#star wars clone wars

[noirrart]

Fox and some office Tookas! I felt like drawing some animals, and I love these silly-looking critters.

[getooine]

Another WIP shot ~

Didn’t mean to leave this so long but alas life has been very busy…

Anyway hopefully will be finished with it soon once I master painting alien planet cliff faces ig

[vogelfreyh]

Rex for @vikushat 💖🫶

[tobi-rx]

Something I made for May the 4th (aka Star Wars day).

Late posting it to Tumblr, but Clone Wars! ObiwanKenobi as diplomatic rep. Of the Galactic Republic & Jedi Order to the leader of the Autobot Faction of Cybertronians, OptimusPrime anyone?

They’re both so tragic. Both generals in a war who would rather live in an era of peace

Two guys who’s best friend has/will betray them and both are good at war but hate war, and said war will destroy their people

Both are symbols of hope to their people in their respective stories

Both were more reckless in their younger years and both have self destructive tendencies and a push to perfection despite feeling quite the opposite.

Optimus Prime who is supposed to be the best of the cybertronians.

Obi-Wan Kenobi who is said to be the model Jedi

I think they’d get along :)

[siannoyam]

He caught a pike!

He went on a vacation with his buir..❤️

[therainjumper]

The original Echo guys!

[st4r-t3ars]

Corrie things

[wife-to-ct9904]

It’s a writing day for me! Cody tagged along as my motivational coach😂🧡

[maisy7567]

Happy Father’s Day!!!

(Jedi master Plo Koon and his little ‘Soka).

[taskmasterxyz]

Rex, Ahsoka, and Obi Wan after watching Anakin catastrophically fuck up in VC (I love these fucking dumbasses ASKDGHASDKLAJDS)

[lilithjc]

[noirrart]

Cinder going on a stroll :)

[triple-a-artist]

“And we’re going to serve exactly what your are WHICH IS CUNT”

Oc on the right is Lady created by @skeletons-eat :b

[rivershyperfixations]

More silly clone doodles. I love Thorn and Fox sm

From this

[vogelfreyh]

The quiet torment Sykho still endures, the phantom pain left behind by the scars from Kessel.

He hates everything about it. The helplessness, the vulnerability it forces him to show. But Ti’ad never sees it as weakness, quite the opposite. And whenever the pain returns, she knows how to ease it, without a word.

And he loves her more for that than he could ever put into words.

Sykho & Ti‘ad are my Star Wars OCs - (Character sheets | Spice and Ruin

Story under the cut! ⬇️

The cantina had quieted hours ago. Only the low murmur of distant generators and the occasional creak of shifting metal broke the silence now. Their room was modest, just a bed, a shuttered window, and a flickering wall panel that bathed the walls in a dim amber glow. It wasn’t much, but it was safe for the night. Or safe enough.

Sykho sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, his hands locked together between his knees. He was shirtless, his breathing steady but too shallow to be restful. In the low light, the harsh contours of the scars down the right side of his body stood out starkly. They were deep, discolored even under his skin’s pale tone, etched from the crown of his skull all the way down his neck, shoulder, ribs, and chest. Scars from a place he rarely spoke of. Kessel.

He sat still, but inside, the pain pulsed - phantom pain, cruel and senseless. It gnawed under the scar tissue, lit up his nerves like fire. The worst part was the unpredictability. Some nights it let him sleep. Some nights it felt like molten glass sliding under his skin.

Ti’ad stood in the doorway for a moment, watching. She saw the way his shoulder blades tensed, the flicker of pain in the corners of his eyes even though he kept his face turned away. He hated showing it. Always had. But she had learned long ago to read the truth in the quiet.

“You’re in pain again,” she said gently, crossing the room.

Sykho didn’t look at her. His voice caught for a second, then steadied. “No.” But the lie fell apart on his tongue. After a pause, he exhaled and gave a shallow nod, the truth sinking in the space between them. His voice was flat. Automatic. But when she came closer and knelt on the bed beside him, he couldn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t have to. She already knew.

Ti’ad sat beside him, her touch was slow, deliberate. She reached up, her fingers tracing the edge of the scar that curved from his temple down across his cheekbone. The skin there was thick, uneven, long healed but never truly forgotten. His breath hitched.

“Ti…,” he murmured.

Her touch moved lower, down the side of his neck, across his collarbone. She paused as her fingers skimmed the angry scar tissue along his chest. He tensed beneath her hand, every instinct telling him to flinch, to brace for the pain. But there was none. Only her familiar warmth.

But when her head bowed and her lips gently kissed the scars he hated most, the long, jagged cut that had nearly killed him, his composure cracked. The dull, angry pulse under his skin began to fade, each heartbeat losing its edge as her touch quieted the torment. Like water over flame. The tightness in his jaw, the rigid set of his spine, the breath he’d been holding for what felt like hours, all of it unraveled in a single exhale.

She felt it too, the way his whole body slowly eased under her. There was no pity in her gaze, only tenderness.

Sykho let out a breath, one hand lifting to rest against her back. The other followed, wrapping around her waist as he gently pulled her into him. She shifted, curling into him, her cheek pressed against his chest just above the deepest scar. Her hands remained where they’d been, grounding him. He held her tightly, his forehead against her hair, his eyes closed. This was the only medicine that ever worked.

He wanted to say something. But he couldn’t. Because there were no words for what she gave him in these moments. She saw the wreckage in him and didn’t look away. That was enough. That was everything.