obitinenovelwhen

[obitinenovelwhen]

I think about this too often already but I appreciate the reminder to think about it even more.

Friendly reminder that Obi-Wan chose the name Ben when he went into exile because that’s what Satine used to call him.

[obitinenovelwhen]

Here is a direct link to the Obitine Week 2025 collection on Ao3! Thirty-three works and counting!! Thank you all, once again!

[obitinenovelwhen]

Urgent... A historic popular movement is coming

An international coalition of more than 32 European countries will begin a journey on foot towards the Gaza Strip to break the siege.

So far, 10,000 people will move towards Gaza, and the number is likely to increase.

[obitinenovelwhen]

For Day 6 of Obitine week (free day, no prompt) I decided to post a fic I wrote during spring break because i remember writing it made me so happy and re-reading it had the same effect :) it’s a bit longer than my other fics (7k words), but I hope y’all give it a chance whenever you have time 🫶

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66282994

Title: I Love You

Summary: Many times, both during the year on the run and after rekindling their relationship in the clone wars, Satine told Obi-Wan that she loved him. Before he managed offer back those words, he used to show her through his actions how much she means to him. After almost losing her, though, he tells her that he loves her, he has always loved her. She had known, of course, but it’s nice to hear those words.

[obitinenovelwhen]

WIP Satine and Obi during the year on the run

[obitinenovelwhen]

Obitine Week Day Six | Free Day

“Upsetting”

Summary:

Upsetting would be severely diluting the situation at hand. ‘Upsetting’ referred to something such as a bad grade or a particularly overcast week.

There was no form of the word ‘upsetting’ that properly expressed the turmoil of emotion rising and falling in Korkie’s chest at the moment. Yes, he was upset, but the tumorous winding in his gut felt both justified and unjustified. He should be happy. He should be angry. He should want to yell both for joy and resentment.

-

Little backstory on this: I wrote it in 2022 for Obitine Week then but it gave me a vivid nightmare 💜 So I stopped writing it. I only have the ending and some snippets in between written as well, but I had to get this out like this is basically a three year delay 😭

Lmk what y’all think and if I should continue with it 🙂‍↕️

Day 5 is probably coming tomorrow. Thank you for an awesome week, and I am catching up on reading everyone’s stuff now!

@weekofobitine

[obitinenovelwhen]

Tagging: @weekofobitine

He flinches as soon as he steps into the room, and leans back slightly like he had two dozen blasters pointed at him, and squints at the box in her hands.

“What is that?”

If it weren't for the box, she would certainly pressed her palm to her face: she is standing in his room in the Temple in the middle of the night, although she should be on Mandalore rehearse her speak for the Separatist Senate, and this is worries him most of all?

“A dessert,” Satine answers with emphasis. “Do you want to take it?”

“Not really. The last, ahem, dessert that was in my hands turned out to be too mobile to eat.”

“You know, I'm not Tal Merrick to present you an activated droid.”

“To present?” his eyebrows arch in surprise.

Unable to restrain herself much longer, she rolls her eyes with a groan.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, stop pretending. Yes, it's a day late, but I didn't forget! Besides, I'm late because you wasn't on the planet. Do you have any idea how hard it was to sneak into the Temple with freshly baked Uj'alayi?” she squints angrily, but sighs and continues much more calmly. “I used almond and chocolate syrups, because you can't lived without a caf. But it seems that half of the Jedi Order can't too. I even had to hide a couple of times, and on the main staircase…”

“Did you make uj cake for me?”

Satine freezes for a second, her mouth slightly open as she looking at him. How could such a smart man ask such stupid questions? But a confusion in his eyes is real, and she reminds herself that he has just returned from a mission, and it is almost midnight, and his body, exhausted from long forced marches, just trying to squeeze out as much rest as possible in its natural environment and slows down all itself non-vital functions. There is no point in being angry with him for something he cannot control.

“Yes,” she says gentle, her lips curling into a smile. “So take it.”

When she holds the box out and lets it go, Obi-Wan catches it with a gasp, his eyes wide with horror like she almost dropped a bomb that was ready to explode with just one wrong move. Ignoring his state, Satine rips off the lid.

“Why… why are there candles in it?”

“Because, this is not just Uj'alayi,” she clicks her tongue, flicking the lighter and burning wicks one by one. “But a celebratory one. Yesterday was a birthday. Your birthday.”

“Ow,” he's grimacing. “I forgot about it.”

“Well, I didn’t,” their gazes, separated by the flames of burning candles, intersect. “Happy birthday, Obi-Wan.”

He continues to stand there silently, looking at her and doing nothing, so Satine glances sideways at the uj in his hands with a grin.

“Candles,” she prompts. “Make a wish and blow out candles.”

“You can be serious,” he grins, his backlit face looking slightly sinister because of the grimace. “We're adults. And we both know, our wishes don’t come true just because we think about it while holding a cake.”

“Have you checked it?”

“Checked?” his brows furrow slightly. “Checked in what sense?”

“Most literal. Have you ever made a wish with birthday cake before?”

“I’ve never even blown out candles.”

“Please,” she looks at him pleadingly. “Just do it for me.”

Obi-Wan sighs, but neither his heavy sigh nor his frowningly side-look has any effect on her – she continues to look at him, a silent request burning in her eyes, – and then he blows out all candles with a one sharp exhalation.

“So,” the gray smoke spreading from extinguished candles half hides his face, but its simply impossible not to catch some kind of smugness in his voice. “Are you happy now?”

“Not quite.”

Before he can object, Satine takes the uj cake from him and, leaving it on the table, grabs his hand. Throwing her hood over her head, she runs out into the hallway with him.

“Satine,” he hesses, but doesn't try to pull his hand away or stop her. “Satine, what are you doing? Where are you dragging me?”

“To celebrate, of course,” without slowing down, she quickly looks back at him, a smile on her lips. “Or you think, I would overcome half the Galaxy just to give you a cake?”

“I didn't think you come. I didn't even think you will remember!”

“And why I should forget?”

“Well, you know,” he chuckles, “there's a war going on now, you always have a lot to do, negotiations and so on. Besides, you never congratulated me before. Not in person, but at least by message, so…”

“Nonsense,” she objects with an indignant snort. “The fact that you didn't see my congratulations doesn't mean its weren't there.”

“What?”

Continue read on ao3

[obitinenovelwhen]

Currently have 11 new Obitine fics to read this weekend and I’m in heaven 😍 Thank you @weekofobitine !!

[obitinenovelwhen]

Seeing Korkie mentions in the year of our Lord 2025 brings warm feelings to my heart.

Obitine Week Day Six | Free Day

“Upsetting”

Summary:

Upsetting would be severely diluting the situation at hand. ‘Upsetting’ referred to something such as a bad grade or a particularly overcast week.

There was no form of the word ‘upsetting’ that properly expressed the turmoil of emotion rising and falling in Korkie’s chest at the moment. Yes, he was upset, but the tumorous winding in his gut felt both justified and unjustified. He should be happy. He should be angry. He should want to yell both for joy and resentment.

-

Little backstory on this: I wrote it in 2022 for Obitine Week then but it gave me a vivid nightmare 💜 So I stopped writing it. I only have the ending and some snippets in between written as well, but I had to get this out like this is basically a three year delay 😭

Lmk what y’all think and if I should continue with it 🙂‍↕️

Day 5 is probably coming tomorrow. Thank you for an awesome week, and I am catching up on reading everyone’s stuff now!

@weekofobitine

[obitinenovelwhen]

So beautiful and sweet. 🥰

The last day of obitine week was a free day which I interpreted as “time for kissing”

[obitinenovelwhen]

Obitine Week has officially come to a close (though we will continue to share works, knowing that sometimes the enthusiasm is there but timing doesn't always work out!).

Thank you so much to everyone who contributed. As I said somewhere yesterday, we have such depth in talent in our little corner of fandom. Thank you to everyone who took time to read, share, like, and comment on everything. Please never forget that writers and artists thrive on our interactions. As much as we believe that fanfiction and fan art are supposed to be for us, the creators, we all know how much we crave acknowledgement, if for no other reason than to find our kindred spirits to shout about our favorite couple with. Please continue to support each other, outside of this week.

This community is not huge, we know, but we also know how passionate we can be. So, once again, we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts for being apart of this labor of love. Vor entye, friends.

[obitinenovelwhen]

Оригинал на русском (закончен) // English translation (Updated on Sundays)

Tagging: @weekofobitine

At that moment, Obi-Wan understood everything and was ready to bet his lightsaber, that Satine, now with an innocent gaze looking at him through the pixels of the hologram, had been in a communication session with Quinlan before call to him. Because only this kriffing idiot could help her come to such a blatantly absurd idea!

“Oh, stars… Calm down,” Satine sighed, and although the hologram was monochromatic and only about thirty centimeters high, which made it impossible to say for sure, he was ready to gamble his Jedi uniform too that she rolled her eyes. “If it makes you more comfortable, you can write reports instead of sending a hologram. Like for the Council.”

Obi-Wan imagined it.

“Dear Duchess Satine!

Inform you, that during the combat operation conducted by the 212th Attack Battalion on the Sarrish, Vensensor sector, coordinate grid K-16, at the commander-in-chief of one of the battalion's units, namely, High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi fired no less than thirty-six thousand shots, two shots reached a target a burnt tunic as a result. In addition, were recorded: falls from height fourteen, unsuccessful jumps to height seven, lightsaber knocked out twice, irretrievably lost robes one. Injuries received: wound to the left palm due to one's own short-sightedness, a guaranteed scar.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands. The scar was almost invisible, but it wasn't the second or even the third scar in the past week, not to mention two months that flown by unnoticed since he returned from the special mission under the mask of Rako Hardini.

“It's even worse.”

Satine seemed to smile.

“So, maybe, you just trying out my proposal in practice at least?”

OR

After Obi-Wan's return from the dead, in Satine's heart steal doubts about both his mental and physical state. Wanting to restore a harmony to his soul and body, she asks him to fulfill her one small wish, which Obi-Wan, still too confused by recent events and his feelings for Satine, interprets in his own way.

Continue read on ao3

[obitinenovelwhen]

Bonus Obitine Fic

This didn’t get posted to Obitine Week 2025 because I already posted it for Satine Kryze week and I figured that cheating. Since it’s a prequel of sorts to my Day One fic, though, I wanted to post it here and on my ao3. Hope you enjoy!

It Happened One Night

The moment everything changes is quiet, still. Almost a dream.

Almost.

Because dreams, after all, don’t have consequences. At least not lasting ones. Once the dreamers awakens, enters back into the waking world, the dream comes to a standstill. Real life, on the other hand—it’s messy and awkward and filled with regret. The people who make their choices must bear the weight of them, even if they’re too heavy to shoulder. That is what this night will be remembered for: the choices that are made, and all the things never said, never done.

The first actions—what starts this whole messy thing—is that Satine Kryze can’t sleep, and she’s restlessly wandering their camp. She doesn’t know why; after the tens of kilometers of walking they do each day, she should be exhausted, practically wilting into her bedroll. It might have something to do with the dreams she sometimes has, where she relives her mother’s death in startling detail, as if she herself were dying. Or it could be the odd emptiness she feels, not having him by her side. Whatever it is, whether it’s fears of another nightmare or the need to be close to him—it is the thing that draws her forward, her feet picking their way delicately away from the one place she should be.

The second action happens when Obi-Wan Kenobi senses her, turning to look over his shoulder with a surprised smile. He knows she should be sleeping, getting her rest for the next grueling day, but the selfish part of him is glad to have her company. Glad that for once, he’s not alone. That’s why he goes against his better judgement and pats the spot next to him on the ground, where he’s been crouching while keep watch just outside their camp.

The only one not here, of course, is Obi-Wan’s Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. The three of them have been constant companions these past months, bound together by the familiarity only adversity can bring, their only separation coming during the night when they sleep in shifts. This is probably their first time being truly alone together—a realization that dawns in them both with the same inexplicable mix of pleasure and thrill.

Anything could happen, they tell themselves, before squashing the thought down. Best not to dwell on that fact. Especially not as the third action occurs—not as Satine settles down beside Obi-Wan, offering him the excess of the blanket draped around her shoulder.

He accepts the preferred blanket, shoulder brushing hers. Immediately, they can both feel the exchange of warmth and their bodies start to relax, soften. They’re not wrapped in each other’s arms—that won’t come until much, much later—but there’s a comfort here, a familiarity, like they fit together.

Like they are meant to.

They sit there in silence for a while, just soaking in the other’s presence. Then they start to talk about nothing of great import—about how beautiful the sky is tonight on Kalevala, how fair the weather is, how comfortable the breeze feels on their skin. After months on the run with nothing more than the the supplies they can carry on their backs, they’ve come to appreciate pleasant weather more than most, to revel in it like a connoisseur might delight in a particularly exquisite dish.

It’s after they’ve praised the wonders of their climate that Satine pauses, turns to look at him. “Was it like this, on Coruscant? I can’t imagine they have much in the way of seasons.”

He doesn’t turn to regard her, but he does shake his head. “The only weather on Coruscant is rain, muggy after-rain, and blistering heat on the upper levels, and dank and cold on the lower ones. Some say the planet once had a full ecosystem with forests, mountains, oceans, and all the rest—but I’m afraid it’s been so long since the world wasn’t plastered with buildings that all we have of its history are less-than-credible accounts from religious texts.”

Satine smiles ruefully. “Mandalore isn’t so different. When I was a girl, I remember my parents telling me tales of how lush and beautiful it was, how it used to be teeming with all manner of flora and fauna. But that’s all they were, in the end: tales to be shared with children before bedtime, nothing more.”

“What happened to it?” he asks.

“War. And generations of people who prioritized inventing new and cleverer ways to kill rather than focusing on how to heal what we had done to our world.”

“That sounds like a rather bleak childhood,” Obi-Wan comments, almost saying it as a question.

She shakes her head, a motion that frees some of the locks of golden hair from her hastily tied bun. “I didn’t grow up on Mandalore. We visited, yes—especially when my father had Clan business to attend to. But we spent most of our time here, on Kalevala.”

It’s now that he finally turns to regard her, eyebrows raising in surprise. “You grew up here?”

“Not in this particular area, no. Our family’s estate is on a cliff side, so there’s no forest cover like there is here.”

“That sounds…” He pauses, looking down as if the right word is hiding somewhere in his lap. “…rather exposed.”

The ruefulness comes back into her expression, but this time, she’s not smiling. This time, her gaze is distant, far away. Lost in some half-remembered scene from the past. “It is. It’s how insurgents were able to assassinate my mother so easily. The garden where they killed her was only 20 meters or so from the cliff-face.”

Obi-Wan looks away, drops his gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to—“

“It’s alright,” she assures him, touching a hand to his cheek. “You didn’t know.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze lifts away from the ground, first resting on her arm. Then he finds her gaze, and for a moment they simply sit there, taking each other in. It’s perhaps they first time they’ve done this, the first time they have ever really seen each other, and it’s certainly not their last—not for the next year or so, or even tonight.

But then Obi-Wan’s gaze drops again, and the moment is broken, never to be found again. Satine, for her part, lets her hand drop back to her lap, as if it had always been there. As if she hadn’t just touched a Jedi padawan in such an intimate, familiar way.

That’s when she makes another action that sets them further down their path: hoping to avoid the closeness that had just sparked between them, she changes the subject. She’ll soon realize that this has had the opposite effect from what she intended; by switching to their new topic of conversation, they’ll only grow more closer, not less. But only hindsight can allow such clarity. In the moment, they don’t see where they’re headed, what this moment will mean for the rest of their lives.

“Did you ever know your parents?” Satine asks this softly, as gently as her fingers touched his face only moments ago.

Obi-Wan’s gaze stays on the ground, face partially obscured by the shadow the moon casts on his features. “I…have a few vague memories. Or…perhaps impressions would be more accurate. But nothing distinct.”

She’s glad that he’s looking away, that he can’t see her blink in surprise. “How old were you?”

Obi-Wan pauses. There’s the second half of that question, the unspoken part, hanging in the air between them like a ghost: *How old were you when they took you? When you were taken from your family and given a new home, a new life? *Not that he sees it this way; he’s always thought of the Jedi as his true calling, his true purpose in life. But it still hurts, in that particularly way that the past always does, to wonder how differently his life might have looked if he’d walked a different path.

“I…I was around three, I believe,” he says finally. His gaze goes distant like Satine’s gaze did only a few minutes earlier, when she’d been recalling the day of her mother’s death. “I remember that they were both very…ordinary. Not particularly tall or short, large or thin. The only thing I can recall about them that stands out is that they both had blue eyes, and that my mother’s hair was auburn, just like mine.”

Without really thinking, Satine’s fingers wrap around the long, thin braid hanging over his shoulder, the distinguishing mark of a Jedi padawan—or at least in species with hair. “People often tell me I look like rather like my mother—my eyes, my hair.” A faint smile touches her lips. “My father used to jest that my intellect came from her as well, seeing as he had little of his own.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze settles on where her hand lightly grasps his padawan braid, fingers running over it as if trying to commit it to memory. But notably, he doesn’t move to stop her. Instead, he continues to watch her fingers idly stroke the braid, as if he, too, is memorizing this moment. “I’m afraid I haven’t the scarcest idea what my parents were like as people. I was too young to pick up on that sort of thing.”

“What do you think they were like?”

He frowns slightly. “I’m really not sure. I suppose I’d like to imagine they were both good, kind, honest people who loved each other and their children.”

Her hand lifts again to his cheek as she shows him a small but warm smile. “I imagine they would both be good and kind if they made you.”

Chuckling softly, he looks down, smiles abashedly. “Well, I’m not certain I would go that far. I have been known to be uncharitable from time to time.”

She slaps him lightly on the arm, feigning exasperation. “Much more than time to time! I recall you were rather than tetchy with me when we first met. I’d even be tempted to say that you disliked me, padawan Kenobi.”

Another abashed little smile plays his lips at her use of his title. “I’m afraid you did test my patience at times, particularly when you insisted on arguing with my every word.”

“Not every word. Only the wrong ones.”

“Ah, yes,” he says lightly. “An important distinction.”

They both stay like this for a moment, enjoying the warmth that gentle banter often brings. They aren’t thinking about the fact that they are seated so close now that their shoulders and hips are brushing, or that their faces are less than a few inches apart. Right now, in this moment, they’re only taking pleasure in the other’s company, only thinking of how good it is to be together.

After a few moments go by, Obi-Wan tilts his head back slightly to regard Satine. “And what do you think of me now?”

“I think I rather like you,” she replies, smiling.

“I suppose I rather like you, too,” he says in return.

They both chuckle at that then look down as one, both uncertain how to proceed. The uncertainty doesn’t last long, though; after only a beat or two, Satine’s hand touches his face yet again, this time with almost a sense of reverance. He leans into the touch, skin warm against her hand as he meets her eyes, gazing steadily at her. Really seeing her, and letting her see him.

Neither is sure when it happened, but it’s then that the final action, the one that seals their fate, begins to unfold. All they know is that at some point, in the middle of this quiet moment when she is caressing his face and he is melting into her touch, Satine starts to draw closer. To lean in, slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Obi-Wan could easily have stopped her five times over.

But he doesn’t.

When the final action happens, it is with both of them choosing it, both of them deciding that this is what they want. Satine moves first, yes—but as they move together, they are both saying yes. Yes to this moment, to this kiss—and ultimately, to each other.

The kiss itself isn’t long or drawn out; it’s brief, gentle and tentative in the way that inexperience lovers have. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t sweet, something to be cherished forever. For both of them, this will be remembered as the first time they kissed another person in this way, the first time they have ever used their bodies to show that they’ve crossed the line from friends to something…different.

This is how they both feel, when their short kiss is over: Different. Not the kind of different that implies that they were somehow incomplete before this moment, but a kind of difference between them. A kind of draw, a pull, as if the Force itself is guiding them together.

They see it when they pause to take stock, to study how the other has responded. They can see the desire to be together, to keep pulling closer, tighter, and they move in again, this time less hesitantly. And while it is not passionate or demanding, this kiss extends beyond the short peck of their first. This kiss goes deeper, lingers longer before they take another brief moment to gather themselves, to see if they’re both still choosing this.

When they see that they are, their lips meet again—and again, and again. They’re not sure how long it goes on for; neither of them really cares about particulars at this point. All that matters to them is the rightness of this, of their lips touching, of their breath mingling.

Until, without warning, Obi-Wan suddenly stiffens and turns away.

Satine blinks repeatedly, as if she’s unsure of what just has just occurred. One moment, their lips were meeting, warm and soft and sweet, then the next? Obi-Wan was pulling away as if he was never really there in the first place, like they had simply dreamt the entire thing.

“I…shouldn’t have done that,” he says faintly, almost shakily.

Satine finds herself moving forward to touch him, to offer some of comfort. “Obi-Wan, I’m sorry. I thought—“

“I know. I…” He holds up a hand to stop her approach and sighs. Drags a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I think…I think I need to be alone for a moment.”

With that, he begins walking away from her. Just like her kiss, his movements are slow, deliberate. Satine could stop him, run to him if she wanted to—but she doesn’t. Instead, she sits there in stunned silence, hot tears rolling down her cheeks while she watches his form retreat further and further away.

He never looks back.

[obitinenovelwhen]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66290062

First Meals

An early morning at the palace in Sundari brings some surprises. For Obitine Week 2025 Day 6: Free Day.

Tags: Slice of Life, Don't look at the timeline too closely, Fluff, Korkie Kryze is a Kenobi, Fluff and Humor, Humor

@weekofobitine

[obitinenovelwhen]

What if the real Obitine Week 2025 was the friends we made along the way? Shout-out to @selfconfessedfangirl, @notaghost3, @padfoot-lupin77, @jelly-opal, @bunysliper, @odessabennett, @bucketofdeltav, and a lot of usernames I know I’m forgetting for all your kind comments and reblogs this week. It seems like every week has been getting darker since Trump took office again in January, so all of your support helped make things feel a little brighter.

[obitinenovelwhen]

Thank you to @weekofobitine for hosting this event! It was so much much fun.

Obitine Week Ao3 Collection

I'm so overwhelmed by all of the wonderful fics and artworks that have been posted for Obitine Week!

We have added an Ao3 collection so that we can create a collection of fics that have been posted to that site! I went through and tried to collect the names of all those who posted to Ao3, but please let me know if I've forgotten anyone!

@obitinenovelwhen @bunysliper @archivewriter1ont @padfoot-lupin77 @notaghost3 @trash-panda-kitty @cinciri @artements @emeraldvsociety @jelly-opal @mg024 @the-obiwan-for-me

Thank you all for writing such amazing fics that celebrate our favorite Duchess and Jedi! Please feel free to add your fic(s) to the Obitine Week 2025 collection.

To add to the collection, open your fic, input the collection's name ("obitineweek2025"), and then save the change!

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/obitineweek2025

[obitinenovelwhen]

Mateja Laar

Wife of Adinui Kryze and Matriarch of Clan Kryze alongside him. Mother of Satine, Meera and Bo-Katan Kryze.

Close ups under the cut

And little fun fact:

What she is wearing is a folk costume of the women of the city of Scanno (Italy, Abruzzo) that was used kinda around the 17/18th century!!

And her hairstyle is inspired by Croatian braids!!