#as long as Obi-Wan has that...

[lightasthesun]

This man needed his husband so bad...

imagine though if Cody had been in the show, had been in this scene and Obi-Wan wakes up from this nightmare and has this absolutely broken and devastated look on his face and then the screen cuts to Cody entering the scene and Obi-Wans face breaks with relief 😭😭😭😭

[tennessoui]

Obikin for number 41 of the ask game, if you’re up for it - thanks!

absolutely!

[from this list of prompts]

[5. 'are you jealous' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

41. "you did all of this for me?"

Vader's precious padawan blinks down at him, lovely blue eyes wet and wide. He's sitting in an empty Council seat, Anakin's Council seat, and Vader is kneeling at his feet. Vader had once sworn, years ago now at the time he first earned his Sith name, that he would never kneel at another's feet again.

What a fool he'd been then.

Or--not a fool. Just so incredibly shortsighted.

"I don't understand," Obi-Wan tells him quietly, and Vader gives him a smile, shakes his head in fondness. There is very little in the entire galaxy that his padawan can't understand should he put his mind to it.

Obi-Wan simply does not want to understand, though the evidence is laid out so neatly before him. Physically before him, for that matter.

His padawan's stubbornness would be endearing if it were not so inconvenient. If it did not come with the boy drawing his knee up and out of Vader's reach the moment he goes to touch him.

As if he cannot bear his master's touch. As if he does not recognize him.

Vader lets out a measured breath, searching to calm himself. It is hardly his padawan's fault that he's reacting this way. Vader had always envisioned himself coaxing Obi-Wan into the truth in order to let him accept it.

Tonight had hardly gone as planned.

For all parties involved.

"I had no choice," Vader tells him now, grasping his knee with his flesh palm and pushing it up--allowing himself to touch, to feel. He'd returned to the Temple long past sunset. Had stopped here in the Council chambers first for a moment before fetching his padawan from his bed. Obi-Wan is still in his night clothes, pale and vulnerable and suitable only for Vader's eyes.

But then, Vader has always thought that.

"You killed the Chancellor," Obi-Wan tells him. His voice jumps up, high and distressed and his eyes flicker back and forth between Vader and the body behind him. The Chancellor's head is somewhere further away still, though his padawan cannot bring himself to look at it. "The Chancellor of the Republic!"

"Yes," Vader agrees. It had been a death long overdue, but Obi-Wan does not need to know that.

"He was my friend," Obi-Wan says, eyebrows furrowed and eyes so wet and beautiful. It means something, Vader thinks. That Obi-Wan is not running away. That he isn't screaming. That he has allowed himself to be pushed into Anakin Skywalker's Council seat even after seeing the body that Vader has brought him. Even after seeing Anakin Skywalker's golden eyes.

"He was my master," Vader says, and watches carefully--greedily--as the realization slides across his padawan's face. There is pain and sadness and disbelief and hurt and anger and agony, and his padawan wears them all so beautifully.

"You said--" Obi-Wan stops, wets his lips. His eyes jump to Vader's face and then remain there, pinned and punishing. "You said it was for me. That you...you did it for me. All of it?"

"Yes," Vader agrees easily, though Obi-Wan has not been very specific. It is true nonetheless. Since the boy came into his life all those years ago, hurt and angry and wounded at the tender age of fifteen, everything Anakin Skywalker has done has been for the boy. All of it. Always. He Fell for him. He killed for him. He protected him from every silent threat that could have hurt him, every lustful Jedi who got too close to him, every disappointment, every skinned knee. Or he tried to, at least. And took away his pain when he couldn't be there to stop the insult in the first place. All of it has been for the boy. His boy. His precious padawan.

"But I...I never wanted anyone to die," Obi-Wan whispers, eyes tugged back to the headless body of the Chancellor. "I never...I never wanted you to Fall. Master, this isn't you, this isn't--"

Vader leans forward. Obi-Wan's night clothes have slipped up his leg from the touch of Vader's hand, and his padawan's skin is exposed. Vader has spent years exercising control that fails him now. He presses his lips against that fragile, soft skin, and the Force rears back with desire.

Not his own desire.

"You have a choice, little one," he murmurs, reveling in the feeling of his lips brushing against skin that has for so long been denied to him by his own self-control. If he were a weaker man, perhaps he would have given into his padawan's desires long ago. Before things were ready. Before the moment was right. "You have many choices to make, actually. And so little time to make them."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says, pleas, really. His hands tangle in his hair, though if the boy means to tug him away, he forgets to. Instead, the touch simply lingers. "Please, Master, I don't--I won't--"

"The Chancellor had plans to destroy the Jedi Order and the Republic," Vader says, low and sweet. "He has placed control chips in the minds of the clones. The right phrase, said into the right comm-link, will trigger the downfall of the Jedi."

"No," Obi-Wan breathes, which is what Vader had thought his padawan would think. It is so sweet to be proven correct.

Though it is a pity, really. He thinks he would have liked to be emperor now that Sidious has fallen. But though the tug of the Dark Side encourages greed, there is undeniably something that Vader wants more than the galaxy.

"I know," he soothes his padawan, using the Force to tug him closer. The boy doesn't resist, as if he has forgotten that he can. "I know, it would have been horrible, sweetheart. But I killed him. He is dead."

He is dead for unrelated reasons, of course. Dead not because of his plans or because of the Order. Dead because he dared invite Obi-Wan for tea while Vader was off planet. Dead because he touched his padawan, put his hand on his shoulder during a public appearance at the opera.

Obi-Wan does not need to know this.

"I have to go though," Vader tells him instead. A whisper. Heartbroken and gutted and utterly false. "He manipulated me into Falling, sweet one. And now I have to go because the Jedi Order will imprison me should I stay."

And, like the sweetest of victories, Obi-Wan's hands clench tighter into his hair. "No," he says. "No, they wouldn't--we can explain. You can--can explain--"

"I cannot risk my freedom in that way, sweetling," Vader says, and his voice is hurt and hard and so, so false. "They will not listen. Or they will see a Fallen man, a Sith with golden eyes, and they will fear him. They will take you away from me. Give you to another master to train."

"They won't--"

"They will," Vader murmurs. He pushes his hands higher up Obi-Wan's legs, taking the nightrobes with him as he goes. Exposing more of his padawan to the cool night air of the Council chambers, to the heat of his master's eyes. "If not because I am a man Fallen then because they will certainly check the security holos of this room. And they will see this. My mouth on your skin. Your hands in my hair. Of course they will take you away from me should we stay."

Obi-Wan trembles beneath his lips. He trembles and his Force signature sways, burning hot with guilt and shame and desire. Longing. Love.

"So you have a choice, baby. I need to leave. Because of what I did to protect you. And you--you can let me go alone, or you can come with me."

His padawan's hands tighten in his hair, and Vader could be Force-blind and still feel the pulse of want at his words. But it is not enough to have Obi-Wan Kenobi want him. He needs to need him.

He needs to follow him.

"I would never leave you," Vader tells him. This, finally, after everything else, is the truth. He wonders if his padawan understands it for the threat it is. "Please, Obi-Wan. Do not leave me either."

Obi-Wan's blue eyes, so lovely, so loved, blink down at him. He opens his mouth and wets his lips. "Master," he murmurs. It is the most beautiful sound, his capitulation.

[mock-arts]

Here’s a collection of my fav Cody and Obi faces from the last couple years.

[intermundia]

here's a set of very important excerpts from about four pages of the fight on utapau between obi-wan and grievous, wherein obi-wan is in fine form, with just so much peak obi-wan behavior:

"dismantle your exoskeleton" really, obi-wan?? threatening him with both death and the desecration of his corpse?

"mildly" 😳

his presence alone became a weapon

acting so fuckin casually like this with the most feared murderous villain is just so..............

he sighed

"i trained the man who killed him" 🥵

i just.... the amount of dick energy radiating from obi-wan in this scene is unreal, like stover wrote him to be so fucking cool, he didn't have to make him this fucking sexy, he could've been much less charming, and yet.. he's like this!!!! he's so dangerous and yet deceptively pleasant and polite the whole time. the honestly vaguely homoerotic appreciation and admiration in this book for ✨obi-wan✨ is a large part of what makes it so incredible lol

[gentlespace]

maybe this is too cringe & self indulgent of me but i have chronic pain so i want obi-wan to have chronic pain and to suffer can you please draw him using a cane that would just... i think cure every single one of my mental illnesses, personally

very on board with the Obi-Wan with a cane concept and got a bit carried away doing this! they just want him to take a break and sit down

[ninjigma]

It has been… so long since I did anything traditionally literal years but starting with a random post order 66 Quinlan felt like the right way to begin doing it again

Really need to practice traditionally more because force, the issues I see XD we will persist though

[jewishcissiekj]

Jedi Masters as parents

Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of The Clones | Shatterpoint | The Clone Wars Season 1 Episode 13 - Jedi Crash | The High Republic: A Test of Courage

[connecting-the-stars]

Character dynamics I apparently love:

Peeta and Obi-wan: loving the one person who actually see them and expects nothing in return, willing to build bridges as slowly as their loved one needs.

Falls first. It’s okay, the distance does not diminished my love.

Katniss and Cody: violently distrustful of the person who seems too kind that they rationalize it as a scheming act to lower their guard. Incredibly defensive to the person they haven’t fallen in love with quite yet.

Falls later, like a rock from a cliff. 10 to 1000. Terrifying level of devotion.

[cerucerus]

Fem!Kenobi design.

[madecookiestoday]

once in a while obi wan gets into a nostalgic mood about how much anakin has grown. he digs up anakins old drawings and holopictures and a tunic he was supposed to fix but never did so it lies folded in the bottom of his drawer.

then there is a hollow tugging inside his chest because anakin used to be even smaller. anakin said his first words and walked his first steps and fixed his first droid and obi wan was not there to see it. no one can tell him what it felt like to hold a warm bundled anakin, small enough to fit in one arm. was anakin born with hair? did he like to be held like he does now?

obi wan thinks about anakins mother. is anakin anything like her? does he carry her eyes, her laugh, her heart? he never met her, he wonders what difference it wouldve made if he did.

in a sealed corner of his heart, perhaps he wishes that anakin carried a little of him too. theyll never be connected by blood. theyll never have the intrinsic connection tying them together. but like anakin has burrowed himself inside his bones, where all his blood originates, maybe there are pieces of himself in anakin hed forgotten to take out. they slipped without meaning and anakin kept them. even if its only in the way he ties his robes and curses when he stubs his toe.

then there is embarrassment. white blinding shame at his thoughts. he stops his mind from spinning further. these are strange things to desire, obi wan recognizes it. un jedi like, un obi wan like even. no one knows. no one will know. he feels stupid in front of himself.

[lightasthesun]

you know what I think would be really funny?

Truth or dare or something similar with pre-relationship codywan.

[nebulous-frog]

I watched Tarzan tonight and then blacked out and uhhhh this happened? I guess in this au maybe Cody and some of his battalion got stranded on a planet basically immediately and a good ways into the war obi wan also gets stranded there? And Cody is wearing almost no clothes cuz the planet is hot or something idk don’t think about it too hard 😂

Anyway, please enjoy my brainrot, reference from the movie under the cut.

[tennessoui]

new wip wednesday

i wanted to get the first chapter of this done as an early bday present to me because ive been talking about this fic for foreverrrrr but its not gonna happen because im bad at measuring time and effort 😮‍💨 but look! hunger games au fic!

Anakin pushes his face into his neck, letting his lips press against his pulse for a moment. 

“Anakin,�� Obi-Wan murmurs, recognition and warning rolled into one tone. 

But Anakin wouldn’t be who he is if he allowed the man in his arms to so easily twist away. He wouldn’t even be here now, pressed up against him with the scent of saltwater and lilacs and leather filling his nose, if he let one warning word distract him from his goal.

So instead he pushes further, wraps his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips and takes the skin beneath his lips between his teeth. The soft fabric of their pants brush together, so loud in the stillness of the kitchen that it’s deafening—that it’s almost loud enough to drown out the catch in Obi-Wan’s breathing.

But Anakin has trained himself over the past five years to listen for all the small ways that Obi-Wan Kenobi capitulates, so he hears his sigh, feels the slump of his shoulders against his own as his head sways forward and then back.

Anakin takes his time worrying a bitemark into his neck, just at the edge of his beard. On the holos that will film Obi-Wan’s face today, it’ll look like a shadow. 

But Anakin will know. Obi-Wan will know. 

“Anakin,” his lover murmurs, and Anakin’s hand moves from his waist up to stroke down his arm, corded with tense muscle. Fisherman’s muscle. Victor’s muscle too.

Not today, he means. It’s obvious in every line of his body. It’s obvious in the fact that he left the bed so early in the morning when neither of them must work. It’s obvious in the distance in his eyes, the frown across his lips.

Today is not a day where Obi-Wan will accept pleasure from anyone’s lips or hands, undeserving as he feels to be on the receiving end of such a kindness.

Anakin’s left hand falls to cover Obi-Wan’s, tangling their fingers together. His are rougher than Obi-Wan’s, working man’s hands now that he is twenty-one and a man of the sea like most are on Stewjon. The rough drag of his calluses over the hairy knuckles of Obi-Wan’s hand makes Anakin swallow a smile. Victors of the Hunger Games are forbidden from working laborious jobs. They’re meant to languish away in their Coruscanti-funded manors, with idle minds and idle hands, picking at paints or design stencils or any number of different government approved hobbies

Obi-Wan Kenobi is not made to be idle. He has no patience for painting or sewing, for cooking or jewelry design. Luckily for him, Stewjon is the fourth planet from Coruscant, on the edge of the inner rim, and it’s rather small, rather ordinary. In the colder months, during the few months of the star year where the galaxy is not forced to care about the Hunger Games and its Victors, he can slip away to the ocean. Fish and sail like he was born to do, Stewjoni through and through.

But Anakin is out on those choppy seas year-round now that he’s four years finished with his compulsory education. His hands are rougher than Obi-Wan’s and they always will be.

Anakin likes it. Likes the way Obi-Wan’s softness contrasts against his own rougher places. Likes that he can sneak away from Obi-Wan’s manor in the blue of the pre-dawn light, first to the sea and then to the market, and Obi-Wan will be there when he gets back. Likes that when he leaves, his lover is curled up asleep in their bed. And when he returns with the fattest fish from his haul, Anakin can cook it for him too. 

He likes that he is the only thing Obi-Wan needs. He provides. He cooks for him. He feeds him. He touches him with his rough hands, to dirty him and then to clean him up. Everything that Obi-Wan needs, Anakin is the person to give it to him.

He supposes he has Coruscant to thank for that.

He’s not stupid enough to say that—ever, but especially today. Especially on the day of the Reaping. 

[mytardisisparked]

Tagged by @elephant-in-the-pride-parade to list my 5 favorite characters of all time in a poll and have folks vote on which ones are their favorites

I pulled out some of my OG faves from my entire career in fandom 🫡 If you notice a trend here don't hecking worry about it :)

Tagging: @jellybeansarecool @singeart @thescullyphile @vincentsleftear @emilie786 anybuddy else who wants to

[itstimeforstarwars]

I like to think that Obi-Wan has weird plants that he keeps on the ship during the war because after living with Qui-Gon for so long it's weird not to have any plants and no Cody he doesn't even like plants why would you even think that--

[crispyjenkins]

i drive myself absolutely bananas, because the writing i'm most proud of? that i love even more than anything i've done for star wars (except maybe dha kar'ta) or any other fandom i've posted for in the decade and a half i've been writing? that i want to share more than anything? unfinished witcher fics. over 80,000 words spread over a few stories, not including the thousands of words of the quick notes/ideas i have for even more stories and i love them so much. but if i post them before they're finished i'm never gonna finish them, or at least that's what it feels like. i haven't worked on any of them in months, but have put dozens and dozens of hours into plotting and timeline-ing and researching. i want to share them and brag about them and collaborate on them, but also like. i'm definitely a star wars blogger. i follow like three witcher blogs and none of them are active anymore, and i don't particularly want to make a witcher blog. and the unfinished stories on my ao3 already give me so much anxiety

but it also just leaves me sittin here on my own vibrating out of my skin with no outlet