Anthony end art dump because I forgot I can post art here✨
here’s a before and after for Anthony in the end game v
And a bonus obie just cuz
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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.”
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