#anti-obikin obi-wan

[smbiotics]

there's something strangely erotic to me about putting obi-wan into positions that most people would put anakin in... like okay lemme give an example.

picture with me if you will: anakin sitting in obi-wan's lap. that's nice. very cool, 10/10 would recommend, would not ever pass up. but also predictable, which isn't necessarily bad.

but--but obi-wan?? in ANAKIN'S lap? oh boy. that, my friends, is the best bite. I need more obi-wan exploitation

[twinstarsoftatooine]

the tragedy of obi-wan kenobi and anakin skywalker as seen through the eyes of obi-wan

‘from a certain point of view: the empire strikes back’ | ‘the last days of judas iscariot’ stephen guirgis | ‘slow dance’ tim seibles | ‘a meeting’ wendell berry | ‘honeybee’ trisha mateer | ‘so much for stardust’ fall out boy | ‘on earth we’re briefly gorgeous’ ocean vuong | ‘the life and legend of obi-wan kenobi’ ryder windham

PLATONIC. NOT A SHIP. If u ship them and reblog this I’m stealing your kneecaps

[merrysithmas]

Obi-wan and Padme as willfully obtuse rivals

Saw this Take on reddit the other day (I know) but I thought it was so perfectly written and captured exactly the dynamic I always felt Obi-wan and Padme to have. I never saw them as friends (and frankly I don't think the on-screen text supports them as friends). They certainly aren't enemies! They share a friend, they share traits, they even share respect for one another - but they are not in league with one another, and importantly they share a subtle current of mistrust for each one another.

Obi-wan outright states he does not trust politicians, Senators in particular. Padme willingly marries a Jedi which is against the Order and Senate's codes of conduct, and blatantly lies to Obi-wan for years. Obi-wan never confronts Padme about his concern for Anakin despite his growing observation of Anakin's instability. They both prefer, in a way, to pretend the other does not exist. Compartmentalized.

Padme and Obi-wan represent, thematically, a dual influence on Anakin - one he must famously choose between Jedi or Senate (spoiler alert: he ends up choosing himself, Sith). It is worthy to note that they hardly ever interact themselves - this is done on purpose.

It is essential for the tragedy narrative that Obi-wan and Padme do not collide and rarely interact with one another. It is their own personalities which ensure this. Years of subtle feigned ignorance between them and purported respect coupled with disinterested avoidance.

The two are almost eerily similar in their delusions (Padme is naive, Obi-wan is arrogant - yet neither believe they are), they overlap almost constantly in Anakin's life, but on their own they rarely interact together. They stubbornly refuse, both knowingly and unknowingly, to ever truly confront one another about this dangerous tug-of-war they are engaged in with Anakin as, for lack of better term, the object of their desire. Yet they are not, emphatically, a love triangle. Anakin is the prize. The Jedi and the Senate are competitors.

These negative aspects to their characterizations propels the Tragedy Narrative with Anakin/The Chosen One as the McGuffin forward. Neither the Jedi nor the Senate are willing to see the truth about Anakin, and both keep their intentions with him secret. Like Padme and Obi-wan, the Jedi & Senate never wanted to admit Anakin's fate might be multifaceted and linked to many different power structures, so instead they seek to direct him on their own.

Anakin as the Chosen One was essentially the harbinger of a message: the Order and Senate need to be dismantled and refurbished. They were corrupt - the same as Padme and Obi-wan (as figures in a Tragedy). But neither side could admit that.

Padme marries Anakin secretly and intends to take him away from a life of service (when she knows he is deeply conflicted about this, & she marries him when he is struck with unstable grief over Shmi), and Obi-wan is seemingly very aware the Council does not trust Anakin and is keeping him on the outside because of fear of his abilities (when he knows Anakin desperately wants to know the truth) - both of these things intend to direct Anakin, unknowingly. Anakin isn't getting what he needs in either direction, nor is he providing it. Nor is the Force - stuck in limbo between these two forces of "good" which are shutting out Skywalker from himself and each other.

Neither Obi-wan or Padme ever consider confiding in one another about this for years, nor does the Jedi & the Senate. It's because they do not want to. It's because deep down they do not trust each other, and importantly, they do not trust each other with Anakin. Despite pleasantries with one another, that mistrust is always there implied in the narrative. The only place Anakin overlaps in this realm is the War.

The war ending is almost unfathomable - because who will "win" Anakin? Anakin enjoys being a general in the War because he can fight for both the Jedi and the Senate, beside Obi-wan who is, ultimately, his true friend despite the struggle, and for Padme as a princess ideal on a distant planet. With the Jedi who he desperately wants to be (though they shut him out) and for the ideal of the Senate (but not truly having to deal with its realities). He is his happiest during the war - though it is an temporary balm, an illusion of inner peace.

Obi-wan and Padme orbit Anakin, each with their own gravitational pull -- Anakin is obsessed with and bound to Padme because of his trauma regarding Shmi (not, arguably, because of genuine selfless romantic love), and Anakin is duty-bound and desperate for Obi-wan's approval (despite, truthfully, having ideas and aspirations way outside the Jedi Code and Order). His fate with both of them is on a collision course for destruction from the get-go.

In the story, neither Obi-wan nor Padme end up being the final keeper of Anakin (Luke and Leia). Padme's death can be looked at as a narrative choice to show that Anakin's and Padme's relationship was founded on unstable principles (Shmi). Yet, he could not leave his soul in the hands of the Jedi (Obi-wan) either, and so destroyed them. Anakin's soul, the Chosen One, ends up in the hands of Bail Organa of Alderaan and the Lars family of Tatooine.

In the end, the children need protection from Vader. Vader of course represents the instability in both systems of Good (Senate and Jedi) and the Sith taking advantage of that. How the powers of Good can easily fall to the powers of Evil when they are divided, secretive, and especially when they seek to control for their own self-gain. I.e. Padme marrying Anakin, and Obi-wan being unable to admit Anakin's mistrust of the Jedi was founded.

Obi-wan and Padme are forced to finally confront one another upon Anakin's destruction. They are forced, in a way, to admit they played a part in it - specifically. The fact that Obi-wan essentially becomes the twins' defacto parent becomes all the more poignant because of this. Obi-wan and Padme, for lack of a better term, become one another's problem at last.

Obi-wan and Padme's dynamic is extremely interesting, and they do see one another as intellectual equals, even admire one another for their skill, but this admiration falls very quickly to their subtle mistrust of one another.

In the end, in OWK, it's obvious Obi-wan fondly recalls Padme with more than a little regret. He recalls a woman, who like him lost everything (and more, her own life!). In the kids, Luke and Leia, he sees hope for a better government (Leia) and a better Jedi order (Luke) - an answer to the mistakes of two parallel but unconnected people - Padme and himself.

The fact that the children are twins is a hopeful sign the future of the galaxy will be in harmony, not opposed to one another, as with the symbolism of he and Padme.

Leia and Luke are miraculously, as per the Force, a chance to redo both the Senate and the Jedi - a gift that could only be possible as the children of the Chosen One, Anakin Skywalker.

The person they both loved wrong and lost.

[toxicsludgeyaoi]

Toxic Sludge Yaoi Tournament: Goncharov/Andrey (Goncharov) Vs Obikin (Star Wars)

(No images provided for either ship. Vote for whichever ship you like more.)

Propaganda under cut. Note: spoilers for these medias may be below.

Goncharov/Andrey propaganda

"It's like the original toxic yaoi sludge??????? They're obsessed with eachother but they're literally enemies. It's perfect."

Obikin propaganda

"“obikin really is the dynamic of all time. they're brothers, they're lovers, they're enemies, they're father and son they're mother and daughter they're alive because of each other they're alive in spite of each other” (@girlvader ) Obi-wan cut off all his limbs, he raised him from the age of nine. He left him to burn alive, he spent the rest of his life watching over his children. He could never tell him he loved him until it was too late, he was the only father he ever knew."

[tennessoui]

ganymede & zeus but make it obikin

been a while since i did a ficlet for tumblr....this comes out of a discord convo about ganymede!anakin and zeus!obi-wan......sort of dark tho gods are horrible beings with no boundaries

(for @jswander ) (2.3k)

Every muscle in Anakin’s body feels overextended and sore. He cries out from the sensation upon waking, instinctively trying to curl in on himself—anything to get away from the pain.

“Hush now,” a voice above him and below him and around him says. “None of that, beloved,” it speaks again when Anakin fights to tear open his eyes. “Sleep.”

There is nothing Anakin wants to do simultaneously more and less, but he’s never submitted under another’s thumb without a fight. With a great push of effort, he arches his back up, off the comfortable surface he’s laying on. And with what remains of his will, he wrenches his eyes open to survey his surroundings.

He cannot see a thing. White fills his vision, so bright and heated that it feels as if he is burning from the inside out, as if his very being is disintegrating the longer he looks at the light. It is blinding. It is everything. He cannot look away, nor can he close his eyes. His mouth has fallen open and he can hear himself screaming from the pain of it all, the radiance of the being in front of him.

“You stupid boy,” the voice snaps, sounding absolutely furious as the light coalesces into one solid shape, something that looks like a chest, then an arm, then a hand reaching towards him.

Anakin tries to scramble back, away from what will surely feel like a brand against his skin—and oh gods, doess he know what that feels like—but the hand extends faster than he can move, and even when he turns his head away, it catches him. It covers his eyes.

“Drink,” the voice murmurs, reverberating around him. Only then does Anakin notice that a cup has been brought to his lips. His lips seel themselves into a firm line. No. No. “You stupid child,” the voice snaps, “Do as you are told.”

It is the sheer power in the command that causes Anakin to open his mouth, to tip his head back. He is the lion among men, the Conqueror with No Fear, the Queen of Naboo’s Chosen Warrior, and yet—he opens his mouth and yields to the voice, to the hand over his eyes that burns. It feels like renewal, not pain, though that may be because every other part of his body still feels as if it is on fire, the aches from the first few moments of consciousness burning to ash under the pain of that radiance.

“Sleep,” the voice commands, and this time Anakin can do nothing but listen.

—---------

When he awakens next, he can tell from the breeze in the air that he has been moved. It is cool, and the breeze brushes against his skin like a gentle friend, running over his body to reach every part of him.

It is then he realizes that someone has stripped him of his clothes, his armor. He had been wearing armor. He had been preparing to lead his men into battle. He had—

The breeze in the air twirls around his chest and neck, caressing his skin until his nipples stiffen into peaks from the cold. Almost distantly, it sounds as if someone is laughing, an exhale over and over again that conveys their mirth, and Anakin can suddenly feel the breeze on his lips like a lover’s breath.

“Eurus, out,” a voice roars from somewhere that is everywhere and nowhere all at once. Anakin quakes from the sound of it, but the breeze withdraws, tosses out one last laugh that sounds almost like a cackle, before seemingly winking out of existence.

Anakin lies carefully still. The fabric beneath him feels soft, slippery. He’d been to the palace of Naboo only once to pay respect to the queen he fought his wars in the name of. Her personal chambers had been draped in a material that felt similar. So soft that it had felt then almost uncomfortable to touch. 

Anakin had been born a slave. He did not know soft things, nor how to languish against them. The queen had tried to show him how, had made such a persistent overture in the name of pleasure that he had sworn his loyalty to her name—but, privately, to her figure against those silks, the line of her throat, the tilt of her chin as she gave ground and submitted to his desires—and yet he still could never relax in the comfort her status and love had offered. He was not made for it.

He was not made for these silks either, though they certainly felt different against his skin. 

“You are too perfect for your own good, my darling,” the voice says quietly, a hand running through Anakin’s hair carefully. The motion is one filled with strange devotion. Tenderness. “Your beauty could start a war amongst the gods themselves, for they would all like to take you, to have you. Yet you are mine.” 

Anakin can feel his heart stutter at this declaration. The touch of his hair is no longer tender. It is proprietary. He opens his mouth, wets his lips. “I am no one’s,” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking. 

His defiance makes the voice laugh, a rich sound that reminds Anakin of the sounds of rocks tumbling down a mountainside. “You have sworn yourself to me, Anakin Skywalker, of course you are mine.”

“You are not my queen—“

“You would be wise to not speak of your infidelities so casually,” the voice snaps, and the hairs on Anakin’s arms stand as the air seems to fill with electricity. “You have no queen here.” 

Anakin is silent, his mind and heart racing. Has he been captured? Is he a slave again? He would rather die. 

“Open your eyes, darling. Look upon me and allow me to see the reward of my labor,” the voice turns soft again, coaxing, and the hand leaves his hair to trail down the side of his face, thumb brushing over the bow of his lips.

“Hurt,” Anakin manages to say. The thumb takes his parted lips as invitation and presses into his mouth to rest against his teeth. Anakin thinks about biting it, but there is something inside him that screams at him to be careful. To tread carefully around this voice. This man.

“I know,” the voice croons, “and I apologize for it, treasure. I had not expected you to wake so soon after your ordeal and was not prepared. Humans cannot bear to look upon my godly form. Those who have have perished. You have frightened me with your recklessness.” 

The thumb presses down hard before it withdraws.

“Open your eyes, Anakin,” the voice says. “Your king demands it.” 

Gingerly, carefully, Anakin opens his eyes.

He is met immediately with the sight of a man leaning over him. His face is lined with a well-kept beard, short and practical and dark red. His hair too is the same color of russet, pushed up and off his forehead in a rakish cut. His eyes though—Anakin cannot look away from them. They are glittering, electric blue. No—they are the color of the sky before a thunderstorm, whirling points of gray and dark blue. No—they the early morning sky in the north of Naboo, slate gray and bright.

“Hello there, darling,” the man says. He strokes Anakin’s cheek again, resting his broad hand against his skin.

Anakin can do nothing but stare. This man—he is handsome beyond imagination, but there is something in the set of his face, the jut of his lips, his jaw—perhaps something in his eyes that screams danger.

He is so perfect that he is almost unreal.

“I will miss the blue of your eyes,” the man murmurs, looking at him intently. Critically.

Hungrily.

“What?” Anakin whispers.

The man continues as if he has not heard him. “Yet there is something deeply satisfying in seeing your eyes stained gold from my blood. You wear it well, darling, your godhood.”

Anakin shakes his head. The man’s words—they do not make sense though he says them in the manner any sane man speaks. 

“Truly you were born to be mine,” the man whispers like a sacred declaration, and this finally causes Anakin to flinch away.

“I am no one’s,” he says again, shifting off the fabrics and pushing himself to stand. He was wrong earlier—he is not fully nude, though he thinks he’d prefer to be. There is a cloth like a skirt around his hips, though the fabric only covers the area between his legs, held together by clasps that lay against his hips. And even then, it is light and transparent and doing little to protect his modesty. His chest is bare, but his upper arms have been wrapped in gold coils, one short and one extending almost to his elbow.

The man before him has dressed him as a child would dress a doll and it infuriates him. He is Anakin Skywalker, a lion among men, and he will not suffer this.

“I am no one’s,” he declares with a snarl, turning upon the man and striding forward. “Release me at once!”

The man arches a singular eyebrow but otherwise appears completely unaffected. Anakin feels like roaring, like taking his face into his hands and ripping it apart. 

“Where am I?” He interrogates as he stalks towards the man. Though he is handsome and though he appears strong, his bare torso as visible as Anakin’s and just as well-muscled, Anakin is a warrior and broader than this man, taller too.

Anakin can beat him into submission. 

“Why have you taken me? Return me at once, and I will let you live! I am Anakin Skywalker, I am the Resolute, I am the warrior with no fear and the Queen’s intended. I—”

The man, whose face had been unflinching in response to Anakin’s threats, stands at the mention of the queen, beautiful features twisting into a wicked snarl as he suddenly meets Anakin in the middle. The temperature in the room grows cold and the air becomes heavy with electricity. With something that Anakin does not know how to name.

“If you mention your queen once more, I will kill her,” the man bites out, every word weighted with promise. “I will kill her and see her soul damned to Tartarus. I will take her there myself and string her up amongst her kin. Thieves and pillagers and all those mortals who were foolish enough to attempt to steal from the king of the gods.”

Anakin flinches away, some long buried instinct in him insisting that he put space between himseslf and the predator staring down at him. “Who—who are you?” he asks, question catching in his throat. 

The man’s eyes, stormy blue now and swirling in his rage, lighten at the question. His mouth relaxes. He appears to enjoy answering, for he takes his time with it. “I find myself offended that you have forgotten,” he says, moving to touch Anakin again.

Like a frightened rabbit that knows it has found itself in the jaws of a lion, Anakin lets the bejeweled hands cup his face.

“I am the man who bought you and your mother from your masters when you were but a child. And I am the boy who sold you fruits that never seemed to bruise, no matter how you handled them as you walked home. I am the cat that lurked outside the god king’s temple as you prayed to him for strength and skill and riches, promised yourself to him in return, promised to wage every war in his name, conquer in his colors. And I am the old man who trained you in battle, showed you how to fight and kill and conquer.”

Anakin shakes his head, struck speechless at these words. They are the ramblings of an insane man, but…but this man knows too much about him. No one knows that he was born a slave. Even when he fucked Padmé, he had made sure that she could not see the brand on his leg.

He latches onto the last words, shaking his head harder. “Ben was a crippled old man. You are—” handsome, is the only word that comes to mind.

As if the man has heard it in his head, he grins, gifting him with a flash of white teeth. “Yes, he was, wasn’t he? And you were so young then, all of eighteen years old and eager to prove yourself. I thought if I took my most preferred form, this form, you would never pay attention to my lessons. And I knew if you had offered yourself to me then, I would not have turned you down. Nor would I have let you leave.” Anakin shakes his head once more, but there’s no power in the motion.

“I was the eagle that flew above you as marched into battle, and I was the handmaiden who bore witness to your betrayal, when you promised yourself to the queen of Naboo, as if you had not already promised yourself to me.”

The scowl has returned, marring the man’s perfect features.

Anakin swallows, wetting his lips. “I promised myself to the king of the gods,” he whispers. “To Kenobi.”

“And he has made good on your promise,” the man smiles, one hand falling from his face to cup his neck. “He has taken you from your battlefield, delivered you to Mount Olympus. I have taken you as mine, I have taken what is mine.”

Deep within Anakin, he knows that the man before him speaks the truth. That he is no man at all. That—that—that he is—

“Kenobi,” he whispers, and the king of the gods lets his eyes flutter shut as if he hearing his name from Anakin’s lips causes him great pleasure.

“Yes,” Kenobi growls, adjusting his hold on him to tug him closer to his body.

Anakin is touching a god. A god is touching Anakin. The king of the gods has taken him from the battlefield, from the arms of his bride to be, from the mortal realm all together.

And he is holding him like he has no intention of letting him go.

[avisisisis]

The pain of finding an interesting fanfic only to realize it's Ob*kin

[authortobenamedlater]

Well, “f—-ing hell” is generally my reaction to Obikin so I don’t blame Ewan for this one.

[kittenfangirl20]

I always had the headcanon that Anakin loves to cuddle especially with Padmé. In fact he doesn’t like that he has to act more reserved when he is in public because he is a Jedi because he would like to openly display how much he cares about someone.

[corruptcrow]

people who ship obikin are fucking disgusting, like obi knew anakin when he was a fucking child. even if they started dating as adults that'd still be fucking grooming

[ursa-majora]

Reblog if you think Ob*kin shippers don't deserve rights

[merrysithmas]

ill never get over how in the Mortis Arc the Son tells Anakin his love for Padme is "a prison" and "is not his destiny".

The only love I feel in my heart is haunted by what would happen should I let go [of my guilt for killing the Tuskens].

Then it is not love, it is a prison.

I have a wife- you've met her. She's everything to me.

She's not your destiny.

But I love her.

She is a poisoner.

i love filoni soooo much. he gets star wars, man. he sees anakin's attachment to padme is directly related to his desperation for his mother, and his grief. and his need to be absolved from the raider incident (which padme's acceptance of him gives to him). and that padme's attachment to anakin is hooked to her desperation for a girlhood that was robbed from her as an exploited child queen. she betrays her values as a senator of republic law to ignore anakin's crimes, because she so deeply needs what is essentially a love fantasy for herself where she is saved. it is doom, of course, for the both of them. and they both understand this cliff-hanging madness in each other, even if not for directly what it is in reality. poison.

and on Mortis Anakin's power as the Chosen One and heart is tested by the weight of the lives of his two truest loves - the people who see him the most clearly at that point: Ahsoka and Obiwan. the Father puts those two specifically in jeopardy because he knows this will show the real stuff of Anakin's soul.

and all of this happens on the theatre of Mortis which is the Force plane itself.

[toxicsludgeyaoi]

Toxic Sludge Yaoi Tournament: Ryusaito (Ai: The Somnium Files) Vs Obikin (Star Wars)

(No images provided. Vote for whichever you like more)

Propaganda under cut. Note: spoilers for these medias may be below.

Ryusaito propaganda

"Hmm I think someone needs to make Ryuki worse. Also there's one person in the tag so you should check 'em out"

Obikin propaganda

"“obikin really is the dynamic of all time. they're brothers, they're lovers, they're enemies, they're father and son they're mother and daughter they're alive because of each other they're alive in spite of each other” (@girlvader) Obi-wan cut off all his limbs, he raised him from the age of nine. He left him to burn alive, he spent the rest of his life watching over his children. He could never tell him he loved him until it was too late, he was the only father he ever knew."

[oibkenobi]

PSA

obi-wan raised anakin from the age of nine. while there are many ways to interpret their relationship, none of which are more right than another, there is a wrong way, and that is romantic.

aka if you ship ob*kin you need to take a breather and think about what you're saying, because that's really fucked up.

[hyraeth]

So, in an Obikin SVSSS AU, who would make more sense to transmigrate? 🤔

On one hand, Obi-Wan(Ben maybe) transmigrating to the role of.. Obi-Wan is great.

But Anakin is would be the obsessive fan on SW forums. Maybe Anakin transmigrating to Anakin's character and doing everything the system allowed so he wouldn't fall, but instead Obi-Wan does.

[nyptagypta]

How do i get people to stop tagging my posts with obikin??

[may-the-force-be-gay]

BRUH DOES ANYONE HAVE OBIKIN DISCORD SERVER INVITES BECAUSE IM GOING CRAZY. IM FINALLY USING DISCORD BUT I HAVE NOT JOINED ANY OBIKIN SERVERS YET 😭