighter than the prevalent black. 

Senna had taken the razor from the medic who had been about to shave the burnt remains of the young clone's hair, knowing that, if he was awake, he’d rather her do it. He’d been off-balance for many weeks after his injury and she had continued to shave his head for him whenever the hair started to grow back, taking extra care around the fresh scar that surrounded his ear. They’d grown even closer during that time when his brothers had been forced to continue their training without him. 

“You don’t think…it makes me ugly?”

Wrecker's left eye was still bandaged and Senna’s heart broke when he gazed at her sadly from the hospital bed, as miserable as a kicked akk pup.

“Oh, honey, no." The doctor rolled her stool from the monitor she'd been typing at to take his hand. "There’s no such thing as an ugly clone. The longnecks didn’t know the favor they were doing the galaxy when they made you and your brothers.”

He’d laughed at that, and Senna had leaned over and squeezed him extra tight. Her little Wrecker, now so much taller than she was, but still with the same sweet heart he’d always had.

Senna

“Thank you for letting me do this,” Tech said from his cross-legged position on the floor of the ship, a brush in one hand and the ends of Senna's hair in the other. She was perched, knees drawn up to her chin, on a cargo crate in front of him to keep the heavy waves off the floor. 

“Of course, dear. You’re always welcome. Means I get to rest my arms.” 

The doctor smiled to herself as she thought back to a very strange two days, when a much younger Tech, bored with his lessons, had developed a brief, but passionate fixation on learning to style her hair. His quick mind and nimble fingers had instantly mastered the braided crown she wore every day, insisting that she stay while he practiced increasingly intricate plaits, much to the bewilderment of his brothers. When she’d visited the Batch the next day, he was ready for her, immediately ushering her to sit on his bunk while he took her hair down and explained the traditional Mirialan and Chalactan hairstyles he’d researched the night before, a pile of handmade hair pins at his side. It had all been desperately adorable, and Senna clearly recalled an amused Hunter taking a holo of them at some point. She’d have to try to dig it up. 

Tech slowly worked the brush up the length of her hair, patiently untangling the occasional knot. When he’d reached her shoulders, he unfolded his long legs and stood to finish the top of her head. “That feels nice,” Senna muttered, closing her eyes as the bristles scraped against her scalp and down her neck. 

Tech smiled as he worked carefully around her ears. When all of the tangles were gone, he placed the brush at the crown of her head and dramatically drew it down the entire length in one smooth movement. “That is quite satisfying.”

Crosshair

The little clone glared bitterly down at his boots, as if they were to blame for all his troubles. “It’s just another thing for them to make fun of.” 

Crosshair was sitting next to her on his bunk as Senna rubbed his arm absently. She hated seeing him unhappy. The fresh scar over his right eye only added to his look of misery. 

“Sweetheart, your hair is beautiful. I’ve always thought so.”

“It’s different," he grumbled. "I don’t want to be different.”

“I know. When you get older, you can dye it if you really want to. I hope you don’t though.”

The boy sighed and slumped against her as she brushed her fingers through the soft silveriness of it. “Even you have black hair, Sen.”

She laughed at the grumpy observation. “You know, when I was your age, I wanted to be a redhead.”

Crosshair turned to look at her in confusion. “Why? Your hair’s nice.”

“Because everyone in my family had black hair and I wanted to be different.” The memory was vaguely embarrassing now. 

His small face twisted in disgust as Crosshair settled back against her arm. “You’d look terrible with red hair.”

“Thanks, dear.” Senna lifted her eyes to the barracks ceiling and tried not to sigh back at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Echo

“It’s all yours.”

Senna looked up from her datapad as Echo entered the cabin, tilting his head to knock water from his ears. She smiled as he gave his head one more pass with the towel. “You’re always so fast.”

“Yeah, well, it goes faster when you have less to wash. Dunno how you deal with all that hair.”

“I have thought about cutting it." Senna grimaced to herself. "We had so much water on Kamino, but here…”

Echo’s eyes widened slightly as he adjusted his scomp prostheses over the folded sleeve of his shirt. “I didn’t mean you should cut it! I was just…making an observation.”

Senna chuckled at his concern. “No one on this ship seems to be a fan of me cutting my hair. Not even Tech, and he’s the practical one.”

Echo didn’t appreciate the implication that he was impractical. “Well, people get used to things.” He shrugged as he hung his towel over the edge of the top rack to dry, reaching for his neural brace. “And you have nice hair.”

“Thanks, dear.” Senna smiled fondly as she watched Echo replace his headpiece, eyes going blank for a second as the system reconnected. Then he was back, giving her a wry look as he took the chair across from her. 

“If you do cut it, can I have some of it? It’s the same color and everything.”

That made her laugh. “Sure thing. We’ll just glue it to your head and it’ll look totally natural.”

“I’m sure.” Echo sighed. “Plenty of troopers shave their heads. I guess I should be glad I don’t have to keep up with that.”

Senna bit her lip as she smiled in sympathy. It was different when you had a choice. It was different when it wasn’t just another thing that had been taken away. “It’s a good thing you have such lovely eyebrows. And…armpit hair.”

Echo guffawed and then Senna was laughing at the way he was laughing, sure she saw tears of mirth in his eyes. “Thanks!” the soldier gasped, leaning heavily on the arm of the chair as he shook with laughter. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

@lightwise @bad-batch-lurker @freesia-writes @kybercrystals94 @just-here-with-my-thoughts @clonethirstingisreal

[the-little-moment]

La Pietà alla Star Wars

As a former art history student, I really perked up last year when I got a copy of Medstar 2: Jedi Healer. The cover art of Padawan Barriss Offee (by Dave Seeley) is an obvious homage to the famous marble sculpture by Michelangelo, Madonna della Pieta. The artist even painted Barriss in her cloak so she can mimic the way the Madonna holds it in her right hand. UGH SO GOOD.

I wanted to read these (godawful) books, against all recommendations, because they contain basically the only info given on Mirialan culture and my OC has Mirialan ancestry. AND they're also some of the only SW media that focuses on medicine. The main character, Jos, is an army surgeon like Senna. So yeah, bad books, some good info, great cover art.

Which brings me to my point - I'm working on a painting of Senna as La Pieta with a clone in phase 2 armor. Fun stuff.

[the-little-moment]

My idea for Senna was pretty simple. I wanted someone who had loved them from the start.

[the-little-moment]

The Dress

@freesia-writes super cute Crosshair fic inspired me to finally post this Echo/Senna one shot I wrote last year. It was going to be part of "Carcass" but I didn't think it fit the vibe. And the trope is so, well, tropey. 😂 Anyway, enjoy!

Echo has never had an opinion on flowers, never even really noticed them, until now.

Words: 822

Warnings: None

“Cid will die for this,” Senna gritted out, looking down at the fat bundle of plum-colored fabric in her hands. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Echo encouraged from beyond the fresher door. “And it’s just for one night.” 

The doctor glared at her reflection in the dirty mirror. Changing into a gown in the tiny fresher was going to be a nightmare that she was dreading already. “Would you like to wear it then?”

“Somehow I don’t think that’d have the desired effect.” 

“I don’t know, I think you’d be very distracting!” 

Echo was chuckling when the fresher door hissed open, revealing a deeply disgruntled Senna. 

“Do I get to see it?” He stepped back to let her out into the small hall of the Marauder. 

“Not until it’s absolutely unavoidable.”

“Something to look forward to then.”

Senna rounded on the pale clone, sticking out a finger in accusation. “Don’t you dare enjoy this. This is just what I needed to really round out my month, public humiliation.” 

Echo raised his hand and scomp in a placating gesture, but she could see he was biting back a grin. 

“Sen, you look…really nice.”

“No,” the doctor sighed. “But thank you anyway.”

“You really don’t think so?”

“Let’s just say that mine and Cid’s tastes differ.”

Echo snorted. “Can’t imagine that’s a bad thing.” 

It was the evening of the party in the sparkling city of Canto Bight and Echo was waiting with Senna while the others finished scoping out the lavish hotel that the doctor would be infiltrating. From the outside, it would be a gathering like any other, but Cid had told them that information was changing hands that night, information that was very valuable to the Trandoshan. If they completed this job, they'd be eating well. And Senna was the only one of them who could really blend in. 

Echo looked at her softly for a moment, taking in the smooth, brown skin of her bare arms. She’d look perfect in anything. “Well, what would you wear if you could choose?”

Senna frowned as she adjusted an earring. “I wouldn’t be going if it was my choice.”

“That’s a given. I meant more like, to something you actually wanted to attend.”

That made the doctor smile wistfully. She turned her back and lifted the fall of her hair so Echo could see the 99 on her shoulder blade. “Can you do the little hook at the top? Those things are literally impossible.”

Echo held his breath as his fingers brushed against her spine. He had to pull his glove off in order to get the infinitesimally tiny hook through the even more stupidly small loop, grunting in satisfaction when it caught. Add that to the list of things that would be easier with two hands. 

“When I was in school on Corrie, we had this dance every year. I only went once, because I was too busy the other years, but my roommate begged me. Anyway, my dress for that was probably my favorite thing I’ve ever worn.” She turned back to face him.

“What was it?” 

“It was—well actually it was about the same color as your Five-Oh-First armor, and it came down to the floor. There was a pattern of gold, four-point stars on the skirt. High collar, but sleeveless and no back.”

Echo swallowed. “Right. That sounds…”

“It was more my style than all this fluff,” the doctor sighed as she tried again to smooth down the gown’s exuberant skirt. 

“Well, I still say you look nice. Kinda like a flower.”

Senna smiled up at him. “A big, fluffy, purple flower named Sen.”

Echo was supposed to be keeping an eye on their target, but he was having trouble keeping his attention from wandering to a certain fluffy flower who was currently doing what he thought was an impressive job of playing the wealthy socialite. No one there would be able to guess that, only hours earlier, Senna had been changing in a tiny fresher on a beat up military shuttle.

He’d never seen her like this before, sparkling, with all of those genteel mannerisms she must have used in her life before Kamino. She’d always been elegant, with her Bar’lethi accent and gentle poise, but this was something else. Something she must not have needed for a long time now. 

The thought of her in the blue dress drifted across his mind. He would have paid good credits to see her in 501st blue, although it was difficult to imagine her looking more beautiful than she did right now. He barely managed not to jump when Hunter’s dry voice came through his comm. 

“Enjoying the view, Corporal?”

Echo was glad Hunter couldn’t see him grimace. “Just keeping an eye on…the situation.”

“Uh huh. Tech’s got eyes on Senna. You focus on our special friend.”

A sigh welled up inside Echo, but he wasn’t going to give Hunter the satisfaction of hearing it. It was going to be a long night.

[the-little-moment]

For some reason I love watching 10 hours of work condensed into a low quality, 30 second video. Like, "Haha, wow! That was easy!" 🫠

[the-little-moment]

Meet Teeny Divehdi, Senna’s little cleaning droid that Crosshair mostly tolerates because it drives Mayday insane. Teeny is…not very smart. Mayday calls him “Private”.

Sometimes Teeny gets a used toothpick as a treat.

Mayday gave him Crosshair’s tattoo. Crosshair gave him a deece.

[the-little-moment]

This means I actually have to start sharing this story now, right? 😬

Click for way too much clarity 🔍 because I don’t know how to downsize art properly.

[the-little-moment]

I don't think I've ever been so done with anything in my life. The drawing was fun. Editing everything on my phone was a nightmare. But here's the Bad Batch + Dr. Senna Divehdi. My only regret is that Hunter looks too much like his cartoon version compared to the rest of them. Had to draw Wrecker without a reference because he always has very exaggerated expressions in the show, but I especially like how sweet he ended up looking. Click for clarity!

[the-little-moment]

So very happy to finally have finished this project. I’d draw Omega, but don’t have a reference I like for a realistic version of her. Maybe someday.

[the-little-moment]

Current goofy WIP that started as a height chart and got cute.