foreverchangingfandomsao3

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Obi-Wan and Cody celebrating pride, their hearts full of love ✨

You can get a high quality print of this piece on my Inprnt ✨

No-pressure tags: @saradika @obiknights @princessxkenobi @journen @foreverchangingfandomsao3

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

the quality got a little messed up, sorry about that

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Cyberpunk Shadow Obi-Wan??

So, if anyone is to blame for this, knock on @charrhylis and @adiduck’s blogs. Not me. Chase’s insanely beautiful Obi-Wan has me chomping since I saw it, and Adi’s new old obsession has led me back to the year 2000.

Blue eyes crinkle above the mask in a smile. The Jedi’s hands flick in quick motions - “I am a Shadow” - but Cody detects how curiously bare wrists and the tips of fingers want to move in more elaborate patterns. He’s seen that in some of his siblings who wax poetic with battle signs.

“General,” Cody nods in greeting and respect.

A reddish eyebrow raises.

He shrugs. “Protocol.”

The Jedi inclines his head. “Fair enough.” He looks over Cody’s shoulder and his whole demeanor changes. The lightsaber floats from the holster while the Jedi signs “Shall we?”.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

The other one was getting long

“What do your gorgeous baby blues see?”

Obi-Wan lets his middle finger speak, earning a chuckle from Quin. “Target, two clicks east,” he signs quick and efficient with one hand. Cody has been showing him the shortcut hand signals the clones have adapted from military and basic sign language. Obi-Wan has, in turn, shown him what one can do with the other hand not occupied with signing.

It has been rather eye opening, over all, how the clones deal with their lot in life.

Their cruel, drenched in suffering life, Obi-Wan thinks, and the leather of his glove squeaks with how hard he’s gripping the edge of the roof.

“Credit for your thoughts.”

Obi-Wan shakes himself out his own mind, focuses back on their mission. “When we’re back on Coruscant,” he signs, is pleased with Quin raising curious brows, “I want you to ask Commander Fox if he’s inclined to share tea with you.”

A pebble floats up from the ground and nails Obi-Wan in the side of his head. “I don’t need you to be my wingman.”

“You need someone with more flirting expertise than I can possibly provide to be your wingman, my friend.” The empty huff of a chuckle escapes him when Quin turns into a cloud of indignation. “I want you to shake him for information. Something isn’t right.”

“Target’s moving, just like planned,” Quin murmurs, keen eyes following the spice dealer. “Can’t you fuck your own Commander for intel? I heard he’s got a great ass from all the droid kicking.”

“He’s very stubborn,” he replies, fiddling the data pad out of his satchel. “Commander Fox is,” he hesitates, which isn’t a planned move, but it’s got Quin’s full attention now, “closer to a source I want to tap.”

And he’s lost Quin’s attention just like that. “Could you stop spinning conspiracies about the Chancellor? He’s a kind old man, beloved by all, bla bla.”

“He’s a politician. And I still don’t know what happened to Anakin—“ Fierce, sweet boy, could definitely hurt a fly. Obi-Wan had been gone for a month and he had come back to Ani tossed and turned by dark falsehoods.

“Depa and the mind healers have done a good job with that kid.”

Still. Coming back to Coruscant after long stretches is like being slowly sniffed out in the Force. His jaw aches like it hasn’t in a decade. “Talk with Fox, please.”

Quin sighs, rolls his neck, and flicks his chin at their target. “Come on, a spice lab is waiting for us.”

Together they step over the ledge, wind and gravity grabbing at them for twenty stories before the Force catches them.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Part 1

Part 2

“We’re losing him!”

“Hold on, Obi-Wan. It’s not your time yet.”

“The infection is eating through the thyroid.”

“Stabilize him!”

“It’ll be alright, little one, don’t cry. Just squeeze my hand.”

“It’s attacking the mandible and sternum. Move, move!”

“It’s going to be alright.”

“Save what you can!”

“Hold on, Obi-Wan. Listen to the Force.”

The tears on Master Qui-Gon’s face looked strange. He had seen him cry before but never over him. It hurt to move his mouth, hurt even more to speak. Hurt— hurt a lot to speak. He wasn’t sure he was actually saying anything. But he tried because Master Qui-Gon looked devastated and Obi-Wan already had broken his heart by choosing to become a Shadow as soon as his return to the Temple was permanent. “The Force is with—“

Obi-Wan opens his eyes. Makes sure the mask is in place.

The rain still hasn’t ceased its steady downpour. He pulls Mace’s robe tight around himself. His own robe, seldom as he uses it, might have been lost on the battlefield where he had dropped it, but semantics. Mace’s spare robe squelches.

Obi-Wan will never be dry again.

Wings snap back into armored plates as the hyperjets power down, and Obi-Wan takes a bit of pleasure watching Cody land silently despite the mass of the clone armor.

“The siege is going well,” Cody says, tapping one of multiple antenna links on his helmet. Obi-Wan smiles under the mask. Quin and Bant have accused him many a times of having weird preferences, but the professionalism and calm control Cody so casually exudes is very, very attractive. The news makes him even more attractive. “Shouldn’t take longer than three months,” Cody continues, optimism apparent even with the vocoder.

Any kind of attraction spurning on Obi-Wan’s wet, frozen body drowns in the rain rather pityfully. “Three months,” he repeats in tap code where he’s gripping the robe.

The helmet turns to him fully. “Yes. It’s going really well.”

Obi-Wan strengthens his resolve to leech off any warmth Cody possesses when they crawl into bed after their shift.

.

“You can’t ever steal my voice,” Cody repeats in a murmur, fingertip stroking over the words on Obi-Wan’s forearm. He looks up to find blue eyes watching him over the mask. “Is that your sense of humor or your defiance speaking?”

The hand where he started tracing the letters moves back and forth, undecided. A little bit of both, then, Cody guesses.

The hand is retracted, flows so naturally into sign language. “Many tried.”

“Tried to steal your voice?” At Obi-Wan’s nod, Cody shuffles up the bed, re-categorizing the scars he’s seen. “No one was ever successful, I’m guessing.”

“Many broken bones on both sides,” is signed with a careless shrug before Obi-Wan turns serious, determination and the even more familiar defiance spinning Cody close. “I will only ever be silent of my own choosing.”

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

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 feel like). 

(I’m loving that so many peeps have adopted the rules including artist heh 💜)

Tagged by @omaano and @marbled-polecat thank you both 💜💜💜

This is for Loud. - the cyberpunk aesthetics AU that follows mute Shadow!Obi-Wan around the Galaxy being a spy and falling in love with the GAR’s highest decorated clone and second in command to Master Windu.

Cody’s theme is War Of My Demons by AleXZavesa.

The last lines were actually the paint stripes so Cody is recognizable XD This is just throwing ideas at the wall how to cyberpunk the clone armor. Here’s a snip of the snippet:

“Yes.”

Cody crosses his arms, one of the cameras in his visor rotating as if in a huff. He’s standing casually but securely. Casual enough that he’s probably ready to sprint, dodge, roll, jump, dive at a microscopic moment’s notice.

“I apologize,” Obi-Wan signs, perhaps widening his eyes into an innocent expression very slightly. “I did not mean to offend.”

“You didn’t offend me,” Cody says, his lovely voice distorted with the vocoder. “You asked if all the antennas were truly necessary. I replied.”

Replied with a long, static silence followed by a single word.

Obi-Wan struggles not to smile. He inclines his head. “Very well.”

No pressure tagging (but we all know I lovingly pressure you :D): @elwenyere @adiduck @foreverchangingfandomsao3 @tired-bshocked @lttrsfrmlnrrgby @other-peoples-coats @bluemaskedkarma and @chiliger

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Loud.

Part one two three four

“Yes.”

Cody crosses his arms, one of the cameras in his visor rotating as if in a huff. He’s standing casually but securely. Casual enough that he’s probably ready to sprint, dodge, roll, jump, dive at a microscopic moment’s notice.

“I apologize,” Obi-Wan signs, perhaps widening his eyes into an innocent expression very slightly. “I did not mean to offend.”

“You didn’t offend me,” Cody says, his lovely voice distorted with the vocoder. “You asked if all the antennas were truly necessary. I replied.”

Replied with a long, static silence followed by a single word.

Obi-Wan struggles not to smile. He inclines his head. “Very well.”

.

“Each of them serves a purpose.”

Obi-Wan nods sagely.

.

“Having one signal receptor isolated from the main system makes it possible my suit can scan for hostile or foreign frequencies without the threat of corruption a pointed hack through this antenna could provide.”

Possibly the longest sentence Cody has ever spoken in Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan slowly swallows the nutrition gruel the mess has provided for him. The artificial trachea and esophagus need replacing soon, he can feel it.

“Also,” Cody continues, drinking his soup and eating the accompanying sandwich.

Obi-Wan attentively listens to explanations going in depth how Cody theorized a web of communication arrays and double-back-up frequencies, and the best slicers and techs across the clones made it a reality. “Better than I could have ever imagined,” he adds, pride making his eyes shine and soft. “The parameters they took into consideration…”

Cody’s voice washes over Obi-Wan like a gentle tide, carrying him to the shore, the ebb and flow.

.

“It’s crucial I remain in contact with my troops even in a planet-wide attack or defense operation.”

Obi-Wan nods to that, head pillowed on Cody’s chest.

“Sleep,” he taps but he’s asleep before he can make it to the last tap.

.

“The strongest short-range comm in the whole GAR. Every Commander has one of these now.”

It’s a little robust antenna, hidden in a pauldron compartment.

“It has saved our lives a tremendous amount of times,” Mace nods, letting the steam of the tea wash over his face in visible bliss.

Now that Mace is obviously in on reprimanding Obi-Wan and his innocent if amusement-fueled question, Obi-Wan possibly has to apologize again.

.

“It’s less about signals but a bundling of wireless energy to support the tech in a worst case scenario,” Cody explains.

Obi-Wan’s legs dangle in the air, Cody’s hands - secure gentle Force-loving inescapable - holding him up against the wall.

Obi-Wan nods with a weak smile behind the mask and swallows.

The helmet tips down. Up. “You like that.”

It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to be miffed. Cody sounds too disbelieving. “I like being held,” he signs with a shrug and raised brows.

He slings his legs around Cody’s waist and hauls him and, subsequently, the massive clone armor close. Kit and his rigorous pilates only deserve the highest of praise.

“I can hold you for hours,” Cody says over his blush giving his cheeks a rosy hue. It’s too earnest to be a flirt, too drenched in a careful offering.

.

“I can hold you for hours,” Cody gasps, their sweat mingling. “But I know to let you go.”

.

“Let go,” Obi-Wan signs, struggles against the grip, struggles to catch his breath even with the mask. He circles his flat hand over his chest again. Countless times, not that it has made a difference. “Please.”

The fight has weakened him. Sparring with Cody has let him glimpse what lies behind the softened blows, the possibilities of destruction of Cody not holding back. It’s worse than he could have ever imagined.

“Please.”

“Good soldiers follow orders,” the vocoder grates out, the blank wide eye dripping blood staring at him from the destroyed visor claws a shiver down Obi-Wan’s back.

Cody rips off his mask.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Loud.

part one two three four five

“Why are you buttering me up, Master?” Obi-Wan signs, taking another careful sip of the cookie shake.

Master Tholme unfolds his hands on the table, cane resting against his leg. “Because I understand that you might not want to participate in this mission,” he signs back. It must be one of those days where he doesn’t want to talk. Obi-Wan understands and lets the silence engulf them. “But the Council and I feel that this is where you need to be.”

.

“Master,” Obi-Wan signs and bows.

“Hello, Obi-Wan.”

It’s not the first time he’s seen Qui-Gon again after Melidaan’s parting gift almost killed him. Of course they’ve seen each other. Qui-Gon had been there for him while he recovered, had hovered over Master Tholme’s shoulder like a shadow.

“A particularly annoying shadow,” Master Tholme had commented drily back then. “Which is funny, considering.“

Obi-Wan opens his arms and Qui-Gon’s tall frame closes around him. Maybe a queezing too tight but… but that doesn’t matter. “How are you,” he taps on a broad shoulder.

He’s abruptly let go. Not pushed back, thankfully.

“I am well, thank you.” Qui-Gon falls silent.

Obi-Wan has forced himself to stop trying to make the awkwardness between them less uncomfortable by the time he turned sixteen and Master Tholme sat him down to explain why he should let Qui-Gon come to grips with everything that has happened between them on his own until Qui-Gon reaches out to him.

“How are you?” And the caring and heartbreak lingering in Qui-Gon’s eyes is too much.

“I feel prepared to accompany you on this mission.”

It had been Qui-Gon who had taught him sign language in different iterations useful across the galaxy, before and later. Tholme has taught him tap code, after.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Qui-Gon says, eyes on his long padawan braid.

.

Meeting Anakin feels… weird in the Force.

“So you don’t talk? Ever?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes.

“You don’t want to or you can’t?” the boy asks before his eyes widen. “Both are fine!”

“Cannot,” he signs carefully, settling on an Outer Rim dialect.

“Oh, ok!”

It’s the beginning of a never ending nightmare. Tatooine. Naboo. The desperate attempts to stop a war from happening.

He keeps to the background, inconspicuous and invisible.

Which is the only reason he ends up in the plasma refinery complex.

.

“It’ll be alright, little one,” Qui-Gon murmurs, gentle fingers wiping tears away before they reach the mask. “Just squeeze my hand.”

“Master,” he taps, hiccups threatening to disrupt something in his throat.

“Take care of the boy.”

.

So he does.

He brings Anakin back to the Temple, watches over his nightmares in silence.

He kneels as Master Tholme cuts his braid.

He explains to the Council what he thinks.

Anakin is bright. Smart and a beacon in the Force. He’s older than usual, granted. But his connection to the Force is palpably vast and potentially dangerous if he isn’t trained to handle that connection. He’s safer in the Temple where they can watch over him and teach him.

The Council agrees.

.

He introduces Anakin to Depa.

Her dry wit has the boy relaxing. Her no-nonsense attitude is a guiding light, a steady framework he can lean on and count on.

Depa delights in showing him the Temple, the opportunities to learn and try out new experiences.

.

Shadow work piles up and suddenly Obi-Wan is running around the galaxy trying to put out fires.

When he’s slumped in the back door of an abandoned factory in the shady part of an Outer Rim planet, struggling to breathe and feeling like he’s dying, lightsaber in a death grip, he makes the decision to return to the Temple. The mask has to change or he will die because he is out of breath. Unacceptable.

The technicians look at him chagrined and apologetic, explain that this is all they can do at the moment, maybe he can take it a bit easier?

“No, you need to adjust the valves on—“ a small voice peeps up from behind his shoulder.

Obi-Wan has been aware Anakin is clinging to his back like a monkey bear. He’s ignored the looks he’s gotten on the way to the tech complex.

“Have at it, then,” he signs.

Anakin looks at him like he’s personally chosen every star in the galaxy as he hands over the mask.

.

“An order.”

“A strong suggestion,” Mace corrects.

“Call it what it is,” Obi-Wan signs, cutting through the air with his hands he’s so furious. “Chancellor Palpatine has no business wanting to spend time with Anakin.”

Mace sighs, leans back in the chair. “I’m aware, Obi-Wan.” He taps his fingers against the armrest but he’s releasing energy, focusing his thoughts, not code. “How are you feeling?”

The renewed esophagus has him out of the mission count for a bit yet, he’s slowly weaned off the artificial nutrition. Overall, he’s starting to feel a bit restless.

“Perhaps you want to enjoy Coruscant’s scenery while you’re here?” Mace asks, a twinkle in his eye. “Though I beg you to not get into trouble,” he adds with a frown. “Too much trouble, I mean. I forgot for a second who I was talking to.”

Spying on the Chancellor is not on Bant’s list of approved activities but what she doesn’t know…

Obi-Wan touches his chin and brings his hand forward.

.

“So you can either sign in the dark or write tap code with these gloves. You can adjust the brightness and still sneak around.”

“Thank you, Ani.” It’s one of the best gifts he’s ever had the honor of receiving. It solves a lot of problems on missions. He hugs the boy close and feels swept up in the thoughtfulness. “I don’t sneak.”

“You totally do and it’s so wizard!”

.

“You were supposed to be my Master!”

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

LOUD.

part one two three four five

Obi watches over him like a shadow the first few weeks he’s in the Temple.

Anakin will wake from a memory-nightmare and his protector will sit on the windowsill, bathed in the ever changing lights.

His warm hand will stroke over Anakin’s hair, soothing and more comforting than words could ever be.

He will offer Anakin to sit with him, watching Coruscant through the transparisteel. And Anakin will inevitably end up cuddled up to Obi’s front, falling asleep with Obi’s heartbeat under his ear, the breath in his lungs.

.

The identities of the Shadows are almost considered inviolable. Due to the nature of their chosen path, secrecy is a tenet they adhere to strictly.

The Council knows who they are, and maybe there are one or two Council members who are uncomfortable with how close to the Dark Shadows operate. But as a whole the necessity is understood.

The Jedi stand and fight for the Light, the balance, for bringing peace and help to those who need it. A calling like that inevitably brings enemies and the need to even the playing field.

“Beacon of Light,” Obi-Wan repeats, hands moving in disbelief.

And code names. It was only a matter of time before he got his codename.

“Fitting, we think it is,” Grandmaster Yoda says, amusement twinkling in his eyes and frog tea.

“Of course, Grandgrandmaster Yoda,” Obi-Wan signs, slipping in the extra grand flawlessly, which results in the sign turning grand to ancient. If Yoda gets cheeky with him, he can very well retribute.

Master Tholme coughs a laugh into the sleeve of his robe.

“Congratulations, Master Kenobi,” Master Windu says warmly and Obi-Wan ducks his head, loses the fight against the blush spreading across his nose. “Master Tholme has prepared a briefing package for you where you can access all relevant information. Like the code name for the Temple here on Coruscant.”

Master Tholme inclines his head in agreement, solemn twist to his lips Obi-Wan knows not to trust. “Old Folks’ Home.”

Obi-Wan wishes he wore the mask so he can wheeze in peace.

.

Jedi move different from the people Anakin has seen so far in his life. They flow, they’re carried by a breeze. Gravity doesn’t have a hold on them unless it suits them. They move like they’re one with nature, detached from sentient-made life and creations.

And then there are a few, like Obi, who move with the undercurrent, with the wind just above the ground. Who vanish with the shadows just to reappear around a corner.

They’re not stalking the enormous hallways or sneaking around like bandits.

Anakin doesn’t think they’re doing it consciously, reflecting attention away from themselves as if they aren’t even there.

Obi’s friend Quin moves like that, too, when he forgets himself, somehow managing to disappear while walking in the middle of the floor.

Quin is a strange one.

But Obi-Wan…

Anakin bites his lips to keep from giggling, hands gripping the banister tightly where he’s peeking. He doesn’t think they’ve noticed him yet.

The training salle they’re practicing in is huge, obstacles dotting the ground for them to leap over or off, hide and take the other off-guard.

It seems impossible, the way they fight and lure each other into traps. Obi is especially good at that. He’s directing Quin into exhaustion he can’t defend himself in anymore, and it’s amazing to watch.

Nothing and no one can beat Obi-Wan. He’s too clever for that.

“I will never stop calling you that, Beacon of Light,” Quin laughs when he jumps out of a roll and onto his feet.

Obi-Wan signs something, his back to Anakin which is aggravating.

He’d change position but both Jedi move around too much.

Quin shakes his head. “Shut up, you know it suits you.” He takes the lightsaber off his belt. “I bet you blushed like a meloroon in season.”

Obi changes into a blue glowing blur in answer.

.

Obi-Wan wants to know where he went wrong. What he did to— He thought the connection between him and Cody—

His vision is swimming, oxygen mask placed over his nose and mouth pumping more than air into his system.

His fingers weakly tap the message on the receiver of the comm device he broke off Cody’s suit during the fight. “Beacon. Light. Force.” Hope and the Force sing to him, even as his doing is detected.

Cody roughly rolls him onto his side, takes the device out of his hand where he had hidden it behind his back.

“The Emperor wants you alive, traitor.”

He’s removed his helmet. The one Obi-Wan had destroyed while it was still on Cody’s head. Just… Cody’s whole demeanor flipped to strange and other. He hadn’t made for his blaster during the fight. Shooting inside a rescue shuttle in the void of space at least still seemed like a bad idea even with Cody’s suit keeping him alive in a scenario like that.

But Obi-Wan couldn’t take that chance. So he’d smashed Cody’s face against a doorframe, breaking the visor and any choice Cody could make in killing Obi-Wan by sudden oxygen depletion.

Of course the fight took care to still break his lungs open, making him gasp for air even before Cody held him down and ripped the mask off.

Lying on his side is easier but the room has decided it is done with him and goes dark.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

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 feel like). 

I got tagged by the cheeky @anstarwar 💜

Rough sketch of cyberpunk!Quin for the Loud AU. The last line was the lightsaber light. I like to have that done during sketching so I can just move it around instead of working with a pencil line.

No pressure tags! @cacodaemonia @merlyn-bane @omaano @razzbberry @hawthornsword @happybean17 @snowywinterevenings @jedi-enthusiast @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and everyone who wants to! Come on! Show off your creations!

@anstarwar gets the full pressure tags so you show moar.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

LOUD.

part one two three four five six seven

“How do you not trip,” Obi-Wan signs, eyes moving in disbelief over all the straps hanging off Quinlan. “Or get caught on everything in existence.”

Quinlan inspects his nails, noting with dismay the paint starting to chip in some places. “That’s the difference between you and me, my friend. I can make this look effortless.”

.

“Please,” he thinks, boulder lodged in his throat. Grits his teeth and pulls harder on the strap. “Please, don’t fight it. I’m sorry.”

I understand.

It’s as silent as a plasma blast to his head. A whisper through the Force and he wants to weep.

Lora finally, finally loses their grip on consciousness, their connection to the Force fighting Quinlan, and, with a vicious twist by Quin’s hands, on life.

“Impressive,” Ventress says, bringing her hands together in a slow clap. “Jedi Shadows really are made of sterner stuff than the rest. Well,” she grins, kicks the Nautolan’s body dismissively, “some more than others, at least.”

The urge to throw up rises steadily.

He’s delivered Lora right to her. He’s broken the Code. All of it. Everything. He’s broken everything. Proving his loyalty is pounding bolts in his head and being. He’s sacrificed a friend, a Jedi, for a mission that may or may not be successful. To be accepted by Dooku’s circle and destroy the CIS from within. He’s killing to bring peace and it’s absurd.

If this works, he can’t ever tell Obi-Wan how he got the intel. If this even works and he doesn’t lose himself along the way…

The Galaxy is drenched in despair and he can’t stay afloat. He can’t do this. He can’t— He needs the others. He needs their Light to find his own, the Temple, their home, around him. He needs to go home—

“Litte Shadow, tell me, who was your Master?”

He’s lost already, hasn’t he.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

*Sliding credits over to you for more of your shadow Jedi Obi-Wan series because it's my new and current obsession*

:D Okay, this is rough but! Here you go!

“I’m here,” Mace says, reaching out to him. “We’re all here.”

Obi-Wan gasps, breaching through the water air light.

They embrace him, pull him closer and lending him strength.

Gentle claws push the hair out of his face. Master Koon. “Where are you, child?”

It takes too long to orient himself, priorities convulsing and twisting. “Coruscant. Almost there,” he taps, the Force carrying him upwards, closer to them as they all pull him closer. He’s so grateful they received his message and searched for him in the Force and their connection to each other. They’re his family—

Cody betrayed him.

It screams inside him, outside him.

“Something is wrong,” he manages to project. Cody betrayed him.

It hurts, hurts so deeply, throbbing spikes driven into his lungs. But there must be a reason. There must be a reason. Palpatine must hold something over Cody’s head, must force his hand with threats.

Cody’s loyalty is defined by his sense of duty, his unbreakable will to see the clones reach the other side of the war, by the people he loves.

Whatever Palpatine threatens him with… Obi-Wan will find a way to help him.

“Obi-Wan.”

He lets them sink into his memory, too weak to project or sign.

“Obi-Wan.”

They all will help. The Jedi will stop this war and put an end to Palpatine—

“Obi-Wan!”

.

“Now, who are you?”

.

The walls slam down around him, rushing by him up and down, caving him in, and he cries out, chokes out, as the Force is cut out of him.

Cody lets his hand fall back to the cot, Force suppression cuff clinking against the railing.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

LOUD.

part one two three four five six seven eight

“So you thought sacrificing a Jedi was the,” the deep breath Obi-Wan has to take to remain calm shakes through him like rolling thunder, “right choice?”

“I,” Quinlan starts and stops. Hunches his shoulders and disappears into himself. “Yes,” he whispers after a long pause.

So it wasn’t the only choice but the right one. Oh, Quin, he wants to ask, when did it start?

.

“Walk with me, Master Vos.”

Some members of the Council huff in annoyance. But once in a while he’s got to throw his weight around as Head of the Order and this is one of such times.

Yoda and Depa wear the exact same expression on their faces which, he admits, is disconcerting whenever it happens. They know what he’s doing using Quinlan’s rank rather than his name only.

Obi-Wan looks ready to protest when they push through the Council Chamber’s doors but Mace quiets him with a raised brow. Obi-Wan’s eyes bore into him, so distressed Mace can see the plans forming in his gaze should the Council come to a decision he doesn’t agree with. And then he seems to just vanish. It’s only after, when Mace looks back to the spot Obi-Wan stood, that he realizes he was watching his step for a split second and it was enough for Obi-Wan to disappear.

Shadows.

“He won’t make any…trouble,” Quinlan starts and tapers off. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “forgot who I was talking about.”

Mace nods to that, pushes Obi-Wan’s impression to Depa through their bond. She will keep an eye on him.

It’s a bit of a walk to the Room Of A Thousand Fountains. Perhaps a closer destination would have been more favorable but Quinlan is visibly on a hair trigger.

They walk in silence.

Mace doesn’t know if that’s what Quinlan needs now that he’s an adult, time to gather himself and his thoughts. Or if the quiet winds him up more.

A look behind and a gentle hand through the Force prove no further insight, and he lets it rest until they arrive.

“When I was young,” he says, crossing his legs and wiggling around until he is cushioned by grass and moss, motioning for Quinlan to do the same, “I wanted to be a Shadow.”

It has the desired effect. Grey eyes fly up to his face as the rest of Quinlan’s body topples into the moss.

“Of course, I didn’t know that’s who they were,” he continues.

Shadows had always been an open secret in the Order. It was taught to keep the knowledge about the mere existence of Shadows within the confines of the Temples. No one confirmed their identity for their own safety but knowing what to look for let him spot them.

Not an easy feat at all. One which had him believe that his observance would bring him favor once it was his time to connect with a Master.

Shadows moved differently, saw the world differently. They moved, somehow, behind the Force, through the waves of it. They observed its entirety with knowledge Mace had longed for. They connected with the Force in a way that seemed so other. They were the watchers of the Force, looking for signs of rising Darkness.

It all had seemed rather fetching, to Mace. Silent fighters against the Darkness, unacknowledged but revered. Helping in ways his youthful mind had seen as… active, during peace times. Keeping the Force in balance by rooting out the Dark.

“Master Tholme had been very, very annoyed with me,” Mace recounts to a bewildered Quinlan. “I loved the seeming theatrics of being a Shadow,” he confesses and watches in amusement as Quinlan blinks at him in disbelief, mouthing “theatrics?” to himself. “In the end, that was not the path for me.”

It had been difficult to accept that. He had struggled. But looking back it had been the right choice for him.

It had led him to Vapaad.

“I felt I was still fighting the Dark,” he explains, “by using it against itself.”

Quinlan pulls up his legs, hugs them to his chest, and Mace is reminded of the Padawan who had watched him train from the shadows. Copying his moves, trying to make them make sense for himself, before he approached Mace and asked him to teach the form. “I know you’re better than me,” he mutters into his knee.

Mace stifles the urge to interrupt and correct, and lets Quinlan say what he needs to.

“You withstood the Dark. I Fell as soon as it got hard.” He says it casually, shrugs a shoulder in defiance, but the gravity, the enormity crashes over him soon enough. Cages him in, and his eyes go wide, go blank. “I Fell.”

There’s always a moment of utter helplessness when you see someone you watched growing up, who is dear to you, shatter into pieces. Seeing Quinlan break apart like this, it tears at Mace’s heart.

He stretches out his presence in the Force. Holding out a hand in comfort should it be needed.

Quinlan latches on like a drowning man and soon Mace has his arms closed around the shaking body, sobs wrecking through Quinlan.

.

“What will the Council decide?” Quinlan asks his boots.

“There are options,” Mace offers after a second. “You can leave,” he says and holds onto his calm as Quinlan flinches. “Given your situation, we will offer the help you need. But we won’t stand in your way if you decide to leave the Order.”

He counts the choices, and the consequences. If Quinlan stays, he is forbidden from taking on a Padawan until he’s deemed stable. He will lose his place with the Shadows. No more missions. Not until the Order can trust him again at least.

“Oh, if that’s all,” Quinlan says flippantly, voice cracking around despair.

“It won’t be easy,” Mace allows, “but you know us, you know your family. Regain trust in yourself and we soon shall follow.”

.

“She wanted to know who my Master was,” Quinlan says, playing with one of the many straps hanging off his clothes. “It was the moment I woke up from what I’ve been doing.”

After killing Lora. Mace isn’t sure if Quinlan was there at the burial.

“I told her and gave her the coordinates.”

Which is a surprise to Mace. “Master Beyaz has been with the Force for three years now.”

The slightest of smirks tugs at Quinlan’s mouth. “She died after Dooku left so he doesn’t know. His intel is outdated and Ventress is on the hunt for a dead Jedi while we know exactly where she is.”

Clever boy.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Does shadow Obi-Wan use a different lightsaber form from Soresu?

He’s definitely still using Soresu.

I’m trying to get my thoughts in some semblance of order here but Soresu is just so perfectly Obi-Wan no matter what kind of AU label is slapped on him?

Soresu is defense. Which might seem weak. Defense can have the aftertaste of (almost) losing.

But defense means protecting. Being the forefront, the crossing line. A strong defense is nigh impossible to break through. And Soresu makes an art form of it so its user can defend longer than humanly possible.

It’s also leading your opponent by the nose, luring them and the calculated exhausting of them before a punctuated strike tears them down.

There’s been enough Sith to also use Soresu as their preferred form.

How Obi-Wan uses it in this verse might even seem dark to some. There might have been moments in fights where Obi-Wan exhilarated in his opponent’s realization that they weren’t the predator in this game. That the mouse turned out to be the cat.

Which led to a lot of meditation and questioning himself.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

LOUD.

part one two three four five six seven eight nine

“You’ve got something there,” Quin says, gesturing vaguely at his own shoulder.

“I’m aware,” Obi-Wan signs. “It’s some sort of monkey lizard fungus.”

The monkey lizard fungus giggles into his shoulder.

Quin nods grimly. “I heard the only cure is to placate it with sweets and hope for the best.”

Anakin precariously leans over, heels accidentally digging into still bruised ribs.

Obi-Wan bites his lips behind the collar but of course Quin immediately detects his movements turning stiff.

Quin holds out an arm, flexing his bicep with wiggling eyebrows. It has the desired effect and Anakin jumps from Obi-Wan, swinging around the elbow before hooking his knees over Quin’s arm.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” Quin strains out.

They walk to one of the mess halls that’s open around the clock and mainly offers food and beverages to those clinging with teeth to their sanity during exam season.

One of the cramming Padawans looks up from their dozen holo books displaying graphs, and squints at them. “Master Vos, there’s something growing out of your arm?”

“Monkey lizard fungus,” Obi-Wan signs, hiding a smile behind his collar at the Padawan nodding to themselves as if that makes perfect sense.

“What’s with them?” Anakin asks, looking at the sleep deprived tableau and hoisting himself up and swinging one leg over Quin’s shoulder.

“This is your future,” Quin says gravely and Obi-Wan is catapulted to melting stone fire Darkness “You were supposed to be my Master!” yellow familiar eyes from a smoking alive corpse and the grief is ripping him apart “—see once you take your first assignments. The only places you’ll be is either here or the Archives.”

It’s been years since he last had a vision. It’s staggering, his heart thumping in his chest like a clock ticking down the inevitable countdown. But it’s not.

He looks over to Anakin who’s already watching back with wide eyes, the fear in his hands gripping onto Quinlan. “I won’t let it come to that,” he promises, fingers thudding together heavily but he’s still shaking off the vision and Anakin’s fear is a taste in the air by now. He can’t not make promises he only hopes he can keep.

Quinlan is silent during their exchange, gloved hands keeping hold of Anakin. The calculating look in his eyes a guarantee Obi-Wan is going to get cornered later.

.

“Do you like Depa being your Master?”

Let it be said, paranoia is a common infliction amongst Shadows.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin sighs, voice breaking with puberty and annoyance. “Depa is wizard. She’s amazing even though she’s signed me up to all these classes.”

Obi-Wan looks over all the models, plans, and concepts with added calculations. There’s a data pad displaying language modules and another proclaiming the joys of agriculture. “It’s almost all in the engineering field,” he signs.

“Which makes her so wizard. You’d never have me taking up gardening though,” Anakin adds sullenly.

Don’t yearn for things I cannot give you, Obi-Wan has thought a lot in the past few years as the Galaxy seems to slowly steep in Darkness.

“Knowing what can poison you is important,” he signs, feeling restless and helpless. The mission he’s finished two cycles ago may still reside in his bones.

“I’ll just bite back,” Anakin says, tongue sticking out as he connects wires to ports. He presses a button and the thing he’s been tinkering with since before Obi-Wan left starts to purr smoothly. “Now she can even juice cocadooms,” he says, satisfaction purring just as smoothly in his voice.

“Well done.”

“I know,” Anakin responds airily and swivels around to face Obi-Wan fully. “You’re lurking in the shadows again so let’s get this tradition over with: Depa is an awesome Master and maybe I sometimes wish you’d have chosen me but,” he adds loudly when Obi-Wan lifts his hands to protest, “I also sometimes daydream Master Tiin had chosen me because he’s got his own modded Delta-7.”

The paranoia settles down as Anakin waxes over how wicked the new wing box skins and sensor fusions are, no, truly, you should see them, Obi-Wan!