when ur inconsiderate genetic duplicates fake a few deaths and kill a Sith w/out you
(you are a million other genetic duplicates)
Sketch Week! More concept art for Repurposing GAR armor towards the end of pulverizing wrinkly Sith — A guide by CC-1010, ecstatically-ex-marshal commander of Coruscant (AU)
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They drew straws. Except Fox. They all agreed that Fox should have first stab.
@terapsina thanks for the idea!
Tap for better quality
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Comic page commissioned by @the-bad-batch-baroness of her fanfic “Suckers”
This page was such a delight to draw and the fic is hilarious, so everyone go read it 🤩
Commission Info
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being a clone wars fan is incredibly inconvenient, because my top 5 favorite characters are:
guy who got shot
guy who shot the first guy
different guy who got shot and had like 3 lines of dialogue + 3 bajillion lore inconsistencies
guy who is incredibly hard to write (for me), his main ship has like 10 gifs worth of canon content, and vaguely but inevitably doomed to a tragic fate
david felony's favorite OCs with plot armor but at the cost of watching everyone they love die
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I'm just gonna leave this here 🤗
"Do you think it hurt?" The question had been eating Wolffe alive, ever since he had deserted the Empire and realised what he did.
Rex turned to him, "Did what hurt, Wolffe?"
"The general..." Wolffe couldn't bring himself to say anymore, as he felt the bitter bile stir in his stomach.
"No," Rex tried to sound reassuring, tried to sound like everything will be alright when it ultimately won't and will never be, "I think it was quick, painless."
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the littlest Corrie
Corrie Guard CT-9832, “Ace”, reported for duty for the very first time at 0700 in Commander Fox’s office.
The commander had clearly been working through the night — either that or he was partial to three ration tins, a whole pot of caf, and meditating face-down on his desk first thing in the morning.
Fives— no, Ace— knocked on the doorframe. Loudly.
Fox jerked upright, eyes crossed, drool drying in his stubble. When he finally focused on Ace, he stopped looking baffled and became disgustingly smug.
“Ace. How does the kit fit?” He rasped.
Ace took off his bucket so he could scowl more effectively. “Bit on the nose, calling me that.”
Fox’s self-satisfied smirk turned nasty, but no less pompous. “My apologies. Would you have preferred ‘Baby Blue’?”
Ace sat down at the commander’s desk without waiting for permission, propping his boots on the dusk with pointedly heavy thunks.
“Better’n ‘Dead Man’.” He said.
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Fox: what are your names?
Fives: dont tell him, echo
Fox: so you’re echo
Echo: good job, fives
Fox: and this is fives. great
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Fives and Echo after wreaking havoc at 79's : Are we going too far?
Fox: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.
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