Oh my god, it’s Cody with a chair!

Woo! Fan comic of @frostbitebakery ‘s Zombi-Wan fanfic: “Who Ordered the Resurrection Special” 💫💫💫 It’s a fun read, highly recommend.

Related post:

Let them rest god darn it

I made two more, and probably gonna make more once I’m done with all commissions (and once uni is finally over lol)

Cody and Obi-Wan

Rex and Anakin

we have good and bad jedi.

fans can bicker all the live long day about who their favorite jedi general is, but what about the clones? the troopers of the 501st knew undoubtedly that general skywalker valued them, as someone born into slavery, born into a life where his value was determined by what he could do, anakin knows the importance of letting his troops know they are valued.

“still showing off, general?”

“you know me, echo.”

the 212th revered obi-wan for his just leadership, levelheaded thinking, and his skills on the battlefield. his friendship with commander cody is a testament to his respect for the gar. obi-wan is a kind person, not overly so, as he keeps his emotions fairly in check, being a more by the books general than his former padawan, but he is caring, and he cares dearly for the 212th, and it reflects in the 212th’s loyalty and respect for their general.

“you didn't miss much. last time, i was chained to a pole and attacked by several humongous monsters."

"that sounds entertaining."

"it was. for the geonosians.”

yoda, wise as he was, wasn’t particularly inclined to emotional outbursts, but a kind word, yes. yoda more than any jedi could appreciate the value of individuality among the clones. the 41st respected the jedi master and general, for his was wise beyond his many many years of age.

“not much to look at here, sir. we all share the same face.”

“deceive you, eyes can. in the force, very different, each one of you are.”

oh, but the general of the 104th, he was no general at all. jedi master plo koon hardly saw the clones as troopers, and certainly not as numbers. clones who were assigned to the 104th battalion knew that they would be fighting alongside someone who viewed each of them as a human being, not just another number, not something expendable. they weren’t replaceable as droids were, nor so mechanical and unfeeling. these were boys, boys aged to fight in a war they couldn’t possibly understand. these were fatherless sons, and in his infinite paternal wisdom, general plo was family. general plo who led his wolfpack, who decorated their ships, painted them, words streaked in aurebesh “plo’s bros.” these were his sons.

“we’re meant to be expendable.”

“not to me.”

i’m sorry i have so many feelings about the father of the 104th.

Looking at the command clones’ armor can tell you a lot about them.

First we have Fox. The man sticks to his aesthetic. He’s got minute scratches running along quite a bit of his armor (and people say the guard doesn’t do anything. The boy has scratches on the face of his helmet! Who was he dealing with?). The white of his armor is as clean as a shiny’s and the red paint is well kept. The public image of the clones probably comes from what civilians see of the Coruscant Guard, so you better bet he’s gonna keep his paint looking tip top to help his brothers on the front lines.

Next is Rex. His armor looks older, tinged yellow with time and dirt. The blue paint is old but the tally marks come through loud and clear. It gives the captain a bit of a worn look, making him seem older than his age but also showing he’ll stick to what’s important.

Here we have Cody, colors matching his general (hmm). His armor. I have. No words. The gAUGES CODY ARE YOU OKAY? There are slight scorch marks and heavy scratches in the paint. But, the paint itself doesn’t look old. This is the mark of a madman. Cody yeets himself at every given opportunity and it’s written all over his armor. While he takes care of it, it’s also his only line of defense when he dogpiles grievous. Also, the sunburst patterns are lovely.

This man’s entire look (and battalion) is designed after his name. The little growly wolf teeth are kind of adorable and the fur patterns make for a uniquely identifiable aesthetic. It’s funny though because Wolffe has a redesigned look every time he’s on screen. Wolffe is a not-so-closeted diva. His paint is perfect and without a single flaw. Everything about Wolffe and the Wolfpack is adorable (and I’m sure plo koon tells them so on the regular).

Fanart for the fic “The Chips Didn’t Work” by @jedi-order-apologist​!

This fic is so wonderful, go read it :) 

Keep reading

Plo carrying a sleeping Wolffe (or injured, that also works)

@bow-weaver

Plo Koon had lived a long time. He was never quite surprised when he made connections with other people. It was what stood him in good stead as a Finder, as a Consular. The Code and its interpretations of ‘attachment’ had long since ceased to bother him. He understood that sentient beings had to express all emotions somehow to be healthy. It was a matter of moderation and consideration that kept people firmly in the Light, or so he believed.

Despite all of this, even his wisdom failed him at the ferocity of his attachment to his Clone Commander. Wolffe, from the moment they had been introduced, both fascinated him and called to his soul. There was so much pain in this survivor of Kamino, and yet Wolffe took that pain, used it as fuel to do all he could to protect his brothers, to make their lives better with no thought of himself in it.

Then Asajj happened. And Plo learned, deeply, that some attachments could bring a being closer to Darkness than they ever believed possible, because he knew he would not have stopped if he had not found Wolffe still living. Nor would he devalue all Wolffe had been through by inflicting pity on the young man.

No, Plo just took care to see to his Commander’s care and well-being as attentively as Wolffe looked after Plo. As hurt and distrustful as Wolffe could be of others, Plo knew nothing but pure affection for the young man the first time he picked up the exhausted officer, and Wolffe remained sleeping all the way back to quarters.

This was who they were now. General Buir and Commander Wolffe, an unbreakable pair, would continue to take care of each other, so that they could protect all of the men.

cub

Oh my God. Oh my God. Don’t do this to me……. Fuck. Shitting hell. *pushes ravenous plot bunnies away with a broom*

Wolffe opens his eyes, looking up at the familiar face of someone he knows. He doesn't  know the man’s name, but he knows he’s safe with the man.

“Wolffe. Are you alright. ”

“Yes.” Wolffe tells the man who let’s out a sharp breath of relief and tugs him forward, onto a hug, one clawed hand cupping Wolffe’s head and neck, holding into him like he’s precious.

Wolffe wraps tiny hands in the fabric of the man’s cloak, holding on when he’s lifted up, balanced on the man’s hip. “Do you know what happened Wolffe?”

“No, sir.”

“Wolffe.” There’s a pause and Wolffe tilts his head up to look at unblinking optics. “Do you know who I am?”

“You’re safe.” Wolffe says, with all the belief a four year old can muster.

“Oh force.” the man whispers it and hugs Wolffe tightly, loosening his grip when Wolffe squirms. “Do you know who  *you* are?”

“Wolffe?” He tries not to make it a question, and then speaks again, with more conviction. “I’m Wolffe.”

“You are Wolffe, yes.” The man agrees. “Is that all you know?”

“I know my desi-my desig…. I know my number, sir.” Wolffe says stuttering over the too long word. “Cee Cee three six three six.”

“Oh force.” The man whispers again and then rests his forehead against Wolffe’s. “My name is Plo Koon.”

“Are you my drill instruct-tor, sir?” Wolffe asks, pronouncing the word carefully.

“I am not.” Plo says it quietly. “But I am your general. And until we get back to the temple, I’m you’re guardian. ”

“Whatssa Guardian?” Wolffe asks Plo who smiles behind his rebreather.

“It’s someone who takes care of a minor until they’re grown.”

“Like a parent?” Wolffe asks in a little voice and Plo feels his heart clench.

“Yes.” He says without pause. “Exactly like a parent.” Wolffe smiles up at him and Plo decides here and now that he’ll throw his lightsaber right at Yoda’s wrinkled green head if he says one word about attachment.

OH MY HEARTTTTT!!!!! This is so damn sweet jfcc and it’s to one of my favorite drawings of these two aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!

:D

I forgot I had this.

He wonders if his General came because they were comrades, or because the intel in Wolffe’s head was much too important to fall in enemy hands…but there is something in the way Plo calls him son… - After being captured by Separatists and losing an eye to the Sith, Wolffe struggles to come to terms with the worth of a clone.

Silly writing

I’m currently unable to properly write, because my lense ran away from me and began a new career as a scubadiver and it’s frustrating. Sooo have a little silly thing typed on mobile (omg I hate that), born from a silly discussion. Because I WANNA WRITE DAMMIT.

Fang is borrowed with permission from @marloviandevil (whom is the very person the silly discussion was done with. Thaaaanks)

Plo stared at his pack, torn between fond exasperation and deep amusement. He was not familiar with Hezrr’s wildlife but, given the planet large and vast forests, the presence of wolves here wasn’t surprising. He had not thought his men would try to catch one, though. He could not see Wolffe allowing the frivolous chase that had probably been either, not when they were still on duty anyway. Speaking of his Commander…

« Where is Wolffe ? » he asked Sinker.

The clone sighed and pointed at the wolfcub sitting at his feet. It was somewhat big, for a pup, with a thick coat of black fur and a glare and missing… an eye. Oh dear Force.

The clones had apparently ran across an old ruin site during their recon, and when Wolffe had stepped inside to see if the wrecked building would make for a potential camp… there had been a terrible high pitched sound that made all of them wince, even those wearing their helmets, and when they had opened their eyes, there had been a wolfcub growling inside Wolffe’s armor.

Even without the missing eye, and the fact that the Pup had his Commander’s Force-presence as proof, Plo was certain this was Wolffe. Especially with the glare and the bitten fingers Boost got when he tried to carry the young wolf in his helmet. Or the expert way he was dodging all of Fang’s attempts to catch him.

« I do believe he is in perfect health, running like that. » the Kel-Dor smiled after yet another failed catch. « He is a WOLF. » the medic snarled, glaring at the pup running ahead. « This is not ‘perfect health’. »

To be perfectly honest, Plo WAS worried but, as they were going back to the ruin site, they wasn’t much more to be done for now. He could feel no pain coming from Wolffe, just grumbling resignation and some very amusing gleeful mischief.

« No, it’s not, but he is quite energetic. You would probably be better off waiting for him to exhaust himself, running everywhere like that. » Plo pointed out.

Fang gave up his chase with a pointed sigh.

« I am SO winning the next “what shit did your vode get into” medic meeting. » he muttered under his breath.

If the Wolfpack had been worried about their leader, it became quite apparent that he was still mostly his usual self. Running ahead of them, taking point, doubling back to check on them, barking furiously against the vod that was taking the situation a bit too lightly and almost ended up in the pond of quicksand the wolf had been trying to make him avoid.

The only novelty was the biting, and that wasn’t very surprising. Painful, though, because the only reachable part for the wolfcub was the ankle and Wolffe had managed to find the precise spot where leg armor met the boot, providing just the slightest of spaces for the wolf to sink his teeth into tender flesh.

Eventually, Plo’s prediction became true. As they neared the ruins, Wolffe first began to slow down until he nearly collapsed on the spot. He would have, if Comet had not been waiting for it for half an hour, now, and hadn’t reached in time to catch the pup, cradling him carefully against his chest.

Plo ended up studying the ruins remotely, not willing to risk another transformation, his mind focusing on the strange energies around the old place while his clawed hands stroked a dozing pup on his lap.

Wolffe opened an eye, tried to figure out when and how he went from standing up to lying on his side, but scratches on his head with wonderfully talented fingers made him nozzle back into that comfortable warmth. He would investigate later.

Of fucking course, Fang got his fingers bitten when he tried to remove the wolfcub from their General’s lap.

@deadcatwithaflamethrower its not slick biting, but it still has a clone(even as a wolf) biting clones.