#Shoulder the Sky

[shootingstarpilot]

1. for codys pov of the melidaan trio reunion? idk everytime i reread i get a kick out of imagining his version of that very sweet phone call with mel and then nield and cerasi fucking knocking obi wan over with that hug

Ask Game

Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV

okay I'm so irritated because I started writing this out and then the page refreshed and I lost a good half of the scene but you know what? we're going to try again!

(also cheers for the best prompt because i would've needed to write this eventually for llch so this was AWESOME, thanks so much for this-)

(also also i promise there will be a second half going up that is the actual hug, but you know me, what is a prompt if not an invitation to go hogwild, etc., and also i just really liked this ending line, okay?)

Cody worries.

To be fair, he’s good at that. He’s been worrying for most of his life, about brothers and battles and all the small intricacies that accompany being second-in-command of, functionally, most of the GAR. He forces it into planning and practice until it eases enough to let him grab a few hours of sleep, but it never really– leaves.

And now he’s got something else to worry about.

Oh, don’t get him wrong– he’s worried about Obi-Wan for a while now. But this–

This is new.

He doesn’t come down to the barracks on his own, despite Cody’s hopes after the first night. And they keep finding him in… odd places.

Watching the blurring stars on the observation deck, his comm unit methodically disassembled in front of him. In the rafters of the cargo bay, datapads stacked perilously next to him on a folded crane. In the laundry room, the sound of his pacing muffled under the thunk-thunk-thunk of the enormous machines.

He comes with them, when they ask. But the bags under his eyes grow darker, and his voice grows quieter, and Cody worries and worries and worries.

(There is not a lot of information about Melidaan in their briefing.)

He thinks:

They were his first command.

He thinks:

How long did they think he was dead?

He thinks: 

If it were me–

He thinks:

I’d have no room for rage.

He thinks:

If I thought he was dead–

He thinks:

To be proven wrong--

He thinks:

What wins out, the nat-born or the soldier?

He thinks, but he does not know, so he holds onto Obi-Wan as his breathing evens out and keeps his mouth shut.

A series of moments, in the last few hours:

Standing together on the bridge, shoulders brushing together.

The set of Obi-Wan’s jaw.

The sudden shock of Stats’ voice, announcing their approach.

Obi-Wan’s hand, pressed against the tempered glass.

The fog of his breath when he leans forward, watching.

The light–

Turning towards the window.

The light. 

Obi-Wan’s voice. Quiet, disbelieving.

Oh, he says. All the lights are on.

The stretch of them. The expanse.

(The blooming, awful hope.)

"Sir," Cody says quietly, unwilling to disturb the silent bridge. "We should-"

"Yes," Obi-Wan agrees. His hands vanish into the sleeves of his cloak, and Cody's own itch. "We should."

Cody opens the comm line when Obi-Wan doesn't move. Leans forward when Obi-Wan doesn't move. Declares himself when the line crackles, watches Obi-Wan twitch at the voice announcing Central Control, introduces himself, confirms their ship's ID, and then--

"Requesting identification of the highest-ranking officer on board."

It translates perfectly well.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Leans forward.

"Ben Kenobi," he says. He glances up, meets Cody's questioning gaze, quirks a smile- "Reporting for duty."

Her excitement peels away the years.

She sounds so-

Young.

Stats takes over briefly. Coordinates. The landing dock.

Cody tunes him out and watches Obi-Wan instead, feeling faintly ill.

"It's good to hear your voice, Mel," Obi- General Kenobi says at last. "I've- missed you. Very much."

"And yours, Ben," says Mel, and that's a new name too, one Cody doesn't recognize- "We missed you."

Ben.

"Sir," Cody says cautiously. The bridge is silent, all eyes on them, Waxer's wide-eyed expression mirroring his own nausea. "Were we-- your name--?"

Have they been naming him incorrectly? All this time, have they been doing him wrong? His file had said Obi-Wan, everyone had said Obi-Wan, but they of all people know files aren't the half of it-- had they asked? Actually asked his name? He'd said to call him Obi-Wan, but he's always prioritized them, their comfort, he might not have-

(Their names are all they have.)

"Oh," General Kenobi says. He laughs, a little half-hearted thing, and Cody's chest seizes. "Oh, no, I- Mel, she- she couldn't pronounce my name, when I arrived. It was either Ben or Bibi, and I just- kept it. Obi-Wan is more than fine. I haven't been Ben in a very long time. It's their name more than mine, really."

And yet he'd chosen it, when they'd asked for ID.

Cody doesn't stare. Not noticeably, at least. He turns his gaze towards the glass, ducks his head towards Obi-Wan and mutters something along the lines of nice to know we have one friend down there, at least, something that gets another snort, and considers the weight of this newest discovery.

If anyone could shoulder two names like that, he supposes, it would be their general.

(Obi-Wan suits him better, anyways.)

The gunship is packed with most of Ghost's officer corps, all of them eager and wary in equal measure-- even the barest whisper of Separatist sentiment is enough to put them all on edge, because even a whisper making its way to someone in authority indicates a seething mass under their feet that had gone unheard, but it's not quite enough to quell the rustling excitement. Cody suspects Obi-Wan can tell, because his lips twitch upwards as soon as they step onboard, but he doesn't say a word.

Instead, he takes up his position by the portal and presses a hand to the glass.

The portal isn't very big.

Cody rests a hand on his shoulder, and watches him instead.

[bumbledees]

fanart for @shootingstarpilot from like lightning changing hands, the most recent fic in his shoulder the sky series. i cannot for the life of me remember when I last did fanart (fe 3 houses????) but listen, I love little medic stitch (shootingstarpilot's oc) so so much. he's NINE you guys. for clone troopers that's like SIXTEEN. he goes through so much so when he got a chance to sit in a garden with a duckling on his head and be happy i was overcome with the need to draw it. codywan in one bubble with cody definitely not paying attention to the ducks. needle (another 212th medic + oc of shootingstarpilot) in the other bubble pleased with his contribution (the duckling) to world peace. if you've read this fic please come cry about the 212th medics in general with me, and this tiny dinosaur-loving kindhearted neurodivergent kiddo in particular. as needle calls him: baby bug. baby.

[drauthor]

calloused hands and bruised hearts is live—

Once again, I’m forever indebted to @shootingstarpilot for writing the series this work was based off of and inspired by. I just love the series with my whole entire soul and this was born as a labor of love.

I couldn’t get the idea out of my head and had to write something, and so 13.8k words of rare pair fanfiction were born and forced onto the universe.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think ✨💛✨

[kcrabb88]

Hi, I have a question about your shoulder the sky verse, what does the year name ABR mean? I can't figure it out

Hi! ABR is something I made up for that verse, and it stands for "After the Battle for the Republic" styled in the fashion of BBY and ABY (before and after the Battle of Yavin). ABR in this applies to the day where Obi-Wan was almost executed and Palpatine was defeated.

[izzieedraws]

Can‘t agree enough. The author is a sweetheart and delivers so much in every chapter! I think reading their on-going fanfictions have given me the push to read more on-going fanfics. I do prefer completed works but fanfic writers are the backbone of our society and I‘ll be damned if we don‘t support them all during the whole process.

The "shoulder the sky" series by Night_Fury on Ao3 is literally the best CodyWan fic I've ever read. It balances out the angst with humor, while also still managing to absolutely gut you in the best way possible! It shines light on both Jedi and Clone culture and adds so much really cool worldbuilding, while also keeping things interesting.

It's still ongoing and the author is really sweet, and I can't recommend it enough!

shoulder the sky - Night_Fury - Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

[perfecthealthline]

https://perfecthealthline.com/kandhe-ke-dard-ki-exercise/

[sinners-respite]

got inspired by that one days of love hair in the beta. Hatsune Miku in Sky when

[red-garden]

Mobei Jun trying to lay cutely on Airplane’s chest and listen to him breath as they slowly drift off to sleep, but he’s so goddamn big that not only does he cover Airplane like an ice cold blanket, he also crushes Airplane’s lungs

[2deadkat]

Okay as cool as Rhea and Liv or Rhea and Tiffany are…

may I consider:

I’m calling them Ripsky

[shootingstarpilot]

i keep imagining maces pov of when qui-gon gets decked and its so funny to me. this poor man just wants to know where his kid his friends padawan is but unfortunately he only has his his stupid friend whos panicking rn, a troll, and a very concussed soldier (who recognizes him??) who is having the most eventful and stressful days of his life to get any information from. and also theres a dead sith there. rip mace windu shout-out to him for not strangling qui-gon immediately after cody and co leave

...okay, yeah, i'm running with this.

because- mace has valiantly put off punching qui-gon. he has resisted every temptation. violence is so rarely a useful tool. he has not punched qui-gon. he will not punch qui-gon.

he is a jedi.

even when qui-gon returns to the temple self-righteous and indignant and without the child under his care-

he is a jedi.

even when they get the call, and he looks at qui-gon, who looks back at him, hopeful and eager and certain that he will be the one to go, to return, to repent, and mace thinks you do not deserve this and sends him anyway-

he is a jedi.

even when the shuttle returns, dropping out of orbit and straight through mace's stomach when he makes it to the dock just in time to see the healers vanish around the corner, qui-gon standing empty-handed on the landing, staring after them, blood on his tunics and under his fingernails-

he is a jedi.

even when vokara looks them both in the eyes and says infection and trauma and intubate, even when qui-gon asks can i see him? and there's no hint of a we, even during those three awful days of fever where mace finds himself hovering outside the halls with ever more minor errands, feeling obi-wan fade and flicker in the force and occasionally hearing the screams of please and no-! and names he does not know-

even then.

he is a jedi.

three days after obi-wan is pulled from the bacta tank:

another errand. theoretically. for the life of him mace cannot remember what he came here to deliver. but then the door to obi-wan's room opens, and vokara steps out, still speaking, her voice warm, some recounting of one of qui-gon's many misadventures that landed him in her care, and then she turns and sees him and before the door shuts behind her-

"master mace?"

the voice is thin and thready and mace closes his eyes.

"all right?" he whispers to vokara.

she raises an eyebrow. "he's asking for you."

(mace will find out later that this is the first time since his return that obi-wan has dared to asked for anything.)

he steps up to the threshold.

"obi-wan," he says. "may i come in?"

at the nod, mace steps forward and lets the door slide shut behind him. he settles into the chair left faithfully at the side of the bed.

obi-wan looks- unwell.

this is not, perhaps, the most novel observation. but it is one thing to know where and how he'd spent his last year. it is another matter entirely to see the proof of it, even beyond the cavernous wound he'd come home with-

in his size and stature, much smaller than that of a healthy child of his age. in the thinness of his face, the look of hunted hunger. in the scarring on the knuckles of his hands, clenching spasmodically in the layered blankets.

in the way he watches mace.

"obi-wan," mace repeats, and with the sound of his name comes an easing of the weight on his shoulders, each syllable fading into a sigh of relief, and he hadn't known what to say even as he'd stepped into the room- there is so much that needs saying, so many words he cannot find-

he smiles, instead, and rests his hands on his knees. "i have missed you very much."

when obi-wan reaches for him, mace is ready.

he ends up settled on the edge of the bed, one hand around obi-wan's shoulder as the boy curls into his side. he tugs gently at the tangled knot of pain still clouding obi-wan's thoughts, feeding the threads into the force, and feels him relax, bit by bit.

he's not asleep. his grip on mace's robe is too tight. his breathing too fast.

'how are you feeling?" mace asks quietly.

"okay."

the response is immediate, easy, and entirely untruthful.

"do you- need to go?"

mace catches qui-gon's approach. feels him pause.

feels him retreat.

"no," he says. "not at all."

he is a jedi.

there is so much to grieve, in the next few weeks. so much. obi-wan swings between different types of silence- sullen, frightened, exhausted, dissociating. tattered and bleeding in the force. he kicks and punches and bites and sometimes does not leave his room for days on end. he scratches at his skin until he bleeds, picks at his meals with a dull disengagement, sleeps sporadically, if at all-

it is very difficult, sometimes, to not be angry at qui-gon.

but the first time he visits their apartment, obi-wan recoils hard and fast at the first leak of such sentiments from behind his shielding, and mace decides that they have had their full of violence.

he is a jedi.

and besides-

qui-gon talks to him. talks to others, too, who talk between themselves, for no one is willing to let them handle this alone. mace sits and listens and sees the bruises bloom on qui-gon's arms and legs from small hands beating back imagined enemies, and knows anger is not what's needed here.

it persists, yes, but it does not rule.

he is a jedi.

and then-

and then.

(the force is full of screaming.)

the temple lets them through and the gardens are burning and there is a corpse on the floor and obi-wan is-

gone, qui-gon says.

i don't know where. he's gone.

and for a moment mace can hardly breathe under the weight of the fear and the fury and the you have a habit of losing him, don't you?, and he catches the thought and breathes it out, recognizing its roots, its unfairness, drawing his focus to the sith, listening with one ear to qui-gon's recounting even as he presses a hand to the rift, searching for some leeway and finding none, feeling the pressure build behind his eyes, swiping impatiently at the blood drying under his nose-

then something hums.

the soldiers are immensely professional. clear-cut and firm and shielded in the force, understandably reticent with information. but the most disconcerting thing by far...

they look to him.

all of them.

there's a familiarity there.

he's safe with us, the commander says, and looks at him.

safe-with-us, echos the force. safe-with-lightning-safe-with-fighting-safe-with-dying-safe-with-surviving-safe-with-us.

what else can he do but accept it?

he is a jedi.

and then qui-gon-

qui-gon-

well.

he is a jedi.

so he crouches next to him, rests a hand on his shoulder, and when qui-gon turns a shell-shocked gaze on him, says quietly- "come on. let me see."

he is a jedi.

he does not punch qui-gon.

but he is not entirely immune to schadenfreude.

[drauthor]

sometimes you just gotta write 12.4k words of a rare-pair fic because a fanfic author changed your life and made you want two old, gay men to kiss

as a treat

[marciavalance]

Unfortunately i think the outsiders needs a new editor

[izzieedraws]

Omg it‘s sock day!!

happy sock day to all who celebrate

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Pony digs the sunsets.

Darry watches the sunrises out the kitchen window in the few moments before he has to turn on the stove and cajole Pony into getting up for school and make sure Soda's really awake once, twice, three times 'cause the kid could fall asleep standing up at the sink. But before all of that there is always a brief moment at the counter, in a silent house, when the sky goes all pink.

Soda knows every constellation in the sky. Has spent hours flat on his back in the field with Steve's head resting alongside his own or Pony's body curled up in the crook of his arm or Johnny propped up on his hands and so wide eyed he forgets to be jumpy. And for anything else he wouldn't ever have the patience to lay still that long. But there's just something about all that sky that makes him feel small enough he could just get pinned down beneath it. Because Soda was the night sky, so vast it went on forever and so small you could see it all flat on your back in the grass. And it was nice to not feel so lonely.

[luna-loveboop]

There's a lot about Twilight's injury arc that makes me wanna cry but every time I read through it Legend is what gets me

Because Legend took his hat off out of respect when going into Twilight's room while he was injured

I don't I ever have or ever will read a "salty and traumatised and not-nice but still good" character as well written as Legend. Because he's mean and snarky and grumpy- and almost always at least one of his eyebrows is down. Twilight even saw him as a bully at first. (Ref. comic 'bully' in Lu archive)

But this is a warrior who will take off his hat for another who got hurt. Legend shows love in almost invisible ways, and his heart is guarded enough to have spikes. But if he's going to see someone who's injured he shows respect and care.

And he showed his care in other ways too- he has so much love for Twilight to show this much past his guarded heart

Legend is always wearing his hat- it is literally something he puts on just as much as his shoes or tunic.

He shows so much love for Twilight through his injury. And him pulling off/putting on his hat is just one small way that was shown.

*dies drowning in tears because legend took off his hat and it means so much and*

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse au

:)

[shootingstarpilot]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you SO MUCH for the tag @aquaticflames, your snippet was as always a devastating delight <3

“Right,” the medic drawls. “Well. All’s well that ends well, right?” The words are so wholly unexpected that Qui-Gon can do nothing but stare. “Melidaan ended up saving all our lives. Saved the Republic, really. Long story–” he waves a hand– “but I know what you Jedi are like. Will of the Force, and all that. You betray your padawan, and a few decades later the Sith lose the war. Can’t really blame you for that, can I?” For one brief, blinding moment, there is absolution. The Force is present in all things, bright in every motion. Every stride makes ripples in the river. Every thought casts prismatic reflections. What a gift it would be, to release his own actions into it! To share the burden of responsibility! It had not been him alone who’d walked away; he’d been influenced in the service of some later victory. It had not been him alone who’d left his padawan behind; it was a necessary sacrifice in service of the Republic. Casting him adrift from the Order had not been a mistake; it was a vital catalyst to what would become the eventual defeat of the Sith– What a privilege it would be, to absolve himself of such cruelty. What a relief. (The medic is watching him very carefully.) What an injustice.

ARGH forgot to tag- no-pressure tags for @bumbledees, @drauthor, @wanderingjedihistorian, @navigatorwrongway, @foreverchangingfandomsao3 and, just for fun, tossing it right back to @aquaticflames for totally selfless reasons, not like I'm DYING to see more or anything like that-