#obi with his daddy issues

[jedi-starbird]

No one ever tells Obi-Wan that he is his Master's padawan.

Of course, for most people who had known Qui-Gon Jinn, telling someone else they resembled the the man would in fact be a thinly veiled insult. But still, Obi-Wan feels the absence of comparisons almost as strongly as he feels the absence of his Master.

There is no one for Obi-Wan to push against now, no strong presence at his side, ready to grab him by scruff and pull him back from another reckless stunt. It's an odd feeling. He has been set loose against his wishes. There is no one to his left and Anakin at his heels, but Anakin had needed, still needs, a strong, gentle figure for his prickly but sensitive heart. For even their worst bickering could not hold a candle to the scathing remarks he and Qui-Gon had shot at each other and Obi-Wan knows he cannot push and needle Anakin in the same way.

When Qui-Gon had been alive they had been an amusing, mirrored pair, the maverick and his rule-following padawan. Opposites clashing against each other, yet working together to complete the most difficult missions. Few saw that Qui-Gon's impertinence had indeed rubbed off on his padawan, cultivated from that small, angry initiate, because the only way to rebel against the rule-breaker had been to parrot the Council fastidiously. No one would ever get to see that again. Obi-Wan is one half of a mirrored pair trying to complete a routine on his own. What once was an impish, teasing compliance is now a betrayal of all his Master's values.

"How could Qui-Gon raise such a model Jedi?" He hears them say, "It's admirable that Master Kenobi was appointed to the Council despite his Master's maverick ways."

Padawan Kenobi would have yelled and kicked and screamed. Master Kenobi is serene. It should feel like an achievement. It feels like a disappointment.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan looks at the shape of the man he has moulded himself into, and aches to be his Master's padawan.

[melhekhelmurkun]

The pain of watching Attack of the Clones in order to see Obi-Wan with long hair, but also having to deal with Whiny Angsty Kinda Creepy Teenager Anakin

[willowcrowned]

trying to make star wars make sense is like a giant repeating loop of “I’ve connected the dots” “you didn’t connect shit” “I’ve connected them” in your head

[tranakin-skywalker]

personal headcanon that Yoda was utter shit at raising teenagers and that's why his lineage fell to pieces.

[space-girlllll]

I just watched to new Pinocchio movie and istg just watching that movie gave me daddy issues I didn’t even have,,,

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-three of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

So alright, Tim may have made some miscalculations here. Or at least one very serious miscalculation, anyway. Kon is a hopeless flirt who always wants attention and to be the most interesting person in the room, and so perhaps inserting Tim Drake into his life as a person determined to give him attention and treat him like the most interesting person in the room while also flirting back was not, in fact, the best plan.

Or, more succinctly: Tim is a fucking idiot. 

After the mall, where Tim nearly fell off that bench twice more and Kon showed him everything he’d picked out to try on and Tim bought him literally every single piece of it that fit, some of it in multiple colors, and Kon, the bastard, then decided to wear the strap-covered leather pants and S-shield crop top out into actual public for the rest of their not-date, because he is, again, a bastard who Tim had to eat lunch with in the food court while he was smugly preening and peacocking in his stupid leather pants and crop top–after the mall, Tim realized he had a problem, and that problem was a) everything about Superman and Cadmus but especially actually-claimed-to-be-a-decent-person Superman and also b) Kon might actually like him as a person. Like. Genuinely and actually like him. 

That is definitely not something Tim planned for. Not in one single solitary contingency plan did he ever even consider “Kon actually liking Tim Drake as a person” as being a potential issue. Kon should have better taste than that, for one thing. Tim Drake is a photography nerd and a nerd-nerd and he's not all that interesting or attractive. He has weird taste in video games and only likes the role-playing games that literally nobody actually plays. And he isn't even that good at skateboarding! 

It has occurred to Tim, perhaps, that while Kon definitely is and always has been a flirt, he may have been basing his previous personal assumptions about how "serious" any more focused forms of flirting have been less on Kon himself and more on other people's reactions to said flirting. That it might not be Kon who's getting bored and moving on at the drop of a hat. 

Meaning, for all he knows Kon only really hits on people he's actually interested in and is simultaneously absolutely attention-starved enough to devote himself to anyone who so much as implies any kind of reciprocal interest. 

So that's . . . something to take under consideration, possibly. And be wary of, possibly. 

Except . . . 

It's kind of bad that Tim wants to just lean into it, isn't it. That he wants to–wants to encourage it. 

That he wants to devote himself back to that devotion in turn and see just how far it goes. 

Yeah, that cannot be a healthy thought process to be having, under the circumstances. 

But Tim's having it, all the same. And it wouldn't be that bad, would it? He actually does like Kon, for starters. He's not trying to use him or take advantage of him. Manipulate him a little, yeah, obviously, but Tim is pretty sure he's literally incapable of not manipulating the people he cares about at this point in his life, so . . . 

Possibly he should work on that? Like, come to think. 

But that's a later-problem. Somewhere between now and supervillainy. 

Anyway, Superman decided it was perfectly fucking fine to leave Kon in a literal fucking lab that wasn't even paying or educating him or anything, so Tim feels pretty secure in his current moral high ground. He is the Obi-Wan Kenobi of this situation and he has absolutely no reservations about that fact. 

At least as long as Kon's happy, anyway. 

Tim could maybe make him happy, he's realizing. Like . . . if Kon really does like him like that, he means. He could get him a homey little place in Gotham, like a studio downtown or maybe a small estate in Bristol, and he could take him on dates to actually nice places, and he could hang out with him on the weekends and play whatever video games he's into. They could actually spend time together where Kon doesn't think he has to be either “cool” or just like Superman, and where Tim doesn't have to be professional and emotionally distant. Time where Kon could be a normal guy and Tim wouldn't have to wear a mask. 

It's . . . tempting. 

Really, really tempting. 

Anyway, that's why Tim is currently planning the nicest and least-ethical date of his life while on patrol with Nightwing. Japanese food is still probably his best bet, since neither Gotham nor Metropolis is exactly spoiled for Hawaiian food and actually flying Kon all the way to Hawaii might be coming on a little bit too strong for a first date, and obviously he's not going to make Kon fly him there. He's the one planning this date, and he will not be cheating said planning or skimping on the budget by taking advantage of anyone's superpowers. 

Besides, Kon still doesn't actually have superspeed so it'd probably take like eight hours to get there. At least six, depending on the weather and the headwind. And it wouldn't exactly make for prime small-talk time, either. 

So yeah, Japanese food is sounding better and better. The only Hawaiian food Tim's actually tracked down around here with decent reviews is a food truck, and that's just not “nice first date” vibes. He promised Kon someplace nice for their actual official first date, and he is gonna deliver on said “nice” or die trying. 

Possibly literally, considering. 

“You seem a little distracted, baby bird,” Dick says as he pulls him up out of the filthy waters of the Gotham River. Tim considers explaining Kon's thighs to him, then resolves to never, ever explain Kon's thighs to him. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I have a YJ-related op to plan and I'm having trouble keeping my mind off it.” 

“Understandable,” Dick says, then yanks them both behind a dumpster as Two-Face's latest crop of dichotomous thugs catch up again and bullets start flying. “Maybe right now is not the ideal time for that, though?” 

Tim wonders if Bludhaven has decent Hawaiian food. 

“Valid,” he says. “Hey, do you think a planetarium is a stupid date idea?” 

“That depends entirely on who the date is with,” Dick says, pulling out his escrima sticks. Tim takes the cue to grab and extend his bo. “Nothing’s stupid if it'd make the person you're taking happy. Four o'clock.” 

“Thanks,” Tim says as he whips a birdarang into the gun hand of the guy running up behind them. Dick has a point, really, but unfortunately not a point that is helpful when planning a date with a teammate Tim actually still doesn’t know all that much about the interests and hobbies of. He knows Kon is interested in Krypton, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in astronomy or space in general. It’s likelier he only cares about Krypton because of Superman, and maybe his own DNA. 

Tim remembers Kon saying he’d never seen anything from Krypton but kryptonite before, which means he is in fact the person who introduced Kon to the first piece of Krypton he ever saw and he did it in an attempt to take him out while Kon was under Poison Ivy’s influence, which is frankly terrible but not as terrible as the fact Superman only just introduced him to anything else about Krypton. 

On that note, Tim needs to work on those plans for weaponized red sunlight this weekend. Maybe after he gets Japanese food with Kon and embarrasses himself by taking him to the planetarium. 

Would he like the aquarium, maybe? It might remind him of Hawaii, and Hawaii probably still feels more like home to him than anywhere else does, so it’s at least a valid hypothesis. Then again, he probably preferred the beach and sky to the marine life. Admittedly, Tim doesn’t actually know that, so it’s still a possibility. 

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Dick says. 

“I’m not,” Tim only technically lies, whipping another series of birdarangs around the corner of the dumpster, along with a few smoke pellets. They take the cover and run for better positions. “I’m theorizing, that’s all.” 

“Theorizing a date you don’t have anyone to take on?” Dick asks in amusement. “Is that a thing you do a lot of, baby bird?” 

“No,” Tim definitely lies. “I was just thinking about when I used to go out with Spoiler and how to translate that to civilian dating. It’s . . . an issue. Especially after how things went with the last civilian I tried to date.” 

Not that Kon’s a civilian, obviously, but he needs to keep thinking Tim Drake is one. Therefore, patrol dates are still out. And really wouldn’t count as taking him anywhere “nice” anyway, really. Tim needs to step up his game. At least, like, undercover at a gala or something. Or maybe on a yacht. 

Actually, maybe Kon would like to go to a yacht party? Does Kon like boats? Did he do boats in Hawaii? Was that a thing? 

Possible option to research, again. Note to self. 

“Not dating civilians helps,” Dick offers helpfully, then leaps into the air with the kind of height most people couldn’t get off a rocket-powered springboard and comes down in the middle of a cluster of disoriented goons with his sticks already electric and crackling. Tim is both incredibly jealous and duly impressed. “Just in my experience, mind!” 

“Please explain to me who in the community you think I could possibly date when B won’t even let me tell Young Justice my first name or be seen in public with the team at all,” Tim says dubiously, following the path he’s cleared and sweeping up a few stragglers with his staff as he does. It’s one thing not to tell a civilian you’re a superhero, but to not tell another superhero about your civilian life . . . “Any suggestions. Go right ahead.” 

“. . . maybe you should just go ask Spoiler to take you back, buddy,” Dick says with a bit of a wince, not unsympathetically. 

“That would incredibly stupid of me, seeing as we came to a mutual agreement that we shouldn’t date specifically because B wouldn’t let me tell her my name,” Tim says dryly.

“So anyway, civilians!” Dick says brightly, doing a very complicated and fancy-looking backflip that somehow ends up in a roundhouse kick that takes out three guys at once and then landing feet-first on a fourth’s head, because Nightwing is a terrifying badass like that. Tim, again, is jealously impressed. “I hate to say it but you need to case-by-case basis this, Robin, there’s no ‘one size dates all’, you know?” 

“That’d be a lot more convenient,” Tim sighs, jabbing his staff into a few joints and then tripping one of the more dogged grunts with it. She hits the ground face-first with a yelp and the distinct crunch of a breaking nose. Tim might feel a bit bad about that if she and her whole crew weren’t actively trying to murder them for the crime of inconveniencing an arms deal. That seems like a very disproportionate response to him, honestly. When he’s running the Gotham underworld, he’s going to make it very clear to his foot soldiers that unnecessary escalation is not actually a useful long-term survival strategy. It just doesn’t go well, historically speaking. “What if I just throw money at them? Is throwing money at them a valid strategy?” 

“Not even slightly,” Dick says dryly. 

Tim thinks that’s probably not true under these specific circumstances, though he supposes offering fiscal security isn’t the best first move in flirting. Probably not romantic enough or whatever. 

Tim thinks taking care of someone for the entire rest of their life is perfectly romantic, actually, but fine, he’ll buy some damn aquarium tickets and then do the bank fraud. 

Nobody wants to commit these days.

[thatbxolivia]

you’d been acting like a brat all day.

anakin hated using that word, really, he did. you were a kind and good hearted soul, but today you were acting like a brat.

you fought him getting up, you refused breakfast, whined all day, kept talking back, and to top it all off, you were rude to obiwan when he tried to give you a hug!

anakin had enough.

“get in the house.” he said sternly, closing the door behind you. you muttered under your breath about how stupid this all was and how you were a big girl and he couldn’t tell you what to do. “say it again, y/n.” he said, not using a nickname. you hung your head low and shuffled inside, going into your room and locking the door behind you. you threw your bag across the room and screamed. you didn’t know why you were being this way today either, but now daddy hated you. you heard quick footsteps coming to you and daddy tried to open the door, sighing when it was locked. “absolutely not, open the door. you know better!” he said, raising his voice slightly, knocking. “y/n, you know the rules, this door stays unlocked, always!” he banged on the door again. you unlocked it and tried to shove him out. “absolutely not.” he muttered, man handling you to turn around and bend over the bed. “keep going.” he taunted, holding you over the bed with your hands behind your back. “what’s gotten into you?” he questioned, genuinely concerned. you were getting a punishment, that wasn’t up for debate, but he still wanted to know so he could maybe make you feel better.

“i don’t know!” you sobbed. “let me go!” you cried, kicking. daddy used his knee to hold your legs down, forcing you to be still.

“you need to breathe.” was all he said, sighing. he loved you so much and he would never leave you but this was becoming an issue. he had a feeling you’d gone off your meds again, and he was seeing now that this was something you needed him to manage for you. this was an issue, like he said, and he needed to correct it. he would do so by handing out medication for you and dispensing it when needed. but before that, he had to correct your attitude. your medicine, or lack thereof, explained your behavior but it did not excuse it. “what’d you do today?”

“i was mean.” you whined. daddy nodded.

“what else? you’re not getting off that easy.” he said.

“i was mean to obi wan, i was mean to you, and i fought you on everything.” you cried. you hated punishments because you were always convinced daddy hated you afterwards.

“wasn’t very nice, was it?” he asked you rubbing the side of your hip soothingly.

“no, daddy.” you sniffled. he sighed, not really wanting to punish you but it would teach you that you could get away with these things if he didn’t. he began pulling your skirt up and gave you fifteen hard slaps on your backside, causing you to cry out. by the last one, he himself felt like an ass for making you cry. he let your skirt fall back down.

“hey, come here.” he said, pulling you back up. you had tears in your eyes and reached out for your daddy. he pulled you in for a hug, rubbing your back. “i love you.” he told you, your head in the corner of his neck.

“you hate me!” you wailed.

“i could never.” he said, rubbing your back some more. he cupped the back of your head and made you look at him. you were hiccuping and crying and your daddy’s heart broke looking at you. “i could never hate you.” he said again. “i love you so much, i do this because i know you’re a good girl and punishments will correct your behavior. you’re still a good girl even if you make mistakes. if you weren’t good, you wouldn’t learn, so i wouldn’t bother. yeah?” he said, and he made sense. you were just still upset and embarrassed. your daddy knew this and brushed hair out of your face. “please don’t hide from me, i love you so much.” he told you. you sniffled and nodded.

“i get scared you hate me.” you choked out.

“i could never hate you.” he repeated. “never. you are the love of my life, i could never feel anything for you aside from complete and utter love.” he said.

“it’s so hard to remember.” you said. “i’m so sure.” you said, feeling kind of crazy for having all these emotions.

“have you been taking your meds?” daddy asked calmly. you sobbed and shook your head. “it’s okay, there’s no need to cry, baby.” he told you. “daddy’s gonna manage those from now on and hopefully that’ll make you feel better. and daddy isn’t upset at all. nor do i blame you, so please don’t think that. i love you so much.” he pleaded with you. you shook from crying, unable to look up. you were still embarrassed. “you’re still my perfect girl.” he said, giving you a hug.

“daddy, i love you. i’m sorry about today.”

“it’s okay, baby. daddy knows and he understands why. everything is okay.” he promised you, giving you one more hug. “let’s get you into a bath, will that help you calm down?” he suggested and you nodded. he quickly got you undressed and into the bathroom as he ran the water. he hugged you, keeping you warm.

“daddy, will you get in with me?” you asked, shy.

“of course i will, you sure?” he asked and you nodded. “okay, baby, you got it.” he said, undressing himself. as the water got close enough, he helped you in then got in behind you, the two of you sitting in the tub. “i know we cleaned you this morning but i figured the hot water would still help you.” he said, kissing your shoulder blade. you sat in the large tub between his legs and nodded. “what else are you thinking about?” he asked.

“i just don’t want obiwan to hate me either.” you said and daddy shook his head.

“obi wan understands you were grumpy today and he knows not to take it personal. i will explain to him what happened with the medication and that’ll make him understand everything. really, it’ll be okay.” daddy reassured you.

“okay, i believe you.”

“good girl.” he said, rubbing your back. you laid back and listened to his heartbeat for a few moments. he held you just above the water, making you feel secure. a few moments passed and he began lathering up a sponge. he gently put your hair up then washed your back, arms, and legs. he rinsed you off quick and the two of you sat there a brief moment before getting out. “i do want to say something.” daddy stopped you. you got quiet and looked. “you know i love you. and i’m never leaving. but don’t hit me, baby.” he told you, looking at you. “don’t hit me when i’m just trying to help.” you were about to ask what he was talking about but you remembered shoving him and kicking him and began crying.

“I’m sorry.”

“hey, i know you are. and i’ve already forgiven you. i’m not judging you, i just want you to know it can’t happen again. this is a safe space for both of us, that means me, too.”

“i know, daddy, i’m sorry.” you sniffled.

“it’s okay, baby. daddy understands why it happened and you know i forgive you.” he promised, pulling you in for a small hug. “i have never loved someone so much. please don’t think i’m mad, i’m not, it just can’t happen again.” he told you, setting his boundary. you nodded, trying not to take it personal. you knew he had every reason to ask you to not hit him, so why were you so upset?

“okay…” you trailed off as he helped you out of the water and wrapped you up.

“no, none of that, tell me what’s on your mind.” he said, wrapping a towel around his waist. and you did, you told him exactly what you were thinking.

“i’m trying not to take criticism so personally… and it’s not even criticism… i know you have the right to ask me not to hit you but i’m upset still and i don’t know why, daddy.” you cried, upset at being upset. his expression softened and he pulled you in for another hug.

“you’re embarrassed.” was all he said. “you’re embarrassed about earlier today and just now and it’s making you feel shameful. you don’t need to feel that way, though. i love you, obi wan loves you, everything is going to be okay.” he said, wiping your tears. you nodded, shaking from the crying. “come on, sweet girl.” he maneuvered you out to the bedroom and got you dressed after applying lotion, then dressed himself. he left momentarily and came back on the phone, talking to obiwan.

“yeah, we’ve had a hard day today.” your daddy said, referring to the two of you. “do you have a moment?”

“of course i have a moment for her, put her on.” you heard obiwan say. he didn’t sound mad at all.

“hi.” you said softly, picking at your thumb with your free hand before daddy stopped you. you sighed.

“hi, little one. your daddy told me about the meds, how do you feel?”

“sad.”

“well, that won’t do. that’s no good.”

“feel stupid, obi wan.” you said, sniffling.

“don’t feel stupid. people forget medicine all the time. you have a lot on your plate and you’re just a little one, it’s good anakin will watch over for you.” obiwan said. you nodded, knowing he was right.

“i’m sorry for being mean, obiwan.” you sniffled, beginning to cry again. daddy started to rub your back again.

“hey, hush now. everything is okay, i forgive you.” obiwan said. you breathed a sigh of relief, happy you didn’t lose your friend. “i think it’s time for you to take your nap, how about we all go for dinner when you’re up? will that make you feel better?”

“can i have a hug when i see you?” you asked.

“you can have two.” he told you, chuckling. you laughed a little, too.

“thank you. i love you.”

“i love you too, kiddo. both of you, we’ll talk later.” he promised and hung up. you handed the phone back to daddy.

“we see obiwan tonights?” you asked. your daddy laughed and nodded. “after i nap?”

“yes, baby. after you nap.” he said, tucking you in and handing you your stuffed bear. it was actually an old toy of anakin’s and he had repurposed it for you. you loved it.

“i love you, daddy.” you said, smiling.

“i love you, baby. so much.” he said, kissing your forehead and turning off the lights. “want daddy to nap with you?”

“yes please.” you said. he got in next to you and you snuggled up, on his chest, legs tangled together. your favorite sleeping position.

“you know i’m gonna be around forever, right? i’m not going anywhere.” he told you, kissing you on the lips. you smiled and nodded.

“i won’t go anywhere either.” you promised.

“good.” he whispered, kissing your forehead this time. “go to bed. i promise i’ll be here when you wake up.” he told you.

and you fell asleep, safe and feeling secure.

[blackkatmagic]

Do you have summaries for the unpublished stories (in the last patreon poll)? I would love to hear more about them!

Absolutely! I realized belatedly and while not massively sleep deprived that I should have put the summaries in the heading part, whoops. :'D

Feral/Plo - identity porn/sugar daddy/biology made them do it AU:

Canon goes AU in that Talzin handed all three of her children over to Sidious instead of just Maul. Fast forward to the middle of the Clone Wars and Feral has grabbed his brothers, both of whom are in a bad way, and skipped out on Talzin/Sidious to hide on a planet that's mostly under Republic control, where he makes a living collecting information/carrying out assassinations for the local crime lord. Enter Plo, who's in the middle of like. the Kel Dor version of a horny season. Not quite fuck or die, but fuck or be distracted and miserable and horny for months. Feral, thinking this will be a good opportunity to gather info on the Jedi, volunteers to help him out by being a sex partner whose sturdiness can stand up to Kel Dor physiology. Except that Plo is nice and Feral is maybe not prepared for that.

Jaster/Granta - Sith empire vs. Mandalorian empire AU with lots of daddy issues:

Xanatos is the Sith Lord ruling over Telos, and Granta plays assassin/weapon for his father, right up until he makes a mistake, a Jedi gets away, and Sith Emperor Sidious demands that Granta be punished for failing. Xanatos promptly sends Granta to murder Mand'alor Jaster, who manages not to die but does clock the daddy issues at 20 paces. When Xanatos completely disavows Granta and leaves him for the Mandos to execute, Jaster offers a deal - he'll let Granta live, but in return Granta will be his consort as a fuck you to the Sith Empire, and use his skill at killing Sith for the Mandalorians. Granta accepts, and they have a lot of messy sex and even messier feelings about it.

Padme/Rex - Time travel/time slips/identity porn/fake Jedi!Padme:

Canon divergence in that Obi-Wan's remarkably stupid escape from Vader's base in Kenobi doesn't work, and Reva ends up kidnapping Luke and Leia both at the same time to bring them to Vader. Padme, vaguely a Force ghost by sheer force of will, realizes that her kids are in danger and gets so angry that she quite literally tears time itself apart, throwing herself, her kids, and Vader back to the start of the Clone Wars. They all end up scattered, though, and Padme, with a brand-new Force sensitivity and Obi-Wan's lightsaber, makes a plan with her past self and goes to find her kids, pretending to be a Jedi to let her move through the front more easily. Which goes great, right up until she falls in with Torrent by accident as they're looking for a vanished Anakin. Rex, for his part, has no idea what to make of this angry, driven Jedi lady who tears her way through the CIS like she's aiming to bring them down all by herself, but is also devastatingly sad and kind when there's no enemy to fight. He does know that he very much needs to keep her alive, though, and given Padme's recklessness and Vader making plans in the shadows, that's the furthest thing from easy.

Tae/Fox - CIS!clones AU/spy shenanigans/fake relationship:

AU with CIS!clone troopers under the command of whatever Sith Dooku can vaguely train/pull out of the mud, wherein Fox is the Marshal Commander of a newly-captured Coruscant under Dooku's control. Tae is a new Knight, following in Nico's footsteps as a Shadow, and when Nico goes missing on Coruscant, he decides to go undercover to look for him. Of course, the best way to do this is to volunteer to help the infamously difficult Marshal Commander, who chews through aides like it's a sport and defies even the Sith. When Dooku starts getting a little too suspicious of both of them for comfort, though, Tae comes up with a plan - fake a relationship and pretend to hide it, and then no one will look any deeper. Fox agrees, still unaware that Tae is a Jedi and an enemy.

Cody/Maul - identity porn/Force-sensitive!Cody/canon divergence

Cody touches the wrong artefact during the destruction of the Jedi Temple and the building of Palpatine's palace, and wakes up back at the start of the Clone Wars, still fighting the influence of the chip. Not willing to trust himself enough to go to the Jedi, he instead picks the next best thing: Maul. Except that as soon as he touches Maul, lost in the depths of Lotho Minor, it's not spider!Maul who crashes down on top of him, but Sith apprentice!Maul, pulled right out of his fight with Eldra but with all the doubts about his path that it raised. He immediately assumes that Cody is a Sith Lord challenging Palpatine, and Cody goes along with it, hoping that Maul will be able to teach him to control all of his unsettling new abilities. He very much doesn't expect the mad sort of devotion Maul brings with him, or the fact that he's suddenly the whole Jedi Order's number one target, thanks to Palpatine also assuming he's a rival.

[djhonnie14]

Modern AU- Cody and Obi have been together for a few months and with all of his brothers in town for the week (celebration of some sort?) it seems like the perfect time to introduce Obi to the clan

Except when they arrive to game night at Jango’s, Fox (recently back in town) seems to recognize Obi and calls him Ben

Obi gets super embarrassed and is very quiet and there’s a weird vibe between him and fox and fox and Cody until it finally comes out

Flashback to uni days-

twenty-something twink Obi with daddy issues galore and his best buddy (with occasional benefits) Quinlan go clubbing and run into Fox who’s been forced out to socialize by his law school buddies. Long story short- they have a threesome

Quin and Obi stop hooking up shortly after bc Quin and Fox get together and spend the next decade as on-again-off-again life partners

Obi somehow only puts the pieces together when he’s introduced to fox by Cody in jango’s living room like 10 years later. Cody has to tease out what’s wrong which results in a conversation that includes the phrase “I kriffed your brother”

Cody ends up thinking it’s hilarious- especially after Obi promises Cody’s better in bed.

[veloursdor]

Obikin Snow White AU where Anakin is Snow White and Obi-Wan the Hunter sent by Palpatine to kill Anakin.

Anakin isn’t Palpatine’s biological son, he married Anakin’s mother for political gain (he wanted to be the King to Queen Shmi’s kingdom). Obviously he slowly poisoned her little by little, year after year, until Shmi passed away. Anakin, forever oblivious and slightly naive where Palpatine is involved, latches onto the older man (mommy issues, daddy issues you name it) as he has nothing and no one else. 

At first, Palpatine indulges him, Anakin is the beloved Prince after all, but as days pass and Palpatine finds no use for Anakin beyond a pretty face, he decides it will be better for his plans if Tatooine’s beloved Prince were to tragically die (oh, so very young) in a horrific accident. 

He contacts various hunters (Jango/Boba Fett, Fenneck, Ventress) and each one of them fail (insert magic reasons or the Force protecting her Son) until he hears the story of the best huntsman the world has ever heard of. He tracks this man down to the outskirts of Tatooine, living in an abandoned cabin with bottles and bottles of alcohol littering the floor.

Ben Kenobi, an alcoholic widower with no reason to live, tells him to fuck off. He despises Palpatine and believes him to be the worst thing that ever happened to Tatooine, but as Palpatine is weaving his tales of riches for Ben if he gets the job done, Obi-Wan’s sense of honour and duty (long dormant since the death of his wife at the hands of Palpatine’s army as they were part of a rebellion against his tyranny) beg him to take the job and protect the young Prince, who is… so young.

Ben Kenobi takes the job and takes the little princeling on a trek around the woods in the outskirts of the kingdom, where no one could hear them if something were to happen. However, Anakin (who has never seen a man as handsome and breathtaking as Obi-Wan (who put himself together for the job after years of slacking his appearance)) when Obi-Wan tells him to run away from Palpatine thinks old man Ben wants to take him away from a life of boredom and make him his (Anakin reads a lot of fairy tales since he has no friends).

Queue Obi-Wan trying to keep Anakin alive and make him join the rebellion against his step-father while Anakin ignores all his duties and responsibilities because all he wants is to become Obi-Wan’s second spouse.

[rochenn]

sits down. what do you think dooku would do if he needed to produce an heir for, yknow, nobility reasons. i have a self-indulgent oc about this but i am deeply curious what you think he'd do l

hell yeah dude indulge in that! very interesting question!! one of the fics i'm working on briefly touches on this - dooku's POV goes on a bit of a tangent about matters of succession (because he probably would get pestered by his advisors about an heir lmao)

so. i think a spouse is one of the last things he'd want to have in his castle, second only to an infant. if dooku absolutely had to produce a biological heir, though, he'd likely make them live in a separate manor with the other parent and only check in to make sure the child's education is to his liking. and if not. well. a+ parenting inbound, the daddy issues are gonna keep running in the family etc etc

because the thing about biological children is that you can't choose them. some jedi habits are so ingrained in dooku that i believe he doesn't care as much about his bloodline as he does about his Lineage. a bio kid is all sorts of trouble. why bother with that when for all his life he's been able to pick from the best of the best superpowered 13-year-olds?

he'd want his heir to be someone thoroughly mentored and molded by him, but not from birth. god knows what could have happened if obi-wan had at any point joined him or if dooku hadn't fucking obliterated his bridge to ventress. i am currently imagining an older asajj presiding over castle serenno and UGHHHH yeah that would be cool as fuck. she deserves that. what a thought!!

so yeah, in conclusion i think dooku would pull every lever possible to avoid marriage and conception :'D and if not he'd be as 1950s distant father about the whole heir-creating process as possible.

thank you for the ask! i love thinking about this sort of stuff!

[gffa]

for the character ask game! dick grayson: 5, 16, 25

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them? Lmao please don't ask me this question, because I have zero musical taste--and I don't mean I have bad musical taste, I mean I have no taste whatsoever, I barely listen to music, and I have no funny suggestions! (Mostly because I don't care for most of the ~jokes~ about his physical body.) 16. What's your least favorite ship for this character? Fandom has made it extremely hard to like a lot of other Dick ships because literally half the fandom can't stop tearing down Dick/Babs to build up their ship, which means there's nothing there for me to like, all it does is make me think there's not much there, if the only content to come up with is ranting about another ship. Nobody's obligated to like Dick/Babs, nobody's even obligated to not rant about it, I know where my scroll button is, but also all it does is push me further away from the ship that was supposedly being sold in that post, because it seems like an unfun place to be. But my actual least favorite ship for Dick is probably Bruce/Dick because it's so close to what I want out of that relationship, except also a thousand miles away from it! Honestly, one of my oldest friends is a Bruce/Dick shipper and the overlap we have of views on the characters is probably like 85%, we just diverge on how that plays out and we both feel extremely strongly about how we dislike the other path, but that we respect the other person being on it. We both are really into the fucked up entanglement of the characters, the mirroring aspect they have of each other, the belief that the other is the pure version of who they're meant to be, the frustration of how much they love the other while also being mad at them for the distance between them, the co-dependent disaster relationship, etc. All of that is the same for both of us, we just diverge on the context for it. Which is fine in our friendship, we meet in the middle, but there have been times when I feel like the ship would be so delicious for me, because it would tunnel vision in on those aspects I like, but the thought of them so much as even smooching makes me look like I bit into a lemon. How dare fandom almost give me what I want and then take it away from me!!!! Like, I don't actually care that it exists as a ship, fiction is not in a 1:1 relationship with reality and I think a lot of us get blinded by how modern comics go hard on the father & son aspect, which I am into and think is fair to evolve them into, but that wasn't always true and it's not like Bruce/Dick came out of nowhere. It just denies me personally what I want and therefore it it is The Worst For Me Personally And Thus Jail For DC Fandom For One Thousand Years!!!! 25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? Dick Grayson is my longest running Blorbo, like that guy invented Blorboism for me, before I ever had such a name for the concept. Dick Grayson has been my One True Character for 20+ years, nobody has ever unseated him, not Anakin, not Obi-Wan, not Thor, not Usagi, not Duo, not Tezuka, NONE OF THEM that I've lost my mind about. Dick Grayson came on the scene for me when I first watched B:TAS and hit my tiny little baby brain with his daddy issues on display and excellent Nightwing design in later episodes and the push-and-pull relationship with Babs and my fannish life has never been the same since. "That it. That's him. That's the one. That's the character I'm going to obsess over for the rest of my life." I must have said when I first saw him and I HAVE NOT BEEN PROVEN WRONG YET.

[miguelswifey04]

Miguel x Fem spanish speaker Like himslelf and she is super cool and badass around other people but shy with him (like full on fumbling around talking softly near him and shes really clingy ans soft with him. Like getting up in bed she'll cling to his bare back saying he's really warm and won't let go (she has some attatchment issues due to cannon events and she only shows this side of her to him)

miguel o’hara x shy fem! spanish speaker! reader

my taglist! & linktree with my socials <3

as the sun sets, casting a warm glow through the window, miguel finds himself wrapped in the arms of a special someone. you match his fiery spirit, yet there is an undeniable softness in your gaze when you look at him. miguel’s fingers gently caress your cheek, his dark eyes filled with adoration. "vamos a ser honestos, mi amor. you are the coolest, most badass person i’ve ever met," he says, his voice laced with genuine admiration.

your cheeks flush with a mixture of shyness and affection. you stammer softly, struggling to find the right words in your native language, spanish. "gracias, miguel. you are...cómo se dice...special to me," you say, your voice filled with timidity. miguel cups your face in his hands, his touch full of tenderness. "no tienes que ser tímida conmigo, mi cielo. i love the strong, fierce woman you are, but i also adore this softer side that you only show to me," he says, his voice soothing and reassuring.

you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and reveling in his warmth. your arms wrap around his bare back, clinging to him as if he were your lifeline. “you’re so warm, miguel," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "i feel safe and protected when i’m with you."

a surge of protectiveness swells within miguel, as he embraces you tightly, his large hand gently stroking her back. "i’m here for you, always, cariño. you’re not alone, and i’ll never let anything harm you," he vows, his voice filled with determination. your bodies meld together, creating a sense of intimacy that goes beyond physicality. in this tender moment, you find solace in each other's arms, your unspoken affection and attachment bridging any distance that may exist.

a/n: omg the song daddy issues came on when i was writing this and i need this so badly

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @astro1bloom @emiemiemiii @meeom @sabcandoit @obi-mom-kenobi

[tennessoui]

Kisses to distract for the playmaker au 🌌

omg from this prompt list, kisses to distract from the au where all the kisses are basically to deceive and to distract???? hell yes!!!

so i couldn't pick which kiss i wanted and then i remembered i made a playmaker post once about how vos is probably sent undercover/ends up at anakin's table and obi-wan freaks out and corners him and they're found and its so suspicious that they would be so close talking in a secret corner that before they're found, vos kisses obi-wan so that people will just think that they're horny only for vos to then die because That's Anakin's Little Mouse

so this is that....except a little different cause obi-wan's daddy issues are Daddying rn

(2.6k) (cw: a nonconsensual kiss. but also. like. murder???)

Obi-Wan can feel his heart beating. It’s so loud in his mind that he can barely hear what Vader is saying, and he’s sitting in the man’s lap, face tucked up beneath his chin.

He can’t remember a time he’s felt more exposed, not even the very first time Vader’s hands had found his waist and pulled him into his lap in front of half his highest ranking men. 

In the intervening weeks, it’s even been—well. It’s become rather…comfortable. If he doesn’t think of all the reasons it isn’t. 

Perched on Anakin’s thighs, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other held to his lap, he can press his face up against the man’s hair. He can close his eyes and commit himself wholly to listening to the men and women around him talk. Talk of shipments and delays, money owed, lives taken in payment. Obi-Wan can memorize everything and he can do it from the throne of the very mob his department has tasked him with bringing down. He can memorize it all and spend the moments in between pressing kisses to the tendons of Anakin’s neck, trailing his fingers along the in-seam of his suit pants, rubbing at the mob boss’ shoulder with the palm of his other hand.

Because—because that’s what the mission instructs that he do. He’s supposed to gather intel, gather evidence. And he’s supposed to do it without Anakin realizing that there’s a rat wrapped around his heart. The kisses—the kisses help. Distract him.

And it feels good. To kiss him.

To tease him into fucking him up against the wall the second they get somewhere private. To coax him into such violent need he dismisses his men and has Obi-Wan right where they’re sitting. 

It feels good, to be so desired that it’s uncontrollable. To be so desired that the desire must be dealt with, must be whittled down simply by the act of having. Of taking.

Obi-Wan doesn’t feel guilty about how good it feels. It should feel good to be touched. It should be some sort of bonus to the undercover mission that it is sometimes him whose hands shake with the desire to be on Anakin’s skin. It is not something he needs to feel guilty about.

It is not something his father needs to know about either, the way that the son he raised turns into a slut the moment a criminal gets between his thighs.

And luckily enough, right now, Obi-Wan is the sole decider of what Qui-Gon Jinn gets to know. That’s the nature of being the only rat to have lived this long in the Skywalker mob. That’s the nature of being the only rat. Obi-Wan gets to decide what he tells his team and what he leaves out of their quick and hurried meetings when Obi-Wan’s supposed to be on a run.

But—but he was supposed to be the only rat.

He was not supposed to look across the long table laden with food that Anakin uses for his mob meetings and see a face he recognized. 

Obi-Wan’s head is swimming, and his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears that Anakin must be able to hear it too. That must be why he adjusts his grip on him, dragging him further into his arms as if that will make him feel safer.

All it does is drag the hem of his shorts further up his thigh, exposing the lace end of the stockings he’s wearing. All it does is tug the droopy material of his shirt off his shoulder—revealing the strappy red lace of the bralette beneath.

It has happened before—hell, Obi-Wan has dressed like this in front of these men for the express purpose of this happening, of his outfit revealing what lies beneath while he can feign ignorance. Nothing gets Anakin’s hands on him faster than other men seeing what he thinks is only his.

What is only his.

He came tonight wearing the brightest colors of pretty things he owned in order for this to happen because it has been far too long since Anakin last snapped. He has been far too put together lately, far too...distant.

It makes Obi-Wan’s chest tight with anxiety. He has not yet been able to figure out what attracted the mob boss to him in the first place, and he’s spent the last several days wondering if it’s gone. If he’s about to be tossed to the side, ripped out of Anakin’s bed with the same ease he was granted entry.

Or—maybe worse, what if Anakin has made him as a rat? What if he’s to be killed?

What if his father knows that and he thought to send in Obi-Wan’s replacement before he can die? It would be less suspicious, wouldn’t it? 

No. Obi-Wan is being paranoid. Too paranoid. Even if he were to lose Anakin’s attention, he has the twins wrapped around his thumb. Anakin cannot kill him, his children would not stand for it. 

And—it would give him time to figure out what he did wrong, what made Anakin’s eyes stray. He could be better. Figure out how to do better, be what he needed.

For the sake of the mission.

And…there would be no way for his father to catch wind of the mob realizing there’s a rat before Obi-Wan knows. 

So the fact that Quinlan Vos is sitting close to the foot of the table…that he’s here, in this room, as a ranking member of Anakin’s mob….

That must mean that his father does not trust him to be doing his job. That Obi-Wan’s performance has disappointed him somehow, that he hasn’t been enough. He has not given them the information that they need and so his father has found a replacement.

And now the man who used to help Obi-Wan sort his father’s highlighters by color and size is staring at him from down the table, looking at the lines of his lingerie as he sits on the lap of the most dangerous mob boss in the city.

“Well,” Anakin says, tossing his napkin onto his empty plate. “Let’s break so that they can clean up this mess. And then—to business, men.”

The words are met with the thud and scrape of twenty or thirty chairs pushing back from their seats as the owners vacate them obediently. Obi-Wan, just as obedient, stays still. Anakin’s hand has clasped around the back of his neck, keeping him in position. 

“You’re shaking, little mouse,” the mob boss murmurs.

“It’s cold,” Obi-Wan replies automatically, turning his face into his neck. He presses the faintest of kisses there and thinks about ripping the man’s throat open with his teeth, ending all of his problems now. 

“Aw, baby, but you look so pretty like this,” Anakin says, ghosting his hand up the outside of his thigh and resting it just beneath the hem of his shorts. Then, his tone changes, growing lower, darker. Vader.  “The men couldn’t look away.”

Obi-Wan tries to draw a breath, but it stalls out in his chest. He stills, and then immediately tries to pretend that he hasn’t, that his thoughts have flown to Vos, who had been just as surprised to see him in Anakin’s lap as Obi-Wan had been to see him at Anakin’s table. 

“Hm?” Vader continues, as if Obi-Wan has spoken.

“I didn’t notice,” Obi-Wan finally says, sitting back so he can look fully into Vader’s eyes. “All I was looking at was you.”

They’re different from Anakin’s, Vader’s eyes. He would include this in his reports if he could figure out a way to say it that doesn’t make him sound insane. It’s been a long-held theory, that Anakin Skywalker isn’t always just Anakin Skywalker, but no one’s ever been able to have irrefutable proof.

But looking into Vader’s eyes, Obi-Wan knows. Knows it’s Vader who is looking back. Anakin is a dangerous man all on his own, but Vader…Vader is another beast entirely.

One that Obi-Wan isn’t prepared to deal with right now. Not when he is so on edge. When Vos is here. At Anakin’s restaurant. At his table.

Does Obi-Wan’s father really think he has failed so entirely? Does he really think he needs to be replaced? Needs support?

“I need to stretch my legs,” Obi-Wan says, pushing away from Vader’s chest. “I heard you and Ahsoka talking over it, I know this meeting will be a long one.” “My, what big ears you have, little mouse,” Vader says silkily, even as he drops his hands and leans back in his chair. The dismissal is clear; Obi-Wan is being given what he wants.

He gets several steps away before he looks back at Anakin, hands tightening into fists and releasing. 

The man is watching him go, wine glass raised in front of his lips. He hasn’t closed his legs yet, sprawling out on his chair like it’s a throne.

And Obi-Wan is—torn. He needs to track down Vos. He needs to find a place to talk with him. 

But he needs—he needs to stay here, with Anakin. He needs to turn back around and press himself up against Anakin’s chest once more, spread himself over him and make him feel good. So good that Anakin will not kill him nor tell him to leave and kill him all the same.

The shame and guilt that come on the heels of that thought are strong enough to force him to look away, force him out of the room.

He doesn’t get far.

A hand wraps around his arm and pulls him aside almost as soon as he’s exited the wide main room of the second floor of Anakin’s restaurant.

Obi-Wan makes an automatic, furious sound, but the hold on his arm only tightens as he’s pulled further into a dark and quiet alcove, mostly shielded by a marbled statue.

“What the hell are you doing,” the man who has grabbed Obi-Wan whispers furiously, and Obi-Wan goes almost boneless with relief. Oh, thank God it’s Vos.

“Me? What are you doing—” he turns around to face him fully, as much as the tight space can allow. “Did my father send you?”

In the shadows of the alcove, Obi-Wan can barely see Vos roll his eyes. “Probably in his mind, yeah, he did. I got back from one undercover mission, got sent the contacts for another almost immediately, wound up here, where his precious son’s whor—”

“What does that mean—”

“And he should have, Jesus, Kenobi! They told me you were making nice with the mob, wait until they hear you’re grinding up on Vader during his business meetings, what the fuck—-”

“No!” Obi-Wan doesn’t mean to say it so loudly or so vehemently, but he can’t. Qui-Gon was never supposed to know, no one was supposed to know, and now they will, and maybe his father will pull him off the case, can he do that? Would he try? If he thought Obi-Wan was doing a bad enough job, he would. He would take him away, get Detective Secura to arrest him next time they meet for information, it wouldn’t blow his cover, but it would take him away from—

From Anakin.

Obi-Wan can’t let that happen.

He hears footsteps, pointed and loud, coming down the hallway toward them. The break must nearing over, it’ll be time to get back to the real meat of the meeting, the actual mob business now, and then Obi-Wan won’t see Vos again. No way Anakin would let him spend a moment alone with another man—it would look suspicious anyway, if Ben knew this random mobster. Two rats getting cozy under the same roof, it doesn’t look good.

Anakin can’t know. Obi-Wan can’t lose him. He can’t lose him.

He can’t.

I’m sorry, he thinks and he knows it’s not good enough but the guilt does not drown out the need burning in his chest. The desire that cannot be controlled.

In the next moment, he’s pushing Vos up against the wall of the alcove, forcing him back with a grunt that’s loud enough that the footsteps outside pause.

Turn.

Just as Obi-Wan presses his lips against Vos’, pulling his own shirt down to look dissheveled. Messy. Like someone has been running their hands over his clothes.

“Oh, now that’s something Vader will want to know about,” Ahsoka Tano says. Obi-Wan rips himself away almost as fast as he pushed himself into Vos’ space.

It isn’t an act when he rubs the back of his hand over his lips. He’d kissed Vos mid-word, gotten the man’s spit in his mouth. He doesn’t like the taste, wishes it was Anakin’s.

“Tano,” he says. “Just making friends.”

Tano’s eyebrows fly up further than Obi-Wan’s ever seen them. “You get all your friends killed, Ben?”

Vos moves to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and the guilt and shame slam into Obi-Wan so suddenly that he almost rocks back from the blow. Vos is eight years older than him; was just fresh from the academy when Obi-Wan was still just a kid left to twiddle his thumbs at the police station waiting for his father to take him home. He’d gotten him take-out before. Coffee. Water. Little games to play with.

And Obi-Wan has gotten him killed.

“A little kiss won’t kill me,” Vos says, clapping a hand to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. There’s a note of bravado in his voice.

“Not quickly,” Tano promises. She raises her hand, snaps it when Obi-Wan doesn’t exit as quickly as she wants. “Come on, Benny. Let’s get you back to daddy.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says, taking a shaking step forward. All he can think about suddenly is Vos, a decade younger and relegated to a shitty desk in the back of the station first year out of the academy, shoes up on his files, biology flashcards in his hands as he ran Obi-Wan through the questions.

What has he done?

What has he done?

“Please,” he finally says, stumbling out of the alcove, and when his voice wavers, he’s not faking it. What has he done? He has gotten Vos killed—and for what? Why had he kissed him? He could have—he could have talked to him, he could have begged. He could have explained the situation, why did he have to—

Because there is nothing Obi-Wan can say that will make Tano hold her tongue.

And there is nothing Obi-Wan can do to stay Anakin’s hands. He has murdered people for less. Perhaps this time he’ll murder Obi-Wan too, that way Obi-Wan will not have to live too long with the weight of this guilt.

“Ladies first,” Tano says as she opens the door back into the room. It’s buzzing with the sound of other people’s voices, the movement of them as they find their seats once more.

Obi-Wan walks forward and Anakin’s eyes snap to him immediately. They’re dark and narrowed, as if he already knows more than he likes.

The walk has never been longer to get to Anakin’s side once more. 

He’s pulled to stand in between Anakin’s spread thighs, the man’s hands falling to his waist and pulling him in, splaying out across his hips.

“Mm,” the mobster murmurs, and Obi-Wan’s legs are so shaky that he has to clamber up onto his lap just to avoid falling apart then and there. What has he done. What has he done?

“You smell different, baby,” Anakin says. “What have you been doing?” Obi-Wan wonders suddenly, wildly, if he can smell his fear. If he could see it in his eyes as he approached.

“Making friends,” Tano reports as she drops into the chair next to them. “Tongue first.”

Anakin’s hands still and then tighten. When he speaks, his voice is low and deep and all Vader. “Is that right, little mouse?”

And Obi-Wan—there is nothing Obi-Wan can do save for letting the guilt kill him.

So Obi-Wan nods. He nods and raises Vader's chin with his hand, forcing him to look at him. "I told you I was cold," he said as if he'd been so cold he found another man's body to keep him warm in the minutes he was away from Anakin.

Anakin's eyes are like pieces of ice. There's no warmth in them, but there's a glowing light of something that looks a lot like hunger. Fascination.

It's the same way he looked at him when he first saw him. As if he were intrigued.

The expression makes something that has been wound tight these last few weeks dissolve into nothing. Anakin's eyes promise that there will be no more distance between them. That he has not grown so tired of him that he will be discarded with next week's recycling.

And despite the guilt, the worry, the shame that's burning Obi-Wan's insides to ash, that look in Anakin's eyes warms him to the core.

[the-starry-seas]

My fellow Leverage fan! I have a question! Star Wars (specifically TCW era) Leverage au, who are you putting in which role on the team?

ooh okay I'm thinking 👀

Mastermind is Windu. That man is bonkers frickin smart and having had to handle Jedi and politicians and Force powers for so long? This team is a cakewalk, he's on vacation, he's enjoying himself. Critically lacking in family/Catholic trauma but he's having such a good time that I can't hold that against him.

Grifter is Obi-Wan. He has the perfect combination of looks (those eyes do half the work), steady temperament, gremlin behaviour with little provocation, and YOLO-ery to pull off just about anything he sets his mind to. (Briefly considered making him the hitter due to his canonical propensity to remove people of their limbs.)

Hitter is Jango. He's got shit to work out, he's good at what he does, and he'd look great with long hair. Surprisingly like Eliot in that he's got a circle of female acquaintances that he learns things from. Arguably never been one to try to atone for the shit he's done, but also arguably has the daddy issues thing down pat. Also at some point Eliot should have Obtained Child and this is my opportunity to make that a reality (kinda).

Hacker is Tech. Because I love him and also because look at him. He's the best at what he does! And he's already part of a weird renegade clone unit so he's got some team-oriented skills and is used to being up to weird shit. It's like taking a collie to a sheep farm, he's got a job and he's very good at it and he WILL be doing it.

Thief is Quinlan. His experience as a Shadow makes him good at finding things, and getting into and out of places unseen. Also I think canon Quinlan would really love the brain-puzzle of the lasers and locks and all that. He switches out museum exhibits just to give the curators a crisis over Who Did That. Also I think he'd get a kick out of jumping off buildings.