Definitely one of my most favorite pieces that I've ever done.
Sith Obi-Wan is LIFE! and death...
You may call him Darth Vara.
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Some of you may recall this illustration from another account with another signature. I assure you, I've drawn it, it belongs to me and I can prove it. If you are interested in the drama, feel free to write me a note, otherwise simply enjoy.
October 27th- "I don't want to hurt you." @sithobiwanevent
Please tap for quality!!
Disclaimer: This is not the Sithywan from yesterday's post, they just uh.. have the same design. And I actually drew this comic first xD
This is from my own Sith!Obi-wan AU! Where Maul is a Jedi, and Obi-wan was Dooku's padawan. Obi-wan follows Dooku out of the Order, they fake his death, and he becomes Darth Vain, a mysterious, masked figure that spreads fear and chaos for the "greater good." AU rambles below!
Oh my GODDDD this took so long! I really thought I was going to do rendering shortcuts for this piece, but I wanted it to be Dramatic and Extra.
A little context! Because this AU lives rent free in my head:
Maul and Obi-wan were best friends (and gay for each other) when growing up in the Temple together. When Obi-wan "died", Maul found it hard to move on, and so threw himself into training Anakin and finding Vain. He has a conspiracy theory board, complete with string, in their shared dorm and everything.
Maul has been looking for Vain for ages at this point. He's training Anakin, but more than that, became obsessed with the man who killed his master (Qui-gon). The timeline is a little switched, in that Dooku left the Jedi Order before Qui-Gon died, but the rest is pretty role-swapped.
Of course he never recognized Obi-wan's force presence during their many encounters, but seeing his face finally makes him realize that his friend is alive. And worse than he ever was.
The Things To Which Fate Binds Us plz :DDD we love a time travel fic!
This is another slow going one. If you want to sample the short version, a lot of people have liked A Different Phantom Menace. So far I’ve barely gotten to the point of Sidious doing his ritual to try to age up his erstwhile kindergarten-age apprentice, and everything has been from his POV. After that will come Ben’s.
Here’s a snippet from the beginning, though.
Arriving on Naboo brought about the expected amount of speculation as to why the planet’s elegant junior Senator was accompanied by a scruffy child. Thankfully, Sheev already had a story prepared. After all, Nabooian high society had been questioning his unmarried, childless state for years.
“It pleases us that you have taken an heir,” King Yorum, the current elected monarch, said stiffly, staring down at Sheev and Obi-Wan, who had been bathed, groomed, and dressed in a flattering black child’s robe prior to his presentation.
Sheev bowed, his polite, insipidly pleasant mask firmly in place. “I am honored to present my ward to Your Majesty. I believe young Obi-Wan will be an asset to House Palpatine, once he recovers from the ordeal from which I rescued him.”
When any of his acquaintances had asked, Sheev had been purposely vague about the exact circumstances in which he found Obi-Wan. He touted him as an orphan who had been moments from death, which Sheev had of course heroically saved him from, but he kept details sparse. The more his so-called peers made up in their own minds about the boy’s circumstances prior to becoming his ward, the better.
The painted King on the throne made a show of graciously greeting Obi-Wan, and then they were dismissed. It was as much as the new scion of a minor noble house warranted, no matter that the head of said house was a Senator. That was the way that Sheev preferred things, though. He didn’t want Obi-Wan to draw too much attention. Not yet. There would be time for that, once he became civilized and was trained in hiding in plain sight.
Sheev bundled Obi-Wan into the enclosed speeder he kept in Theed to make the trek to the Lake Country. On the way he stopped to purchase a nanny droid. There was not enough time to properly vet a sentient nanny, so a droid would have to suffice until Sheev found the proper sort. They would require a certain fortitude to be part of his household.
Obi-Wan remained silent the entire ride, simply staring outside the speeder at the scenery. Sheev had reprimanded him the one time on the ship that he had asked an unprompted question. There might be time for that later, when he was older, but his duty was to learn now.
The scolding had been accompanied by a sharp jab of anger in the Force, to reiterate the lesson. Sheev considered it a positive sign that the child waited to be spoken to after that. Fear curdled around him in the Force, but not enough to completely extinguish his curiosity if the way he looked at everything around him was any indication. That, too, was a good sign. His apprentice would need a balance of fear, anger, intelligence, and wit in order to take the place he intended for him.
As they approached Convergence, the ancestral estate of House Palpatine, Sheev felt an unwelcome presence in the Force. He supposed he should have expected it, but he’d hoped for more time. As it was, he commended himself for having planned appropriate excuses before his trip to Stewjon.
“Master,” he greeted the tall Muun waiting at the bottom of the wide stone steps as he descended from the speeder. As usual, he hid the revulsion he felt at calling this creature master in the deepest part of his mind. Sheev bowed, as expected, and then turned to pull Obi-Wan out. The nanny droid trundled down behind them.
Hego Demask, known only to Sheev as Darth Plagueis, glared coldly down at them. His narrow eyes gleamed yellow, and he didn’t bother hiding the cloud of anger and annoyance surrounding him in the Force, instead whipping it closer and stronger. Sheev likewise dropped his own shields, a relief after being cautious in the capital city. One never knew when a random Jedi might be traveling through, after all. It had been one of Plagueis’s first lessons for him.
“What have you done, Sidious?” Plagueis rasped.
Sidious held out conciliatory hands. “While reading one of the ancient texts, acolytes who performed the Siths’ bidding were mentioned. I believe a child trained from a young age in the dark side, but not fully trained, would make an admirable addition to our plans. He will be completely loyal, raised in my own household,” Sidious said, not too quickly or defensively.
Mouth pinched together, Plagueis eyed the child. Sidious waited, breath held, to see if his master would accept his explanation or if he would decide punishment was in order.
“Why did you not consult me first?”
Plagueis’s cold words sent a shiver down Sidious’s spine, although he didn’t let it show. He felt yellow eyes searing down on him as Plagueis’s strong mind swept over his in a multitude of spiked edges.
“I fully planned to, Master, but as I made a stop for fuel on Stewjon, opportunity presented itself. The boy’s mother was about to drown him for being Force-sensitive. No one will miss him. The Stewjoni don’t allow midichlorian testing of their infants.”
All of this was true. Sidious had learned to lie with the truth long ago. It suited his chosen profession well.
No need to go into his plans to make the boy his own apprentice, after all.
