#could be Obikin I guess

[lazerswordweilder]

Introducing my Balance Sibling au!

Anakin Skywalker, the poster-boy of the Republic, Jedi Padawan. Was the most confusing person Obi-Wan had ever met. They picked up the boy on Tatooine, and he was the most powerful force sensitive Obi-Wan had ever met, yet at such a young age he already shielded so well.

He was only 14 right now, the war had only been on for just two months, so why did the boy seem like an old, very tired, veteran who’d seen horrors beyond what Obi-Wan had dared to think of? Why didn’t he make an expression when he lost his arm, when he was shot, in his supposedly-first battle, at his first kill?

Like his force signature, Anakin heavily shielded his personality, Obi-Wan kept getting glances of who he suspected was the real boy; a man staring at a Coruscant sunset with a tear trailing down his check, looking at his mother with an expression of pain and grief, when he gave battle tactics and ordered around men like it was a second nature.

He had strange opinions on people, he was so very very careful to be kind and gentle to the younglings, he had a strange circle of friends (that seemed closer to allies) he’d chosen himself, he didn’t care what the council thought, and he never seemed to be able to trust or open up to Obi-Wan, there was clearly a barrier Obi-Wan couldn’t see.

Obi-Wan had also heard what his mother said about him, how the father was the force itself, how he was only half human, half mortal. And how it had showed, especially when he was young on Tatooine.

Obi-Wan knew Anakin had a holocron that he kept a diary in, he’d considered it too invasive to try and open it though (and try seemed the most important word there). But it was his duty to figure out what had happened to Anakin, and how to help him. So as he watched yet another sunset, tracing stars with awe filled eyes, Obi-Wan walked up to him.

“You were very good today. You saved many of the troopers with your knowledge.” I said

“Mhm.” Anakin replied, not turning to face me, I sighed

“We need to talk.” I started, sitting down

“The council asked something?” Anakin asked, something close to dry humor in his voice

“No, I decided this can’t go on any longer.”

“What can’t.” Anakin asked, eyes turning to watch me for the first time, the sunset made them look like they were lit on fire

“Whatever happened- is happening to you. You won’t let anyone in, I’m fairly certain there’s things you’re hiding from even your mother.”

“I think hiding things from parents is normal behaviour Obi-Wan.”

“You know what I mean. I don’t want to push, but I’m going to. I need to know the part of you that you’re hiding, there must be a reason you don’t let anyone in, you never stop shielding. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Anakin said, I would’ve laughed at that, but he said it like it was a well known fact not just what he thought

“Then explain it to me, if I don’t believe you what’s the worst that could happen? That I could do?” I explained

“You could think I was crazy and put me in a psych ward, you could hand me in to the council, you could do something stupid and get everyone killed.” Anakin listed without a pause

“It is truly that shocking?” I teased, Anakin didn’t smile

“You could not believe me, and keep pushing for a truth I’ve already given you.” he added

“Well what could go right if you let me in?” I asked, Anakin tilted his head a little, like he was giving it thought, but he answered quickly enough that I knew he must’ve thought about it at least a little.

“You could save everyone if I couldn’t for whatever reason, you could make it easier for me, I could not be lonely, you could forgive me, we could be a duo.” a silent again hung in the air, I didn’t know why.

“See? Don’t the benefits weigh over the risks? I’m not stupid enough to think that you couldn’t break out of any psych ward we put you in.” I said, it was both a tease and the truth

“It would make everything harder for me if I wasn’t in this position, I’m not sure I could do it while on the run from the Jedi and Senate.” he thought about it for a second again, before his face hardened “I’d have to do it anyways.”

“I promise I won’t put you in a psych ward, Anakin.” A pause, a long pause, I was scared to move, was it possible he’d really tell me after just one conversation? Had it been this easy the whole time?

“Do you believe in time travel Kenobi?”

6 - Masterpost

[tennessoui]

Hi Kit, soon is Mermay. 🧜🧜‍♂️🧜‍♀️ Will we get a cute ficlet for it?

i'm not sure if i'll have time for a proper mermay fic, but enjoy this lil snippet wherein obi-wan quite forgets to tell anakin that he is a mermaid!

(1.5k)

Anakin had always meant to approach the issue subtly and with great tact. After all, he’d decided years ago that it didn’t matter. That it didn’t change his opinion regarding his master in the slightest. Obi-Wan Kenobi was, and still is, one of the greatest Jedi in the Order. 

Him having a crippling fear of water does not change anything.

What does change things, unsurprisingly, is the war. 

Anakin has been deployed to Ravek for two point five weeks when Obi-Wan’s assist team touches down on the rocky coast next to the 501st’s camp. A large part of Anakin is enraged at the support; the mission objective is easy. Or, it would be if the peoples that Anakin has been tasked to negotiate with lived above ground and spoke any recognizable tongue at all. 

Either way, he’s not sure how more bodies will help matters. Even the great Negotiator cannot strike a deal with a species of people that he cannot communicate with.

When he wades out of the ocean after another failed attempt to talk with the fish people’s council, the first thing he sees is the ramp of a very recognizable ship opening to reveal his master.

Anakin raises a hand in greeting as he stalks towards the ramp, breathing apparatus curled around his neck, and wetsuit hanging half-unzipped off his body. 

“Master, I didn’t realize they’d be sending you,” he tells Obi-Wan, trying to keep the flare of annoyance out of the Force and his voice even as he grasps the other man’s arm in greeting. “I’m really not sure what more men will accomplish here. The Raveki don’t seem likely to bend the knee at a show of Republic force.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes sweep over him the way they always do after several weeks apart. Anakin knows that his master has not yet been able to shake the instinct to make sure that he is alright, unharmed. Still, a stubbornly persistent part of Anakin wishes his master were looking at him for an entirely different reason.

As if he can somehow hear the direction Anakin’s thoughts have drifted, Obi-Wan drops his arm with a dip of his head. His eyes move from Anakin’s chest up and out to the ocean behind him, and suddenly Anakin remembers another reason why Obi-Wan is wholly inappropriate for this mission.

Primarily because his master is terrified of open, deep water.

“Why did they send you?” Anakin asks, reaching out and wrapping his hand around his master’s shoulder in comfort. “Doesn’t the Council know about your…thing?”

It’s regrettable that he must throw caution and tact by the wayside, but he has little choice in the matter. Not if Obi-Wan is planning to swallow his fear in the name of service to the Order. Not if his master is really and truly planning to swim.

Force, Anakin isn’t even sure Obi-Wan knows how to swim. He hadn’t taught Anakin, that’s for sure. He’d foisted him off on Kit Fisto for those lessons and watched through the transparisteel windows above the Temple’s pools.

But it’s like his master doesn’t even remember his own trepidation, because he pats Anakin’s hand and says, “Yes, padawan. They’re aware. I imagine that is one of the reasons they chose me for this mission.”

Those sleemos! Obi-Wan should be able to get over his fear at his own pace, in his own time—he shouldn’t be forcefully assigned or pressured into accepting a mission that involves swimming in an ocean! 

Thank the Force Anakin is here. Maybe he can head off his stubborn master, sneak down to the ocean floor for one last aggressive negotiation session with the Raveki Council before his master gathers up the courage to try. Anakin will protect him from himself, even if Obi-Wan and his Council won’t.

But Obi-Wan seems to have not gotten this message either, because he’s already removing pieces of his armor, discarding them on the sand as he orders a sit-rep from nearby Rex.

“Master, you don’t have to do this,” Anakin tells him, fighting the urge to pick up Obi-Wan’s discarded tunic and throw it back over him. “Force, when did you even learn to swim?”

This question at least gets Obi-Wan’s attention back on him fully, and his master’s hands still on the waistband of his pants. His eyebrows pinch together and his mouth hangs slightly open in an expression of bafflement. “Sorry,” he says, “are you joking?”

Anakin frowns back at him. “No,” he snaps before moving closer and lowering his voice. He doesn’t want the other men milling about on the beach to hear, no matter how much his master seems to not care. Surely his master cares and is simply excellent at hiding his fear. Yes, there: when Anakin rests his hand on Obi-Wan’s waist, goosebumps emerge on the other man’s skin. A fear reaction that Obi-Wan cannot hide.

“C’mon, Master, I know you are afraid of deep water,” Anakin murmurs. “The Raveki live on the ocean floor. You cannot possibly feel alright going down there.”

“I’m afraid of deep water,” Obi-Wan repeats blankly. He doesn’t move out of Anakin’s touch at least, so maybe he’s getting some comfort from it. Anakin hopes that’s the case at least.

“I’ll go again,” Anakin says. “Let me try once more; I’ll get them to agree. You don’t have to do this.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth pinches and for a moment, he looks…considering, eyes flicking back between the ocean’s surf and the camp. Anakin tries to keep his face open and earnest.

“Ah,” his master says. “Right. My…aversion to water.”

“I don’t think any less of you for it,” Anakin tells him loyally. “You’re the best Jedi in the Order. And like you always told me, Jedi support each other and accept help when it’s offered. So you don’t—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupts, turning and placing a hand over his heart. Anakin is, understandably and immediately, shocked into silence. Obi-Wan’s palm is rough against his chest, skin to skin.

“Uh,” Anakin says. “Yeah?”

“I am Stewjoni. I am not averse to water.”

Anakin blinks. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, at this point it may be easier just to show you,” Obi-Wan says, expression wry as he turns from the shore and dives into the waves.

Anakin blinks again. 

And then suddenly, his master’s form is gone completely. It’s instinct to rush forward. To throw himself into the water as well. He knew his master couldn’t kriffing swim. He knew he should have just hogtied his master and put him safely back onto his ship. He knew—

His head breaks the surface at the same moment that strong arms wrap around his waist and lift him up. With only half his wetsuit on, the water is chilling to the bone.

But more importantly, his master’s face is only a few inches away from his own.

And—well, not more importantly because proximity to his master is always going to be at the top of his list of priorities, but of incredible importance is the fact that his master’s face…has changed.

There’s…scales on it, patches of blue-teal scales dotting his master’s neck and forehead, and his ears have…frills. In the same color.

And his teeth are sharp. Like fangs.

And…and on his neck are cuts, two on each side. Like…like the gills of a fish.

Obi-Wan lets out a high chattering sound that is absolutely unintelligible, and Anakin shakes his head. In confusion. In disbelief.

What the kark does I’m Stewjoni mean? 

Something slips around Anakin’s legs, firm and scaly, and he startles immediately with a panicked shout that makes Obi-Wan bare his teeth at him.

Wait, no. It makes Obi-Wan laugh at him. That’s the sound he’s making, that high-pitched sound. It’s laughter.

Because—because—Anakin looks down into the water and sees the blurry outline of a blue tail brushing his thigh. Obi-Wan is laughing because his…tail has startled Anakin. 

“What the kriff, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says faintly.

And then—then Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, moves his hand up to wrap around Anakin’s head and pushes them both underwater.

Anakin barely has time to let out a yell before Obi-Wan’s lips are covering his.

In a kiss.

Obi-Wan is a fish and now he is kissing Anakin.

This is playing havoc on Anakin’s list of priorities.

Apologies, dear one, Obi-Wan says as he pulls away. His mouth is moving in that unfamiliar way, but the words are coming from Anakin’s own head. It’s the only way we can understand each other, you see. 

Anakin doesn’t see. Anakin doesn’t see anything.

And I apologize as well that I…forgot to inform you of my condition, his master says, straight into Anakin’s mind as if it’s the most normal thing in the universe.

Anakin thinks he whimpers in response. He isn’t quite sure.

It’s rather inconvenient to transform, Obi-Wan is saying, so I’ve always tried to avoid the water. I didn’t realize you thought I was afraid of it. This transformation is common for Stewjonis. It leaves me quite well-equipped for this sort of negotiation, don't you agree?

[coirionin]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Original Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex, Owen Lars, Beru Whitesun, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, The Force Is Anakin Skywalker's Parent, Pregnant Anakin Skywalker, Immaculate Conception (Star Wars), Anakin convincing the Force to make him pregnant, thats literally what this is, and the consequences, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Has a Bad Time, The Horror of Childbirth, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, Mild Blood, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:

Anakin had always yearned for connection, a permanent tie that nothing could break, not fate, or death, not even his hands. Amid his desperation, with blood on his lips and stars in his eyes, he makes a wish that breaks him and remakes the entire galaxy all in one single, ragged breath.

... as his Mother had once done long ago and whispered the secret spell to surviving, that; no matter what, it will pass.

[paracosm-draw]

Obikin Slave AU - Scars

"Anakin, did you want to- Oh."

Obi-Wan stops on the threshold of the ship's tiny kitchen, words spluttering and dying on his tongue as his eyes fall on Anakin.

It's a common occurrence, these days, that the first thing on which his gaze lands upon when he enters a room is Anakin. No matter where he decides to spend his day - generally somewhere in the main room - is the place Obi-Wan's eyes will be drawn to immediately, in case he did miss the miniature sun that was his presence in the Force.

Keeping an eye on Anakin is making sure that he's doing alright, or at least that's what Obi-Wan likes to tell himself. Anakin won't ask for food, so Obi-Wan has to make sure he eats thrice a day. He won't tell when he's cold so Obi-Wan leaves clothes in evidence in all the rooms. He won't ask to use the 'fresher so Obi-Wan has to remember the last time he proposed him to do so. He won't ask for anything. So Obi-Wan has to observe and guess and remember. Yes, he probably doesn't have to stare at him as much as he does but it's for the young man's good. And for his defense, Anakin stares twice as much.

That's why what he sees when he enters the kitchen rattles him to his core. After spending so much time (five days) looking after Anakin, how could he haven't notice that ?

Anakin has his back to him when Obi-Wan finds him ; he looks focused on trying to figure out the kettle's functioning, focused enough to miss the sound of Obi-Wan's footsteps, and with the whistle of the boiling water it's only when he talks that the boy realizes that he's there. He jumps and jolts around like a loth-cat caught red handed stealing some cream. His mechanic hand doesn't follow, getting caught in the handle of the kettle and the movement makes it fly and clatter to the ground, splashing hot water all around the kitchen floor and Anakin's bare feet. The boy yelps in pain but before Obi-Wan can even intervene, he's already on the floor trying to fix the mess, a litany of distressed apologies pouring out of his mouth.

It takes a second for Obi-Wan to react to the scene, and his reflexes kick in when he sees Anakin reach out for the kettle with bare hands. Other Jedi would call it improper use of the Force but he's too far away and Anakin too panicked. He pushes the kettle on the other side of the room and gently holds Anakin's hand in the air with the use of the Force long enough to reach him.

"Are you okay ?!" He asks, worry taking over the rules he imposed himself when he takes Anakin's hand in his own to check for burns.

The skin is unharmed, gold and smooth, calloused on the fingers when Obi-Wan turns it around for further inspection.

"What about your feet ?" He asks then because he can't see as Anakin is sitting on them. "Are you burnt ? We have to get you to the shower. Can you walk ?"

After a few seconds of silence, Obi-Wan stops his frantic checking to actually look at Anakin. The boy is starring straight ahead with wet, wide eyes, chest heaving rapidly. He looks on the verge of crying. Obi-Wan's heart misses a beat.

"Are you in pain ? Does it hurt bad ? Wait, I'm going to help you to the shower. We'll put cool water on your feet and I think I have enough bacta-"

He's interrupted by a loud sob and next thing he knows, Anakin is crying, curled up on himself in the middle of the kitchen, in a puddle of water. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. It must hurt really bad for Anakin to cry like this but he can't help him if he doesn't want to move to the bathroom. He thinks about getting his first aid kit but as soon as he makes a move to stand up, Anakin starts muttering between two sobs.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean to, I swear ! I'm sorry, I- I..."

Obi-Wan frowns, and then he understands and the realisation makes his gut form into a tight knot. Anakin doesn't cry because he's hurt, he cries because he thinks he's done something wrong. Obi-Wan thinks about what he saw when he entered into the kitchen and he feels sick.

"Anakin..."

Gently, he wraps his fingers around the boy's wrist, detangling the hands he got clamped inside of his curls and tries to coax him to his feet.

"It's okay. Everything's alright. Accidents happen. I don't care about the kettle, I care about your feet. Let's go to the bathroom."

It takes a minute for Anakin to stop resisting, but then he follows Obi-Wan to the fresher. Still half-sobbing, half-muttering apologies but he follows.

Later on, after Obi-Wan convinced him to take the bed in order to apply bacta onto the burns, he's stopped crying but he has gone mute, watching the Jedi take care of him with a mix of wariness and disbelief clearly written on his features. Obi-Wan is trying not to care, being extra cautious with each of his touch.

"There, you're all patched up. It should be gone until tomorrow." He says softly, gathering the empty bacta packets in order to throw them out later. "Feeling better already?"

Anakin's jaw twitches nervously. His eyes travel from his feet to Obi-Wan's face, not knowing where to land. When he talks, it's really small.

"You're not going to punish me...?"

It's Obi-Wan's turn to feel something in his face twitch.

"Of course not. It was an accident. Actually it was my fault, I surprised you, I should have announced myself."

"You don't have to do that." Anakin frowns. "It's your ship."

"And you're my guest." Obi-Wan says. "I want you to feel as comfortable as possible. I'm not going to punish you for anything. Never. Nobody is going to punish you ever again, alright ?"

It sounds a little bit too much like a promise, but it feels right when he says it. He doesn't care if Anakin doesn't believe him yet. He will, eventually. Because Obi-Wan will make sure nobody ever raises a hand on him again. And the scars on Anakin's back will serve as a constant reminder of his promise.

[grapenehifics]

One of my favorite activities while watching Revenge of the Sith (to distract myself from the pain, I guess) is finding little moments that had the potential to change everything. Anakin comes so close to turning back and making better choices, so many times. There are many more, but my top three today are:

-Dooku crushes Obi-Wan under a heavy platform and Obi-Wan passes out (??) for a while but then gets up, fights a battle, and seemingly suffers no ill effects whatsoever. What if this were actually treated like a serious spinal injury and not just a convenient way to have Obi-Wan out of the picture so Sidious can convince Anakin to kill Dooku? Obi-Wan is hurt, either temporarily or permanently paralyzed from at least the waist down, and therefore in in the infirmary and obviously in no shape to go to Utapau. Anakin, being obviously concerned about his master, spends all of his meager free time at Obi-Wan's side rather than with Sidious, and harbors no resentment about not going to Utapau (he didn't want to leave Obi-Wan, or Padmé, anyway), and maybe actually manages to take a goddamn nap.

-Speaking of Utapau - on the landing platform, Anakin says he wants to go with Obi-Wan, and that he could be helpful. Obi-Wan agrees that no doubt he would be. What if he actually did it? Obi-Wan's a Master, a General, and a Councillor. I'm sure he has the authority to say, "You know what, you're right, Anakin. Grab your things and let's go." I'm not sure this would be enough to avoid Order 66, but it would keep Anakin out of Sidious' way, and maybe he and Obi-Wan would return to the Temple together, only this time to save the younglings rather than murder them.

-A big part of Sidious' pitch to Anakin is that he and he alone possesses the knowledge to save Padmé (and by extension Anakin and Padmé's unborn child). That's Anakin's whole deal with killing Master Windu - he first tries to argue that Palpatine should stand trial, and it's only after Windu argues against that plan that Anakin takes Palpatine's side. But then immediately after, Palpatine says, and I'm paraphrasing but he basically admits, 'okay so I don't actually know how to save your wife. But uhhh you're really strong in the Force soooo I'm sure together you and I will be able to figure it out."

And Anakin just goes along with this! I realize he doesn't have (or, doesn't think he has, which are two different things) any better options on the table, but it feels very Anakin to me for him to be like, "um, wait a second, my new master. I thought you said you'd tell me how to keep people from dying? Padmé could die tomorrow. We do not have time to sit around in the Sith library and 'figure it out together'. You lied to me!" Anakin hates being lied to. This is an immediately stab-worthy offense.

This of course doesn't address Anakin's raging attachment issues nor his misplaced distrust of the Jedi, but it does prevent the creation of the Empire so all in all I'd take this as a win.

Anyway. I'm deep in the weeds of an entirely different RotS rewrite and don't have time to take on another, much less three, but they're enjoyable scenarios to think about, at least. They don't even need to be endgame Obikin...even if I personally think of them that way :D

[kingdomvel]

stardew valley obikin au?? 👀

YES! I was thinking of my Stardew Valley au and if you mix some of the harvey lore with me watching all creatures great and small and some ww1 movies you get.... this. (and Anakin being a bit intense and Obi-Wan totally letting him)

The door was unlocked. It doesn’t matter that the door to the doctor’s house is always unlocked in their little community. The door was unlocked, so Anakin doesn’t feel guilty about coming inside. Or wandering once in.

Obi-Wan was not in his office when Anakin came in, the place deserted. He was also not in his sitting room or kitchen when Anakin looked for him there.

It is… odd. Anakin knows that Obi-Wan is usually home at this time of the day, usually sitting reading a book if he is not seeing any patient. Anakin stands at the foot of the stairs, contemplating what to do. He can’t just come up, that would be… no, he can’t. Obi-Wan may not be in, he may be at the pub just at the other side of the street. He is about to come out when he hears it. Obi-Wan’s voice, coming from upstairs.

Anakin turns to look at the telephone at the foot of the stairs, and then up those stairs. Obi-Wan, Doctor Kenobi… he can’t have someone upstairs with him. It’s just not possible. He is not married, he doesn’t have a housekeeper. There’s no one he could be talking to upstairs. Anakin hears Obi-Wan’s laugh and before he realises, he is halfway up the stairs.

He has never been upstairs before. There are a couple of closed doors and one left ajar, the light filtering out of it. Obi-Wan’s voice comes from inside, it calls to Anakin like a beacon.

Anakin looks through the space between the door and the frame. Obi-Wan is inside, sitting in front of a desk in his shirtsleeves. His jacket hanging from the back of the chair. The light coming from the window at his other side makes his hair and beard shine with a ginger hue.

“I got some report of strong wind coming from the north, be careful. Over.” Obi-Wan says into the microphone in front of him. There’s an indistinct sound that comes from the headphones on his head. A new chuckle. Anakin looks as he pushes a button. “Oh, I’m not doubting your flying skills, Resolute. Over.”

Anakin pushes inside. The movement makes Obi-Wan turn to him with a sharp move. He looks at Anakin with a small smile on his face before he leans back into the mic.

“Have a safe flight, Resolute. And careful of the north wind, over and out.”

Obi-Wan touches a switch and the red light from the machine turns off. He takes his headphones off and turns towards Anakin.

“Anakin, what-“

“What is that?” Anakin interrupts him.

“A radio,” Obi-Wan explains, though Anakin had guessed as much.

“I know, but who were you talking to?”

“Just an aeroplane flying overhead. Come, we should be able to see it in a moment.”

Obi-Wan goes to stand by the window and Anakin joins him. Just like Obi-Wan said, an airplane flies by a second later.

“Oh, look at her, she is a beauty,” Obi-Wan whispers. Anakin shouldn’t feel jealous of a plane, but he finds that he does. He can’t argue though, she is a beauty.

“I didn’t know you liked planes.”

“I do. The radio thing… It’s an old habit from the war.”

“You fought in the war?” Anakin asks. It’s a bit stupid, Obi-Wan is older than him, of course he did.

“Well, I- Let’s go downstairs, I will prepare some tea.”

Anakin sits on the sofa as Obi-Wan fills his cup of tea from the pot. He has not mentioned anything about Anakin wandering into his house without an invitation, as if it was a normal occurrence.

“The war was a terrible thing,” Obi-Wan says as he puts the pot down. “I enlisted to serve as a pilot, I even completed the entire training, but then they found out I had attended medical school and they decided that I would be more useful as a Doctor than up in the air. It was a bit frustrating at the moment, but it ultimately ended up being the best choice. I still wanted to help the men who I trained with, so I snuck into the radio rooms when I had some spare time and helped them from there. The habit stuck, I guess.”

“So you didn’t actually fight?”

“I did. I served as a combat medic in the trenches for a couple of years before I was shot on the leg and moved to a campaign hospital.”

Anakin’s eyes focus on Obi-Wan’s hand holding his right thigh.

“I wish I had fought too.”

“Don’t say that,” Obi-Wan says, his voice soft. “You must have been, what? Fourteen? You are lucky you got spared from fighting.”

“I wanted to do something.”

“Don’t be so eager to hurt yourself, you are already stressing me as it is. I moved to the countryside to have some peace and quiet, but you seem determined to completely  alter my plans, don’t you?”

There is no bite in his words.

[himboskywalker]

Been mulling this over and I finally decided to be a shit stirrer today. I don't write bottom Obi-Wan for multiple reasons and I'm going to be meanly honest in a way I don't think I've ever been on here.

I just don't like it most the time, I think the predominant amount of fandom uwu mommy bottomWan takes are wildly out of character, sometimes outright ridiculous, and a lot of it gives me the ick. But for all of you guys who DO like it, I'm happy for you, I'm so glad you guys have lots of brilliant writers who do write what you prefer or enjoy, and I couldn't be happier to share this ship with you guys.

But here's my problem. I don't know what it is about this demographic of obikin fans and I know, believe me I know it's not all bottom Obi-Wan fans, but boy is there a vocal chunk that has put a bad taste in my mouth. No, I don't want to fucking write it, or certainly not in the way you want. No, I don't agree with you, and no I don't appreciate people who prefer bottom Obi-Wan whining in my inbox or in other authors' and artists' inboxes that awwww jeeee I really would enjoy your writing more if you'd just write it exactly how I want. There are PLENTY of brilliant obikin authors who are wonderfully talented and who I deeply respect who DO write what you guys like, so WHY in god's fucking name, is there a very loud chunk of bottomwan fans who are constantly making trouble for fellow fans in the same godamn ship who approach it or enjoy different aspects than them?

I'm sure there are obikins who prefer bottom Anakin who are just as bad and annoying and problem causing, but it certainly feels like the most vocal are in a different camp. Guys, it does not fucking matter. If you don't like that I write mostly if not entirely bottom Anakin, then go somewhere else and read someone who does write to your preferences. The more messages I get through the years of bottomWan stans whining to me about not writing what they like, the more sour I get on the matter.

The fact of the matter is, I might have been inclined several years ago to write Obikin with more variety of top/bottom. But then I had interactions like this, and I decided to NOT write it on pure, vindictive principal. And even though I might have been inclined lately to finally write outside of my comfort zone and branch out, shit like this makes an author say, you know what fuck you, you're not getting anything from me.

I am so sick to death of this stupid discourse in this ship, and I am sick to death of getting pushy, whiny comments from folks who just uwu can't like my stuff. Guess what man, I could not give less of a shit what you think about my writing or what you want from me.

[ragnarlothcat]

What's rashomon, doesn't ring a bell?

I don't think I talked about this one on tumblr at all! Basically there is an attack on the senate and two people die in Palpatine's office. A Coruscant investigator is sent and they get to interview everyone who was around at the time and piece together their overlapping and occasionally contradictory stories, which is why the document title is Rashomon, like the movie. There's obikin in the background but because it's an outsider POV it's really only hinted at while the silly intrigue takes centre stage.

I sort of abandoned this fic because it was getting too long and technical when my primary motivation is usually to write something funny and/or smutty. But here's the first interview I've written at least!

Testimony of CC-1010, Commander Fox. Recorded by Inspector Kato

“I don’t see why we need the Coruscant Police involved at all. This is Coruscant Guard business, Inspector Kato. I promise we’re plenty qualified to hunt down whoever’s responsible.”

“No one’s questioning your expertise, Commander, but given the assailant was able to make their way deep into the senate and into the chancellor’s personal office, an outside investigation seemed prudent.”

“Are you suggesting one of my men let that rankweed bastard into the senate?”

“Not at all. We’d just like to know exactly what happened. In your own words.”

“I didn’t see the attack myself, you understand. I just hightailed my way up once I heard the commotion. The chancellor has his own personal security usually, the Red Guard. Really, they ought to have been the ones to die for him instead of that poor, helpless secretary boy.”

“A tragedy, yes.”

“But they were nowhere to be found when I showed up there myself, quick as you like. I nearly missed him at first because nothing seemed amiss but when I looked closer I saw the kid lying on the floor right behind his desk, obviously terrified. And obviously dead.

“My first thought was that something must have happened to the chancellor—we’ve been getting some threats after the last failed peace talk—so I rushed deeper into the chambers and saw the destruction. The rooms are huge and everywhere I went it looked like a tornado had blown through. If someone was going to slip in and murder the chancellor, I’d always expected they’d do it quietly, you know? He’s an old man. But I guess this guy wanted to make a statement.

“Well, right away I saw that dead Zabrak on the floor. Nasty-looking fellow, snarling and spiked and all twisted up in crimson and black. I didn’t want to get too close, and there wasn’t any need when the man was obviously dead, but I guess I was pretty intent on him. Usually I’m hard to sneak up on but while I was trying to identify the assailant the chancellor himself appeared right beside me.

“He looked totally unhurt, which is a mercy, and he looked awfully surprised. No wonder: these politicians don’t see much of the galaxy outside their offices and here was the chancellor, staring down a fresh corpse. At that moment I decided the most important thing was getting Chancellor Palpatine clear of the room, in case the Zabrak had any co-conspirators or anything lurking about so I hurried him out."

“Chancellor Palpatine wasn’t in his office during the attack? Where was he?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere else. It’s not my job to babysit him. And it’s as I say, we got out of there in a flash. The chancellor’s never been so cooperative with me before, honestly. I guess the sight of those dead people all over his office floor must have shaken him. I doubt his heart could take much more of it. But he seemed almost anxious to get us away from the scene, like he was afraid I’d mess it up or something. I suppose he’s the one who called you, then?”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information. So you didn’t have time to examine the scene in much detail."

"I saw enough. I have a good eye for detail, inspector, and a good memory."

"Do you have any idea how the assailant might have gotten into Chancellor Palpatine’s office?”

“Through the door, probably. Thousands of people come through here a day. Looks to me like the Zabrak came storming in to murder the chancellor, killed the secretary on his way in and then got caught by some Jedi and taken down.”

“Why do you say some Jedi?”

“Whatever killed the Zabrak instantly cauterized his wounds. I don’t know about you, Inspector, but I can’t think of any weapon that does that, other than a lightsaber.”

“Have you seen a lot of lightsaber wounds in the senate?”

“There’s plenty of danger here on Coruscant. As I’m sure you well know, Inspector. Enough that sometimes I think I’d rather be out on the Front. At least there you know who your enemies are. Besides, we clones were engineered for combat, not for clerical work.”

“Just one more thing before you go: we found something unusual just outside the chancellor’s doors. An item of clothing.”

“Dropped by the assailant?”

“I’d think that unlikely. It’s rather impractical and��ornate.”

“Ornate, huh? I guess you could talk to Senator Amidala, from Naboo. She’d probably recognize it if it has any significance to the case. Come to think of it, she had an appointment scheduled with the chancellor today. Maybe she saw something that could help you out.”

"Thank you for your time, Commander Fox."

[edgeofn1ght]

all you conceal, let out: ch. 1

After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)

alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead

Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him – 

“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto. 

Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson. 

If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.

But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.

As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.

‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone. 

Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky. 

So where the hell was here? 

Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life. 

He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole. 

He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?

Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway. 

As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam. 

Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either. 

"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt. 

He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night. 

But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew. 

A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer.  “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try. 

Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.

Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then – 

Nothing more.

For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.

Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula. 

When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head.  But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.

Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan. 

Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again. 

So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved. 

Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that. 

And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize. 

He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him.  Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped. 

"Ah, you're awake."

Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly. 

“Take it easy!” The voice warned. 

He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive . 

He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose. 

He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.

He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest. 

"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.  

Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side. 

"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there. 

Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"

Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."

"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"

Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down. 

Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"

"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."

This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan. 

Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.

Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up. 

"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"

"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so. 

Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back. 

"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.  

“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled. 

“You won’t though.”

Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither. 

Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed. 

“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.

Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan. 

But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.  

In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer. 

Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket. 

“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen. 

This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow. 

Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved. 

The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber. 

Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again. 

He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden. 

Just like in his dream.

His heart rate picked up again. 

Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream? 

Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream. 

He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile. 

“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face. 

“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it. 

They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.

Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”

As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”

“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look. 

Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.

But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?

He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction. 

Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."

"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth. 

Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?" 

“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”

Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?” 

"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."

Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"

Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.

"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.

Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said. 

He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.” 

"Anakin," Ben repeated softly. 

He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him. 

After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."

Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”  

Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"

"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.

Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why. 

"And what of the war?" 

"What war?"

“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"

Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.” 

Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."

Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing. 

He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong. 

Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."

Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"

"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen. 

He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow. 

If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.

Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.

[passionat3]

obi-wan, anakin, obikin and my thoughts under the cut

so the surface-level textual conflict of obi-wan and anakin's relationship is that anakin sees obi-wan as a father, while obi-wan sees anakin as a brother. but the fact that they said that, indicates to me that they didn't know how to express their relationship in words, because it lived as an unspoken feeling.

in the early days, they must have become attached so quickly. obi-wan had lost qui-gon, anakin had lost his mother. obi-wan was a young master, hardly knighted, anakin was a padawan too old to be a youngling and young to be a padawan. not to mention that he belonged to the chosen one prophecy. they must have latched onto each other, not quite feeling like they belonged anywhere but with each other.

im reminded of what andromache says to hector in the illiad:

"You, Hector – you are my father now, my noble mother, / a brother too, and you are my husband, young and warm and strong!"

andromache has of course lost her parents and her brothers, and so hector is all for her. so it goes with anakin and obi-wan. they need each other, and they need to be needed.

this need could so easily become romantic as they grew older -- anakin was not so young and obi-wan was not so old. perhaps it would not ideal, but relationships are strange and complicated. and at some point anakin is not a child anymore. at some point they do become equals in the eyes of others, if not each other. this we see throughout tcw, where they stand shoulder to shoulder.

of course in canon we have padmé, and I think there's a pretty simple reason for that. anakin wants unconditional love. he doesn't want criticism or to be told that something is wrong, even when it is necessary for growth.

we see time and time again that he wanted this from obi-wan! he loved obi-wan first, so to say. but he didn't get it from obi-wan because he wouldn't give it, it wouldn't be right or healthy or something a jedi could even give. obi-wan instead did what someone who loved anakin would do, help him be better.

padmé on the other hand accepted all of anakin's wrongdoings. killing a bunch of children! fascist ideas! that's fine, I guess!

and obi-wan wasn't hard on anakin, not really, we see that he made exceptions, was softer when it came to anakin than anything else. and we see too, that anakin is better with obi-wan than without him.

so that's why I like obikin, even if it's a little weird. because there's something very compelling and strong about their relationship, and there's definitely love.

[mysticmjolnir]

lying awake thinking about friends with benefits force ghosts obikin

the sheer level of emotional incompetence required to be immortal beings, with no worldly duties left except drop by Luke occasionally and offer cryptic advice, bound together in the Force forevermore after a lifetime of love and stuggle and destiny, and be unable to commit to more than a casual sexual relationship. I mean if anyone could do it it's them i guess

[sharksonfire]

Fic Reading Stats - January 2025

I always break the AO3 Wrapped bots with the sheer number of fics I read in a year, so this year, I've decided to keep a manual record (thanks AO3 history!) in a spreadsheet and see what happens.

So... I'm not gonna lie, I was a little shocked to see the total number of fics I managed to read, averaging out to a little over nine fics a day, but then again, I've always been a fairly avid reader. This is also not including the actual physical books I've read this month (ten and a half thus far, roughly 200+ pages each, with the half being over 500 pages). Luckily, the kind of work I do and the sporadic schedule that goes with it means I have plenty of downtime, and I quite enjoy curling up with my phone or laptop and watching a TV while reading.

The word count was also a lot higher than I was expecting, but considering my top read fandom (basically the only fandom I read for this month, with the exception of two Trainspotting fics) was Star Wars, I guess I probably should've expected it to be high. Some of you Star Wars authors can really write!! (And I am definitely not complaining, those novel length fics keep me motivated lol). I've been on a massive Star Wars bend lately, so I'm interested to see what fandoms come through during the rest of the year - if any.

My top read ships were Quiobi and Obikin, but collectively you could probably just say Obi-Wan ships in general were my top ships because boy do I love seeing that man In Situations. Again, I'm keen to see where my reading goes throughout the year in regards to ships and stuff.

I wasn't really keeping track of additional tags, I might start doing it in February, but I know without checking that my top tags were probably kink tags and Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics because I'm nothing if not predictable (staunch Omegaverse author of the last fifteen years).

Fics Read: 283 Words Read: 4,890,480 Top Fandom: Star Wars (281 fics) Top Ship/s: Quiobi, Obikin (77 fics/74 fics) Top Rating: E (252 fics) Most Read Day: Jan 13 (20 fics)

[tennessoui]

what about some sort of buddy cop, same age, enemies to lovers au where obi-wan is a jedi and anakin is a coruscanti detective and they literally hate each other and have no respect for the other (obi-wan thinks anakin is a waste of the coruscant budget and a jedi wannabe; anakin thinks obi-wan is a pretentious space monk asshole)

(anakin has personally arrested obi-wan for speeding three times, drinking in public spaces 4 times -- the public space was a bar btw -- and indecent public exposure once. that last one was, tbh, fair cause obi-wan had his dick out in an alley way lol)

(obi-wan has literally stalked this asshole coruscanti cop off planet before and arrested him in his capacity as Jedi Knight for not using his turn signal when changing hyperspace lanes (once), for podracing betting (3 times), and for possession of a galacticly banned substance (twice))

it's not that they're obsessed with each other, it's just that something keeps forcing them together in the wildest, most unpredictable situations, and it's annoying as hell because they're completely fed up with each other

then the senate moves to have a new task force stood up to solve a series of Force-related crimes in the Coruscanti underworld. the task force would include a representative from the Jedi Temple and one from the Coruscanti guards, obviously. and really, obi-wan and anakin are the perfect choices! they're both highly intelligent, dedicated, trustworthy, and incorruptible.

if only they'd stop trying to push each other off the 51st story of coruscant and actually put their heads together to solve the crime

[renlyslittlerose]

Kinktober Day 23 - Virginity

Today's prompt: hi are you still accepting kinktober prompts? can i request obikin's first time? you've referenced obi wan making moves on anakin just after his knighting in a couple of the fic so far and i'd love to see how that went down xx

Intertwined - 4,645 (lol) Rating: E Content: Loss of virginity; First time; Top Obi-Wan; Bottom Anakin; Anal sex

---

“Are you finished eating?”

“I guess I could—”

Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s wrist and tugged him up from his chair in the dining hall. Obi-Wan mumbled a quick apology to the rest of the table, fellow Jedi staring at the pair with raised brows as Anakin was practically dragged from the hall by his Master.

“What’s going on?” Anakin asked, the ghost of a laugh on his lips. He stumbled but stayed upright, his long legs catching him as they rounded a corner.

Obi-Wan kept his grip on Anakin’s wrist, his skin soft and warm to the touch, pulse point already beating rapidly.

“You’ll see,” Obi-Wan said, and tugged Anakin further along.

They rounded another corner before following the hallway toward Obi-Wan’s quarters. It was only early evening, the sun still hovering above the horizon, with fellow Jedi tending to their duties. Obi-Wan knew it was brash and reckless and perhaps unseemly, but he couldn’t wait any longer than he already had. Anakin had been taken from him after being knighted, ceremony and courtesies having to be seen to that distracted them both, Anakin being pulled in one direction while Obi-Wan was expected to look the other way - to be contented with letting Anakin leave him to forge his own path.

But they both knew that would never be the case. Even as Anakin’s Padawan braid was cut the bond between them remained just as tight. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin as much as Anakin could feel him, a steady comfort broken up with spikes of fear, dashes of annoyance, and a persistent ache of longing. A longing that Obi-Wan had tried to quell - to swallow down whenever he caught himself staring too long at the length of Anakin’s lashes, or the jutting of his bottom lip, plush and pink and wet. Or the way Anakin’s body felt against his own while they sparred, muscles forming, his youthful limbs solidifying, the scent of him changing from pungent and sour to thick and dense.

It was improper to desire Anakin and they both knew it. Even though Anakin would stare at Obi-Wan in much the same manner, his focus sharp and his intentions clear. But Anakin was his Padawan - his charge, a boy he was meant to raise and protect.

Only he wasn’t anymore.

The braid had been clipped, their duty to each other complete, their bond softened.

It was still improper; still beyond what was right and honourable. And yet Obi-Wan didn’t care.

They slipped into Obi-Wan’s quarters, Anakin laughing as Obi-Wan swung him into the centre, their hands unclasping just at the last moment. The door shut and Obi-Wan locked it, his hands trembling as he pressed the buttons and turned back around. Anakin was stood in the centre, his robes fitting him more firmly around the chest and along his shoulders every day. It was still odd to not see the familiar braid hanging from behind his ear, the ends of it brushing the leathers of his tabards. His hair was still shorne and soft to the touch, but Obi-Wan had been obsessed with the small curls that appeared at the base of his skull and around his ears for almost a year.

Anakin smiled at Obi-Wan, a blush on his cheeks that shone through the bronze and golden tones of his skin. He was playing with the sleeves of his tunic, his grip tight and knuckles white as he ducked his head and looked at Obi-Wan through his lashes. Obi-Wan felt weighted and light all at the same time - like he’d float off into the stratosphere without proper mooring, but also like he’d sink in place if he didn’t move right away. If he didn’t take his chance. If he didn’t seize the moment.

The force hummed around them; a flicker that soon turned into a flame, once warm and now overwhelming. Obi-Wan knew Anakin could feel it - could see it in how he rocked on his feet and stared at Obi-Wan, unblinking and focused, ready for whatever lessons Obi-Wan had yet to impart on him.

Deciding that he’d rather float off into space than remain stuck to the ground, Obi-Wan surged forward and cupped Anakin’s cheeks between his hands. A moment passed as the two stared at each other, Anakin’s breath stuttering and smelling of sweets he’d eaten in the cafeteria. His skin was hot and soft, baby hairs along his cheeks giving way to the start of facial hair that Obi-Wan would hate to see develop further.

“Master,” Anakin whispered.

They locked eyes, dark blue with light, before Obi-Wan closed the gap.

Anakin gasped before moaning, soft and thrilling as they pressed their lips together. It wasn’t sweet nor slow, the build-up to all of this years in the making, with buckets of salt and tears spilled over just the thought of this moment - of this first kiss. Anakin was inexperienced, his grip tight along Obi-Wan’s waist, his lips wet and parted as Obi-Wan delved inside and licked across his palate. He let out another moan, desperate and needy, and Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut as he went in for more.

“Master,” Anakin whispered again, breath wet across Obi-Wan’s lips as he was devoured.

“You’re so sweet,” Obi-Wan said, his own voice sounding desperate in his head. He didn’t care and kissed along Anakin’s jaw and down his neck, tugging and pulling at the dense material of his tunic to reach more. “Such a darling thing.”

Anakin stepped forward, pressing himself against Obi-Wan, his hands still gripping Obi-Wan’s waist like he was holding on for dear life. Or like he didn’t know what to do. The fact that Anakin had never had sex before came rocketing up into Obi-Wan’s mind, and force save him, it made his cock throb obscenely in his leggings. Grabbing Anakin’s wrist, Obi-Wan dragged him toward the bedroom, their footsteps quick across the tiled floor.

He’d made his bed as he always did, sheets firm across the mattress, pillows fluffed, creases from the night before evident in the centre despite it all. He pushed Anakin down on to the bed and Anakin landed with a huff, all long limbs and eagerness as he shifted around. His tabards slipped open across his hips, exposing the outline of his cock as it strained against his leggings.

Obi-Wan whimpered and palmed himself a few times, overcome with the sight of Anakin on his bed, splayed out and waiting - always waiting, whether it be for instruction, for guidance, for Obi-Wan’s steady hand across his back and between his shoulder blades, grounding him. Anakin watched the action with hungry eyes, his lips parting in another moan. Obi-Wan knew Anakin was vocal - had heard him touching himself a few times during their longer missions over the years, wet, frantic gasps pushing through the tent walls or sometimes, when Anakin was feeling brash and bold, from right next to Obi-Wan. At first Obi-Wan had been embarrassed, and then it had become part and parcel with living with a young man.

And then it became something more; something that Obi-Wan wanted to swallow for himself.

The tips of Anakin’s fingers danced along the edges of his belt, his eyes locked on Obi-Wan as his cock spilled into his leggings, a wet spot appearing on the brown material. Obi-Wan sighed and stepped forward, wanting to undress Anakin for himself - unwrap him, and delight in the beauty on offer. A beauty just for him.

His hands trembled as he unclasped Anakin’s belt and made move to remove the folds of fabric across his frame. Strips of bronze skin was slowly revealed to him, Obi-Wan’s hands broad and flat against Anakin’s stomach. He reveled in how Anakin’s muscles stuttered beneath his touch, breathing frantic and excited. He pushed more away to reveal Anakin’s nipples, dusty pink and pert, and without thinking too hard he ducked down and laved his tongue across one.

Anakin mewled and cupped the back of Obi-Wan’s head as he pushed up into the touch, demanding more. Obi-Wan gave it to him, tongue slick across the hardened nub as he sucked, his hands slipping beneath Anakin’s robes to run along his ribs and back. Anakin started bucking up, grinding his cock against Obi-Wan’s stomach, touch desperate as he gripped Obi-Wan’s hair and pulled.

Raising his head Obi-Wan brushed spit from his beard, the hairs course against the pads of his thumb. He wanted to burn Anakin with them - rub his face along ever expanse and groove of Anakin’s body, coating himself in Anakin’s scent and his essence, and to see bronzed skin turned pink and red from the scratch of his beard.

“Patience, darling,” Obi-Wan mumbled as Anakin scrambled beneath him, trying to keep him in place.

“I c-cant, Obi-Wan. I just want you.”

Obi-Wan’s cock throbbed, already thick and swollen between his legs.

“And you’ll have me,” he said as he continued to undress Anakin. “You just need to hold on a moment longer.”

The more of Anakin’s body that was revealed, the more impatient Obi-Wan became. He’d seen Anakin naked before but they had always been hurried glances in the fresher, Obi-Wan following the long plains of his body, admiring how the water collected across Anakin’s shoulders and stomach; how it dripped off his soft cock, pearls of it sliding along the length and the foreskin that covered his pretty, pink head. Eventually he’d look up and realize Anakin was staring as well, and before they could make eye-contact Obi-Wan would look away and stare at the tile wall, cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal.

But he could admire now, freely and without shame. Anakin lay beneath Obi-Wan entirely naked, his long and elegant cock hard between his legs, his balls full, hair thick and curled around the base of his length. Obi-Wan watched as a string of precome slid down his length, making his cock glisten beneath the light of the setting sun.

Anakin didn’t shy from obi-Wan’s gaze, his body open, legs spread, lips parted as he gazed up at Obi-Wan through heavy lidded eyes, luring him closer. He had no shame.

Obi-Wan wondered where he got that from.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin huffed.

Obi-Wan let out a small laugh, embarrassment flush in his chest as he started to undress. “Sorry, darling. Just a little caught up in everything.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen,” Anakin said. He smiled then, low and seductive, his eyes tracing the lines of Obi-Wan’s face before falling further down as Obi-Wan exposed more and more of himself. “Caught you staring multiple times - in the shower, in the change rooms… that one time we got coated in some sort of goop in the middle of a mission. You kept staring at me as I undressed. You weren’t subtle.”

Obi-Wan knew he was blushing but there wasn’t anything he could hide behind, his robes now a pile on top of Anakin’s - cream and light browns mixed with dark and black. He liked how they looked. When he looked back up from the mess Anakin was staring at Obi-Wan’s cock. His pupils were blown, black swallowing up the blue hues that Obi-Wan had come to love more than any other colour. Lips parted, Anakin sucked back a breath, tongue sliding out to run along his bottom lip.

Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to taste him. He wanted to suck on Anakin’s cock, have Anakin choke him with it, overpower him and claim what they’d both wanted for so long. And he wanted Anakin to do the same - to rest between his legs and take the tip of his cock into his mouth, teasing him, tasting him. He wanted to see the innocence give way to experience, Anakin’s hesitant touch turning into bold and steady as he gripped Obi-Wan and pleased them both.

But there wasn’t time for that. Anakin was inexperienced and excited, his cock already slick and hard and pulsing, his hips twitching up incrementally. He was whimpering as he squirmed on the bed, attention still fixed on Obi-Wan’s cock - thicker than Anakin’s, but not as elegant.

Kneeling on the bed, Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s thighs and pulled him up on to his lap, Anakin’s breath stuttering as his taint and balls pressed against Obi-Wan’s length.

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan hissed as soon as his cock touched Anakin, sliding along his smooth skin and warmth, precome slick across Anakin’s underside as he rutted up against him.

Anakin wrapped his legs around Obi-Wan’s waist and sat up slightly, leaning back on to his hands as he thrust against Obi-Wan’s cock, mouth slack and eyes flickering shut as they ground against each other. Keeping a tight hold on Anakin’s thighs, Obi-Wan admired Anakin’s frame, watching the muscles across his stomach flex, his chest heaving, nipples pink with one still slick with Obi-Wan’s spit. He was making little noises with every movement, moans mixed with whimpers as he ground his ass against Obi-Wan’s cock, pressing into him until they were both shaking and desperate.

“I want inside of you,” Obi-Wan said. He knew he sounded desperate but didn’t care. He was desperate - for Anakin and his heat and his touch and his kisses.

“Please,” Anakin moaned. “Fuck me, Master.”

Pressing forward, Obi-Wan pushed Anakin back down on to the bed. Grinding their cocks together Obi-Wan kissed Anakin deeply, loving how Anakin used too much tongue and teeth, messy and desperate, the two covering each other up in their spit. There would be time to finesse Anakin’s technique - to teach him how to rub and please, how to suck on a person’s tongue and just where to bite. But for now Obi-Wan would enjoy Anakin’s enthusiasm, his hands brutal across Obi-Wan’s shoulders, fingers digging into his muscles as he held on to him.

Obi-Wan ran his hands along Anakin’s jaw and neck and up through his hair, short strands still long enough to grab and pull. Anakin let out a loud groan and thrust upward, his movements erratic as he ground into Obi-Wan.

But they both wanted more. Needed more. They couldn’t settle for just this, their cocks pushed between their stomachs, swollen and aching and ready to spill with the simplest of touches. They needed a connection - they needed to be joined so as to make a promise to one another that they would never be parted. No knighting could severe the bond between them; no traditions nor customs. They were to be together forever, in all ways from the physical to the spiritual.

They were as one.

Obi-Wan scrambled around in the drawer next to his bedside, trying to find a bottle of lube that he’d bought for this occasion. He didn’t do this often with others, his thoughts so wrapped up in Anakin for so long that pleasure couldn’t be found anywhere else. His delights were fixed on Anakin and everything he was - there could never be another. Finding the bottle Obi-Wan sat up, ignoring Anakin’s desperate pleas to remain on top of him.

“I need to prepare you,” Obi-Wan said, not unkindly.

Anakin nodded and lay back down. He spread his legs though he didn’t shift his hips, a sudden humility evident in his gaze as he waited for Obi-Wan to reach between his legs. Obi-Wan warmed the lube with his fingers, rubbing it between the pads while he pet Anakin’s thigh with his left, trying to sooth the little voice in Anakin’s head that told him this would be painful. Reaching down, Obi-Wan asked Anakin to tilt his hips forward before he slipped his fingers between his cheeks and searched. It didn’t take long to find Anakin’s hole - tight and whorled muscles hidden beneath the dense matting of hair. Anakin let out a soft sigh, body jerking away from Obi-Wan’s touch.

“Have you ever touched yourself here?” Obi-Wan asked, his rubbing becoming more insistent as Anakin started to relax.

“No. E-except to clean myself, that is.”

Obi-Wan groaned. The thought that he was the first made him dizzy with arousal. Anakin hadn’t even breached his own walls - hadn’t touched the velvet softness inside, hadn’t searched and explored, hadn’t stretched and pushed and rubbed. Obi-Wan would be the first.

“I want you to relax, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “Breath evenly and deeply, and focus on my touch and not the strange sensations.”

“I don’t need a lecture on meditation,” Anakin huffed out.

But he did as instructed, his body relaxing as Obi-Wan continued to pet his thigh and rub his hole. A few moments passed, their bond humming calmly between the two despite it all, before Obi-Wan pressed a finger inside. Anakin tensed a moment and Obi-Wan stilled, finger only half-way inside, before Anakin let out a soft sigh and relaxed enough for Obi-Wan to push in all the way. Moving his finger in and out, Obi-Wan let Anakin adjust to the new sensation before adding a second. Again Anakin tensed and then relaxed, his eyes closed as he slowly started grinding down on Obi-Wan’s hand.

“That’s a lad… that’s a good boy.”

Anakin’s cock twitched, stringy precome adding itself to the mess across his stomach. “I-I try.”

“Sometimes you do.”

Anakin’s blush deepened.

Anakin’s walls were was warm and inviting as Obi-Wan suspected they would be, his ring tight along Obi-Wan’s fingers, his thighs slick with sweat. Obi-Wan took his time stretching Anakin, adding a third in before he curled and searched. It took a moment, Obi-Wan readjusting, before—

A shout broke out through the room, desperate and keening, and Obi-Wan watched with joy as Anakin arched up from the bed and ground his hips down, his heels digging into the mattress. The pressure of his grinding hurt Obi-Wan’s hand but he didn’t complain and simply rubbed, getting Anakin more and more excited. Anakin let out another string of swears both in the standard and in Huttese, his brows furrowed as he writhed on the bed. Obi-Wan admired his features for a moment, watching the sweat slide along Anakin’s temple, the parting of his lips, tongue wet in the darkness of his eager mouth, before he looked down Anakin’s spread legs to watch his fingers as they slipped in and out from Anakin’s most intimate of parts.

“M-master, please,” Anakin begged, his body shuddering as Obi-Wan stroked his spot again.

He was close. Obi-Wan could feel it in their bond, a frenetic energy that lashed and rippled and sliced. Obi-Wan would have been tempted to continue - to have Anakin come undone because of his fingers alone - but he’d waited far too long to end it this way. He needed to be inside. Reaching between Anakin’s legs Obi-Wan gripped the base of his cock, keeping the pressure from overwhelming him. He’d stalled his fingers inside and waited for Anakin to stop squirming before sliding his fingers out, slick with lube and sore from their manipulation.

“Calm yourself,” Obi-Wan said, though he wasn’t sure if it was for Anakin’s benefit or his own.

Never in his life had he ever been this hard. His cock throbbed between his legs, painful almost as it continued to bob and pulse, thick rivulets of precome sliding down his length to collect on the base of his balls. Normally he could hold out - wring every last pleasure from himself before he was ready for release, sometimes touching himself or his partner for hours before giving in.

But normally he wasn’t with Anakin - his beautiful, precious boy. His Padawan, forever and always despite it all.

He kissed Anakin quickly before sitting up. Grabbing the lube he coated his cock before taking one of the pillows and shoving it beneath Anakin’s hips. Anakin made a curious noise, but Obi-Wan shushed him by pressing the tip of his cock against Anakin’s entrance. They both moaned, the simple sensation of touch enough to make Obi-Wan fear he’d come before he could even sink inside the supple flesh on offer.

“This will hurt for a moment, but I want you to stay as relaxed as you can, Anakin.” Obi-Wan brushed Anakin’s cheek with his free hand. “Can you do that for me, darling?”

Anakin nodded, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. “Y-yeah.”

Obi-Wan nodded and lifted Anakin’s hips before repositioning himself. He took a deep breath before he slowly pressed inside Anakin. Anakin let out a stuttered breath and squeezed down as soon as Obi-Wan’s cock-head had breached the rim, but with some soothing words he relaxed enough for Obi-Wan to sink half-way inside. It was then that Anakin’s body refused to go any further, and Obi-Wan remained where he was, cock half-way in and leaking into Anakin.

Marking him.

Another breath, more soothing words, and Anakin let Obi-Wan all the way inside.

Collapsing on top of Anakin, Obi-Wan peppered his cheeks and neck with soft kisses, trying to get Anakin to stop trembling.

“I know, darling. I know. It’s a lot.”

“Y-you’re not that big,” Anakin huffed, though Obi-Wan knew it was a remark told to make himself feel better about the whole thing.

He was big - there was no denying it. And Anakin was hot around him, and tight, his walls squeezing down until Obi-Wan thought he might break his cock off with one wrong move. Yet he didn’t squirm or demand Anakin relax, and tried to focus on the sensations of being completely inside Anakin.

There was a part of him that thought maybe this day would never come; that either he or Anakin would refuse to give in. That one of them would come to their senses and realize that this was a poor idea, brought on by desperate and weak minds. But they’d not come to their senses. In fact, they gripped each other’s hands and leapt into the abyss together. Foolish and unbecoming, but true to who they were.

Anakin started squirming after a time, hips rocking ever so slightly as Obi-Wan continued to kiss his cheeks and lips, tongue slick across his skin to taste tears and sweat. Pressing their foreheads together, Obi-Wan kissed Anakin deeply just as he pulled out and pushed back in. Anakin’s guttural moan mixed with Obi-Wan’s hiss of pleasure, the two panting in each other’s mouths as Obi-Wan started moving in earnest.

They moved together as if in battle, one pulling back while the other surged forward, a dance as old as time itself breaking out between them. Anakin was so tight and so soft and warm, cradling Obi-Wan close as he allowed Obi-Wan to fuck into him. Obi-Wan kept his movements slow and steady for a time, but eventually his desires overwhelmed him and he started pushing in faster, hips stalling every so often as Anakin readjusted before they resumed their punishing pace.

Anakin was breathing heavy and fast against Obi-Wan’s cheek, his arms wrapped tight around Obi-Wan as he held him close, his hips rocking up to take more of Obi-Wan. When Obi-Wan angled his hips and pressed his knees into the mattress he knew he’d found Anakin’s prostate, Anakin letting out a choked sob as his body shuddered beneath Obi-Wan.

“That’s a lad,” Obi-Wan whispered against Anakin’s neck, his nose pressed against sweat-slick skin that smelled of rich soaps and leather. “S-such a good boy, taking my cock like this. Such a good, good boy. So hot and tight around my cock.”

“M-Master,” Anakin sobbed. He gripped Obi-Wan’s forearms, his touch bruising as they rocked together.

Reaching between them Obi-Wan stroked Anakin’s cock once, twice, before Anakin was coming. Obi-Wan stilled his hips as Anakin shuddered beneath him, wanting to admire the sight before him. Anakin was writhing on the bed, cheeks stained with tears, his lashes coated in them as he bit down on his knuckles. The cords of his neck were strained, his chest pink, his skin covered in sweat and his own come, milky and tempting.

“Such a beautiful thing,” Obi-Wan whimpered as he came from the sight alone. Shoving his cock inside, he ducked his head and spilled his come into Anakin, coating his insides in his seed.

The Jedi could cut the braid and tell them to lessen their bond; they could instruct and guide them on how to remain separate people, with separate goals and separate lives; they could offer all the common sense and good judgment as they wanted, but it would fall on deaf, stubborn ears. Because Obi-Wan knew they were always supposed to be like this - bonded to each other, their messes painted upon each other’s bodies, their lives forever intertwined until it became impossible to separate one from the other.

The thought alone of what they’d done - the bond they’d created with such a simple, base action - made Obi-Wan’s cock pulse again, and he groaned as he gave all he had to the boy beneath him.

Once they were done Obi-Wan slipped out of Anakin and hovered above him. Anakin remained limp on the bed, his eyes closed as he breathed steadily through his nose. He was still crying, and Obi-Wan reached out to brush his tears away with the pad of his thumb. Blue eyes hazy with pleasure blinked up at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but return Anakin’s soft smile.

“Hullo,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

Anakin chuckled, wet and thick. “Hi.”

Obi-Wan kissed him, slow and lazy, before he got up and went to the fresher. He grabbed a towel and wet it before returning to Anakin. Anakin lay on the bed, a tangle of long limbs and sweat slick skin, his hair already curling slightly in the humidity of the room.

“You going to grow your hair out?” Obi-Wan asked, his hands steady as he cleaned Anakin up.

Anakin shrugged. “Maybe. Think I should?”

“I think you should, yes,” Obi-Wan said. Tossing the towel down on to the floor, he lay down next to Anakin and collected him in his arms. “Though, you’re no longer beholden to my instruction, so… you can do whatever you like.”

Anakin nodded and let out a sigh as he stretched before relaxing, body pressing into Obi-Wan’s. His arms were curled up between them, Anakin reached out to trace the sparse greys that had grown along the corner of Obi-Wan’s beard. Obi-Wan squeezed him closer, admiring the gold flecks in Anakin’s lashes as he came down from their shared release. Anakin already looked exhausted.

Obi-Wan would let him rest a moment before continuing. He still wanted more.

“I’ll always need your guidance,” Anakin mumbled, exhaustion making his words slur and his lashes flutter.

The confession made Obi-Wan’s chest squeeze a little, and he kissed Anakin’s brow. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Of course, I won’t always take your advice,” Anakin yawned. “I mean, if it’s stupid or I don’t want to do it.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Perish the thought.”

“But if you want to teach me about how to suck cock, or eat someone out…”

“How about like right now?”

Anakin shifted, his eyes opening. He suddenly didn’t look quite as tired as he once had.

“Yeah?”

Obi-Wan kissed Anakin deeply before shoving him on to his back. “First lesson will be how to take a man’s cock all the way down to the base with your mouth alone…”

[palfriendpatine66]

@somethingsteff asked for #39 for obikin from the Abba lyrics prompt list (and #4 which I’ll answer separately so I don’t lose track!)

39. you thrill me, you delight me, you please me, you excite me

Read below for a proposal drabble - what else could it have been for this song?

“Well?”

Obi-Wan shifted on his protesting knee, now feeling patently ridiculous to be kneeling on the hard stone in front of the stunning younger man who had apparently been stunned into silence, as unmoving and hard as stone himself since Obi-Wan had sunk to his knee and bared his soul and presented the ring that he still held outstretched in his now sweaty palm.

“I know it’s a loaded question and all, but one does usually expect an answer of some kind.”

Anakin cleared his throat, fighting through the burning tightness that was losing its battle to choke back all the emotions threatening to spill out. “Are you sure?”

“About which part, exactly?” Obi-Wan wondered. “The ring? No, I’m not. You’re the one who has to look at it for the rest of your life, if you don’t like it you can pick out one that you do.”

“Not the ring,” Anakin reached out and closed both of his hands around the outstretched palm starting to shake, cradling it like it was something precious, because it was.

“What then?” Obi-Wan prompted when nothing else followed.

Broad shoulders shrugged sheepishly. “Me.”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Obi-Wan’s knee objected with a disconcerting pop as he rose to cup one hand to where the long neck met brushed back curls, his other still held in the strong grip of long fingers that had no intentions of letting go. He pulled until their foreheads touched and he was looking directly into blue eyes brimming with wet tears that had somehow not yet been shed, windows to the insecure soul before him. “Did you not listen to a word I just said? I thought I made my feelings quite clear.”

“I did listen,” long lashes pressed closed in a last attempt to keep the tears from spilling. “And you did, it was,” he paused momentarily, overcome, “it was very nice to hear.”

“Alright…then…help me out here.”

“I know that’s how you feel now. It’s just…”

“You think I’m going to change my mind?” Obi-Wan asked dryly. Just that morning they’d had fought over the fact that Obi-Wan considered trying a different route to the restaurant “a pointless exercise.”

“Ok when you say it like that,” Anakin smirked. “I just. It’s supposed to be forever.”

“Yes, that’s rather the point.”

“That’s a long time to be with me.”

“Yes!” Obi-Wan had reached the end of his patience. “I’m familiar with the concept! So could you either tell me what it is you object about it or put the damn ring on your finger and tell me you would also like to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Idiot,” Anakin smiled against his hold. “Of course I do.” He closed the remaining space between them to press their lips together. “I guess I have a hard time believing that you would want to spend that long with me.”

Obi-Wan drew back just enough to search every inch of the face before him. “Explain,” he commanded seriously.

“I’m a lot,” Anakin sighed.

“Yes.”

“What if I’m too much?”

“You could never—”

“What if you get bored?”

“How could I—”

“What if all the things you think are quirky and cute become annoying and —”

“Love.” Obi-Wan silenced him with a chaste, barely there kiss. “You thrill me. You delight me. You please me. You excite me.” He sealed each statement with a kiss - one to each cheek, then the furrowed brow currently sporting premature wrinkles, then finally the hands that still clasped his own between them. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

“I do,” Anakin whispered as his fingers were pried one by one. “I—”

“I hoped you’d say that,” Obi-Wan declared as he finally slipped the ring onto Anakin’s finger, watching every flicker of emotion that crossed his face as he did. Uncertainty turned to awe, wrinkles smoothed out, and tears spilled as Anakin stared at the band that drew all the light in the room.

“You really want to marry me?” Anakin rasped.

“I do,” Obi-Wan sighed in relief that the fact finally seemed to have sunken in. “Please say you do too.”

“Yes,” Anakin buried the glittering ring in auburn locks and pulled Obi-Wan forward for a kiss. “I do,” he whispered against his lips. “I do, I do, I do.”

[ircn-mvn]

Yet another Obikin AU (Star Wars x Game of Thrones Crossover)

Anakin Sand was born in Tatooine, the southern region of the Core Kingdoms. Son of the last Skywalker Crown Prince and a maid, Shmi.

He grew up as a servant boy until the tensions got so strong in Coruscant that an assassin was sent to investigate the rumor of a lost Skywalker heir. Qui-Gon Jinn, a knight who had been protecting Anakin from the shadow, convinces Shmi to send her son to the Wall.

Anakin joins the Jedi Order in Hoth where Obi-Wan Kenobi, one Qui-Gon's old friends, was sent following Palpatine's rebellion against the Skywalkers.

Obi-Wan trains Anakin. They grow close.

Anakin goes north of the Wall and he meets Ahsoka, a young wildling; together they fight against the undead. They are saved first by Obi-Wan and second by a long-forgotten dragon; Stardestroyer, an obsidian beast bigger than a ship who used to belong to a Skywalker Princess, centuries ago.

The War between Palpatine and the Separatists is raging, the lords looking to get rid of the usurper rally behind the rumor of a last Skywalker Prince. They look for Anakin and find him.

Anakin now has a dragon and an army. After the threat from the north, it is him against Palpatine and his growing desire for power.

Obi-Wan tries to reason with Anakin and almost loses him as Anakin goes on to take back Coruscant. He manages and agrees to a marriage of convenience with Lady Padme from Naboo. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do, and is ready to go back to the Wall, but Anakin begs him to stay by his side.

Padme dies giving birth to the twins and Anakin refuses to remarry for appearances. Instead, he marries Obi-Wan in secret and they raise the twins together.

On a less happy note, I guess Anakin could fail at taking back Coruscant, and Obi-Wan would end up with Anakin's children to raise and protect...

Possibilities ahah. Anyway, thanks for reading the outline of a fic I'll never have the brain power to write.