clonememesfrikyeah - Tumblr blog

[clonememesfrikyeah]

i think marshal commander cody is actually youngest sibling coded

reasons:

1: in legends, alpha-17 was in charge of the 212th for 6-12 months at the start of the war until a traumatic experience and injuries shelved him

2: likewise in canon, cody did not participate in the battle of geonosis. but we DO know that rex did and if rex was there obviously cody shouldve been there if he was eligible to do so.

3: bodying a nine foot four armed cyborg with spinning laserswords without a second thought is so clearly youngest sibling energy there is absolutely no thinking involved no hesitation of the consequences of his actions

conclusion:

cody is excelling at the oldest sibling vibes but the cracks are there if you look

surprising secondary conclusion:

rex is the oldest sibling.

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Commander Fox: and then we had to expand to the store room because they all had so much shit we can use, but we have a solid filing system. I’m gonna have to pull out the GOOD blackmail to get the clone rights bill passed though. Maybe even a bomb threat or two, perhaps kidnap a spouse

Captain Rex: I asked why Fives is alive I don’t care about your involvement in politics

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Thinking about a scenario where Anakin gets hurt, is cornered, and is about to die, and Rex shows up, grabs Anakin’s lightsaber, and gets his own murder spree. Then, when there literally isn’t a single opponent left, all have been cut down or were smart enough to get tf outta there, Rex runs over to Anakin, throwing the lightsaber to the ground cuz he’s got his priorities and doesn’t care if it’s a sacred thing it’s all just space wizard mumbo jumbo shit to him, and then he treats Anakin’s wounds to the best of his abilities, then carries him off to get help bridal style while Anakin cuddles up to him and stares up to him because he is now smitten and this near death experience was his gay awakening

Now to decide which fic to put it in… or if it should have its own, or if I should put it in both Rexwalker fics I’m working on 🤔

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Hello 👀 I would like to congratulate you upon your milestone reaching!

May a simple, humble, lowly simp ask for a Carmel topping ("so now it's *my* kid?") with a heaping big boy Alpha-17 scoop?

I'm looking forward to reading all these wonderful ideas of yours!

Congratulations again 🎉

Thank you so much for this ask! It actually inspired two ficlets, the other one will eventually be part of the Mission:Buir series. But for now, I hope you enjoy!

A Warrior's Spirit

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Fem!Reader Event: Sunshine's Follower Milestone (still open) Graphic dividers and Event graphics: by myself @sunshinesdaydream Rating: SFW WARNINGS: Pregnancy Contains: Badly translated Mando'a (translations at the end) Word count: 343

You are awake when he tries to slide into the bed and not wake you, he had been leading one of the training exercises for the potential ARC troopers that ran late into the night.  Most of the time it worked, at some point in the night he would slip in and wrap you in his strong arms and you wouldn’t wake until morning. Well, it worked all of the time except when you were already awake. 

You turn towards him with a quiet sigh of his name.

“Cyare, you should be asleep,” his voice somewhere between a grumble and a murmur. 

“I was, until your kid decided to use my bladder as a punching bag,” you pout, snuggling your face to his chest. He smells of fresh soap. 

“So now it’s my kid?” He teases in a low murmur. 

“Well, I can’t punch like that,” you reason, your face still buried against his broad chest. 

Alpha lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “We’ll have to fix that later, then” he answers.  

After several long minutes of him holding you, he kisses the top of your head before shifting until he was able to gently kiss your stomach, then as he strokes the side of your stomach soothingly he begins speaking to the baby. 

“Udesii, ad’ika,” he says. “Gar buir cuyir haryc.”

As usual, the baby calms at the rumble of their father’s voice as you relax automatically with his presence. 

“Ca’nara nuhoyir, verd’ika.  Akaanir naka’tuur,” then he began to sing “Vode An” and then his remembrances as a lullaby.  Quieter, but his voice still carries the power of the full chant.

You reach down to run your fingers through his hair, still damp from the shower, and remember his answer when you had asked about his unconventional lullaby.  

“It doesn’t matter what they do with their life, what they decide to become. A legacy of strength and a warrior’s spirit will help them.” He had answered. 

You quickly fall off to sleep to the comforting sound of his voice.  

Mando'a Translation: “Udesii, ad’ika,” he says. “Gar buir cuyir haryc.” -"Calm down, little one," He says. "Your (Parent/Mother) is tired"

“Ca’nara nuhoyir, verd’ika.  Akaanir naka’tuur,” - "Time to sleep, little warrior. Fight tomorrow,"

"Vode An"- Link to YouTube video Wookiepedia of lyrics and translation

Tag List (thank you for joining): @sleepycreativewriter @cloneloverrrrr @trappedinlimbo15 @merkitty49

@cdblake1565 @littlemissmanga @skywlker-sluvtt @the-bad-batch-baroness

@padawancat97 @dystopicjumpsuit @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep

@starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @wings-and-beskar

@captain-rexs-cyare @cw80831 @leotawrites @nahoney22 @trixie2023

@transactivecybermemory @sverdgeir

To Join Tag List or be removed from the taglist Click Here. You can also DM, send an ask, or reply on this fic.

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Commission for @alamogirl80 of their OC Slash! Thank you for trusting me with your boy 💛

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Okay so there has been a shockingly small amount of Echo in this last season and I'm a little bit pissed. Don't get me wrong I've been loving every minute of it, BUT!!! I miss my Echo. I miss him. And honestly we have to rectify the situation, so here you go!

And obviously we couldn't not include our boi Tech, who is still alive by the way. We know he looks a bit different in Leon's art style, but that comes with trying to meld Tem's looks with the clone wars style and our own personal head cannons.

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Thorn, looking at the details of a gala the Guard is providing security for: I just glanced at the menu. Aged rice? What does that even mean?

Stone: I already looked it up. It's a certain type of rice grown in Bormea, that is stored in hyper-technological silos for at least seven years, where the temperature and humidity is carefully controlled to allow the starch in the grain to turn perfectly stable

Fox: Maybe I could be stored in a silo as well. At this point, why not

Thorn: .....do you need help?

Fox: No, I need to be stored in a silo for seven years to turn perfectly stable

[clonememesfrikyeah]

she asked bushra btw

(the true CG experience is slowly realising that Fox is the most awkward and cringe person on the whole planet, but everybody keeps supporting her anyway)

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Drew some clones while I desperately try to whack back the art block

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

I got tagged by the skill-power-house @lothcatthree

Finally got that lineart done for LOUD. Cody! Since it’s cyberpunk, the battalion number is shown on a screen, as is the general status of the clone inside the armor. As there is “deployed”, “alive”, “critical”, “dead”, and, to Cody’s puzzlement, “activated”.

It’s Open Season Tags!

[clonememesfrikyeah]

LOUD.

a Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan AU

“Each of us, every single clone, is a one-man army. And yes, I am… I’m so proud of them. We protect the Galaxy, we die fighting for the Galaxy and its peoples. We are not made for peace times, Obi-Wan.”

The cynical part of Obi-Wan wants to ask why Cody is so steadfast in his belief when everywhere the clones go they’re confronted with people dismissing them, equating them to the droids they’re fighting.

He understands, though. Jedi are only welcome where people know about the help they can provide. The Order is looked down upon, the Jedi just as easily dismissed, more often than not when it comes to it.

And still. And still. The call to protect people is too strong to ignore. He doesn’t want to ignore the call. He can help so he does.

So yes, he understands Cody and his need to fight.

He watches as Cody self-consciously rubs the back of his neck, fingers not halting over the port, so— so used to its presence, as the silence reigns. Cody doesn’t try to further his explanations. He said his piece and that’s that.

Obi-Wan settles down on the floor in front of the weightlifting bench. And Cody.

He crosses his legs automatically, the armor he has to don if he wants to engage in the battles blessedly absent, here. His fingers find Cody’s other hand in his lap, tapping it lightly, glancing by the embedded screen in the armored boot proclaiming Cody as belonging to the 212th.

Commander Cody got his own Attack Battalion. Mace remains the immediate superior but the brass saw Cody’s merit. No Jedi can easily fill the role as war general and Cody is… too brilliant to not be in charge. He and Mace have been flattening the CIS, the GAR is only too happy to spread out their heavy hitters.

“He’s always giving them a chance to surrender first,” Cody had commented on Mace, pride and admiration shining from his whole body. “How he’s able to walk with balls like that is a mystery to me.”

Obi-Wan had politely choked on nothing.

Once Cody is looking at him, apologies in his eyes for being made for war, of war, Obi-Wan signs a simple question. “How would you know?”

Temper makes the scarred eyebrow rise and Obi-Wan continues, undeterred now that Cody’s attention isn’t on misplaced guilt.

“You know nothing but war. You’ve learnt nothing but war. You’ve,” Obi-Wan pauses to swallow the grief, “experienced nothing but war in your life. How would you know you’re not made for peace times when you haven’t even had the chance to live in them?”

A smile, half there and fleeing, cracks, warm brown eyes watch Obi-Wan’s hands. “In my darkest moments I’m not sure I’ll even see them.”

Obi-Wan is against false promises but hope has never left his life’s side and he’d like to share. “We work together and we end this war. We see as many of you and us on the other side as possible.”

“Sounds like an easy first step,” Cody laughs ruefully, and leans down, captures Obi-Wan’s unmasked face, blurred by the unknown, and holds their foreheads together for a long self-indulgent moment.

Obi-Wan ducks his head, mask and scars in place once more. “Is that something you wish? To see me?”

Cody shakes his head, shoulders tight. “I’m sorry. I went too far.”

No, you didn’t, Obi-Wan wants to tell him, I want you to see me.

Soon. Probably. As soon as Obi-Wan has removed the screws from his heart and their doubting pressure.

“I think I can help you,” Obi-Wan signs, bullheading through the burgeoning silence. “But I need your help for that.”

“What do you need,” Cody asks, all Commander now that he’s got a mission objective.

“I want to know how you can communicate neurally and who has access to that channel.” He’s been looking into it for months, always ending in front of a Kaminoan wall. He’s at his wits end and now, now, with Bail confirming Palpatine is shuffling credits to the CIS and it’s still only heresy where a court is concerned…

Kamino confirmed only authorized personnel has access to the comm links in the clones’ heads. What if those include the CIS?

Cody blinks in surprise. “General Windu has access to that information.”

Does he? Obi-Wan is beginning to doubt that fact. “Humor me.”

Shoulders go wide, straight, loose. “Protocol dictates that, in case of emergency in an engagement situation, a High General is able to deploy orders directly to a CC-class clone via the Force after initiating with the correct identification.”

The clones are password-locked. Obi-Wan tries very, very hard to keep his expression neutral. “I assume every Commander knows the identification?”

Cody starts to smile, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, ready to playfully lecture Obi-Wan about confidentiality. Obi-Wan can see that, can feel the intention of Cody to do so. Before his eyes sharpen like the back-up blade in the boot holster. “Is there a leak?”

“Not that I’m sure of,” Obi-Wan hurries to sign. “Cody, please, what is the initialization sequence?”

Cody watches him, tracks his every move and twitch and stillness with keen eyes. Obi-Wan lets him, not able to keep a lid on the worry he’s feeling, the Force hushed in absolute and anticipation. “Every Commander knows those words. No one else does. A High General can request it of his Commander. That is what General Windu knows. A Commander takes the words to their grave if they have to.” A built-in failsafe, based on the clones’ loyalty to the Republic. “And the Jedi,” Cody adds with a soft smile. “Maybe we have been trained to follow you but you have proven yourself over and over again. The initialization is—“ Cody’s face twists into confusion as the Force starts— starts to shriek in warning. “Is…”

Shards of glass hurtle towards Obi-Wan, high-pitched tone piercing his eardrums, hack into his thoughts—

“Who are you?”

Obi-Wan hurries, pulls a hand up and projects “Cody, wake”.

.

Cody wakes, blinks. Shakes the cloudy remnants of a dream gone wrong off, as stuck on him, burnt into him as some details of it are.

He looks up when he notices the presence by the training salle entry, smiles up at Obi-Wan, feels his eyes go soft, relaxed.

Obi-Wan stares back at him, mask in place which ups the distant, rumbling intensity of his gaze like an incoming storm. “Thank you,” he signs, and Cody can see the tremors in his fingertips. Blue eyes flick up to the surveillance camera in the ceiling, go back to him.

Cody… remembers. Obi-Wan pushing him behind a destroyed tank during battle, one hand covering the helmet camera while the other had signed “need to talk, no eyes” in battle signs.

He looks to the door again but Obi-Wan is suddenly right in front of him, cradling his face so gently Cody can feel tears prick at his eyes, forehead carefully, with no hesitation and too much meaning coming to rest against his.

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Obi-wan: You look good in that armour Cody: You know where else I'd look good? Obi-wan, zero hesitation: My bed Cody, at the same time: By your side- what?

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Obi-Wan: My team is professional and mature. We-

Wooley: Is lunch ready yet? We´re hungry.

Obi-Wan: Yes, it´s in the breakroom. I bought juice boxes for everyone too.

Boil and Waxer in the background: Kriff yeah! Tooka Nuggets!

Obi-Wan: Be careful they´re still hot!

[clonememesfrikyeah]

[clonememesfrikyeah]

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Can you imagine what must have been like to be part of Krell's clone battalion, what it was like to have him as your general? We know how he's like. Krell doesn't care about the clones' lives. He wins. He's celebrated as a general. The senators and Jedi don't care about the casualties except the money that's going to waste. Krell brings results. They don't see what's behind those numbers.

Imagine a clone battalion that's stripped of all colors except the ones to indicate rank, blank white armor that's too battered to be a shiny's. A clone battalion where names start with CC and CT, where the men all have the same face, same hair. The only thing that differents them from each other are their scars. It's worse than Kamino. The men have learned to keep silent. They know the consequences of speaking up, have executed the ones who do with their own blasters. Who doesn't get court martialled gets reconditioned or decommissioned. Their lives are hard and miserable.

Krell doesn't care about his men except when he can make their lives worse. They don't only have the highest causality count, Krell's battalion is also the one with the most injuries, with the most troopers considered defect (because surely men like Rex or Fives would be declared defect by Krell) and most clones going AWOL. Imagine their pain. They are alone, they are mistreated. Nobody cares about them, they only care about the battles they win, about the cost of the constant replacement of troopers, but nobody cares about them or their pain or who they are. Many aren't even anybody. They believed the Kaminoans, they believe Krell. They are meat droids and everyone they are around thinks the same or gets reconditioned and excluded.

Krell doesn't care about them but he cares about making them believe that they are without worth. Imagine the only reason Krell gets assigned the 501st on Umbara is because his battalion is so decimated that they need to regroup the whole battalion. We also know that the troopers get sent out younger and younger as the war goes on.

Most of Krell's battalion must be nine or eight years old by the time Umbara happens. There is constant replacement through death and decommissioning. The senior troopers are few and become less. The younger clones die earlier because they are surrounded by other inexperienced troopers, because the men didn't have the time to get to know each other, because Krell enjoys to watch the shines die first.

[clonememesfrikyeah]

A clone getting a bad haircut and having an identity crisis