#he takes a piece of Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan can only ever let him

[tragedy-for-sale]

Obi-Wan and Anakin and all the damage they've done to each other

Re-watching this scene will help you understand my analysis a lot more. The episode is S6 E6 The Rise of Clovis

When Obi-Wan comes into Anakin's room, he immediately picks up a droid head, showing an interest in what Anakin is doing while talking to him. You do this with kids, they're more likely to open up and talk to you because you're not really talking, you're just playing. Obi-Wan knows he's going to upset Anakin because he understands Anakin better than anyone. It's in this moment Obi-Wan reverts back into when they were younger, when Anakin was a child and Obi-Wan's role was much more parental.

Anakin opens up to Obi-Wan but then he gets upset. He walks away and he picks up the model star ship. He plays with the ship because it doesn't matter how old you get, you still feel like a child when you're with your parent. He opens up, but anger follows yet again, and the moment he gets angry, he slams the ship down because he's loved too deeply all his life and he doesn't want to hear about it again.

After Anakin slams the ship down, saying he understands his responsibilities, Obi-Wan's tone changes. It's no longer gentle, his voice is sharp and it's as if he's aged ten years. He tried approaching this situation with an invitation to let Anakin express his feeling. Obi-Wan mentions Satine, he tries to connect with Anakin by sharing something personal but Anakin yells at him instead.

Also, when Obi-Wan says this, he doesn't look at Anakin, his back is turned to him because he knows if Anakin is going to open up to him, it won't be face to face. Because how could they ever admit anything to each other after all the times they've let each other down? How can they look each other in the eye?

Watch Obi-Wan in the second and third gif, what Anakin says is his 'strikeback' he's frustrated and he's taking all of it out on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan no longer tries to reach Anakin, he lays down what needs to happen, daresay his tone is sharpest here, then he gets up and he leaves. Anakin knows that Obi-Wan knows, but Obi-Wan pretends not to know and he's happy to play along, and maybe he shouldn't keep pretending, but how could Obi-Wan do anything to ruin the only true happiness in Anakin's life?

So, Obi-Wan leaves, giving Anakin one last look, because he knows if he does anymore damage to Anakin, there'll be nothing left to ruin. Watch Obi-Wan's face in the gif, you cannot tell me he doesn't look sad. That's the face of a man trying to be strong but his eyes give him away.

LOOK AT ANAKIN'S HAND IN THE LAST GIF. HE'S REACHING FOR OBI-WAN BECAUSE HE WANTS TO TAKE ALL HIS ANGER BACK BUT ANGER IS ALL HE HAS TO GIVE.

[sugarrrvenomm]

can u do a fic where the reader is obi-wans padawan…… perhaps where he has to punish her for something …….. :D

ummm this got away from me ,,, anyway enjoy ,, ⭐️🐰🫶🧸��

♡ having anakin as a padawan made obi-wan sterner the second time around. but also … softer. 

♡ which is why his preferred method of keeping you in line is taking you over his knee

♡ hardly ever is it a “punishment” spanking, but that’s because his regularly scheduled “maintenance” spankings do the job just fine

♡ once a week, late at night, your master slinks to your quarters as the sun sets, telling anyone who asks that you’re meeting for meditation before bed. when he walks in, you are—sat on your knees atop a thin meditation mat like the good girl you are. he tells you as such, coming up behind you and petting a hand over your hair, “my good girl. are you centering yourself for me?”

♡ “yes, master.” you open your eyes and turn to look up at him, resting your head on his thigh and squirming in anticipation, even as his presence quiets your mind, turning your thoughts into a pleasing, low buzz of safety and arousal

♡ you weren’t sure when obi-wan’s hands on you became arousing. maybe they always had been. you just pray to the force he doesn’t notice. 

♡ “come now, padawan. let’s get you all sorted out.” he walks over to the singular place to sit in your meager padawan quarters—a soft, ottoman-like piece that’s just big enough for him. he pats his thigh and you stand up, going to him and standing between his spread legs. he reaches up, stroking your padawan braid between his fingers reverently before tugging gently so he can plant his lips on your forehead in a soothing gesture, before he’s cooing, “over my knee.”

♡you nod, and do as he says. you’re still clad in your robes, only missing your belt and boots. you’re so used to this that you no longer shake when you bend over, settling yourself over your masters lap with his help, your ass in the space between his legs and your fingers barely brushing the floor. he tugs up your tunics, just enough to expose your backside. never once has he gone as far to pull your leggings down, despite how you dream about it.

♡ before he begins, he rests a hand on the back of your thigh, squeezing once to signal he’s about to start. obi-wan tries not to be affected by the way your flesh pillows beneath his fingers through your pants. he doesn’t know when this started becoming arousing either, but he desperately wishes it would go back to when it wasn’t. you’re his padawan, for force’s sake.

♡ the sooner he gets it over with, the sooner he can return to his quarters and stand under the spray of his cold shower until he can’t feel a thing. so, he makes sure he’s got you secured, with one hand on your hip, then swings the other down in a swift crack against the meat of your ass. 

♡ “why am i doing this?”

♡ “to make me a better jedi, master,” you tell him, panting already.

♡ crack. another hit, on your other cheek. your pretty voice, combined with the way your ass ripples, has him gritting his teeth. “that’s right, padawan.” slap slap slap. you make a hurt little sound. “master does this because he cares about you. because he wants you to succeed.”

♡ you try to contain your noises, and curl your toes as the spanking continues. he’s not even hitting that hard, he never does, but it stings, and sends desperate lightning bolts of forbidden arousal to your pussy, which you can feel getting warm and wet between your legs. 

♡ your cute little ass won’t stop jiggling through your leggings, and he has to distract himself. he strikes you, over and over again, in quick enough succession that there’s no time for him to see the way your backside moves, and the sound of his slaps overpower your muffled whines. soon, the pain in his hand is threatening to take over the heat pooling in his gut. 

♡ what obi-wan doesn’t expect, is the way you react. you’re usually so well behaved during your spankings, so docile. now, you’re squirming in his hold, like you’re trying to get away from him. of course, he can’t possibly guess it’s because his flurry of strikes have gotten you feeling like you could come from nothing at all, like your cunt may start pulsing in orgasm any second now just from being spanked by your master. 

♡ “padawan,” he chastises, grabbing your hip even tighter and bringing his hand down. with the way you’re wriggling, it doesn’t land quite right, and hits dangerously close to your center. “what has gotten into you?” he grits out through his teeth as you kick your feet. you don’t seem to be reacting well to his strong-arming, so he settles his voice into a coo, even as he continues to spank you. “i need you to be good for me, little one. master can’t help you if you don’t let him.”

♡ his coddling only makes it worse. you thrash. “master,” you pout, and obi-wan cannot take it anymore. the irritation at your unusual outburst combines with his frustration at his own arousal and he growls, stopping his strikes only for a moment to grip the band of your leggings and tug, exposing your ass to him. your underwear are modest cotton, but pale pink—certainly not jedi issued. he’s truly lost it, because the only thing he can think to do in response to the obscenity of his own actions is to double down; slapping your exposed ass, and oh. this is is even worse. like this, he can see how his hand has already turned the skin pink like your panties.

♡ “master!” you cry out, sticking a hand behind you to block him, but he catches your wrist with his other hand. 

♡ “no,” obi-wan says, sternly as he can, slapping your ass again and feeling his cock throb in his pants. he might be harder than he’s ever been in his entire life. “you know i do this because i love you.”

♡ you make a sound he’s never heard before, and this time when you thrash your legs, he can’t help looking where your legs part, and your panties cup the part of you he’s been thinking about for far longer than is appropriate.

♡ “fuck,” he suddenly curses. there’s a damp spot. you’re wet. his padawans pussy is drooling in her panties, just for him. from him. from his spanking.

♡ he forgoes the spanking, for now, forgetting himself completely and gripping your thigh tight, spreading you wider so he can get a better look. “oh, darling. why didn’t you tell me?” finally, you settle, and now you just shake, unsure of his reaction. “are you all wet from your spanking?”

♡ crying out, tears pool in your eyes as you’re stuck between arousal and embarrassment. still, you only feel yourself get wetter.

♡ obi-wan’s breath comes out in a shudder, and he slides his big hand up your thigh, and touches the damp spot with his thumb, just barely. “does it ache?” you don’t answer, only mewling, and he pushes his thumb against you harder, feeling his cock drool sticky pre-come into his briefs. “tell me, padawan. what’s worse? the soreness of your ass, or the throbbing of your little cunt?”

♡ “obi-wan,” you moan, finally looking over your shoulder at him, eyes big and wet.

♡ your master pumps his hips up, and against your hip you feel him, rock hard and rubbing on you. “it’s okay, honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed. look how hard you’ve made me.

♡ you continue to squirm, sweating in your robes. “hurts.”

♡ “mm, i bet it does,” he hooks a finger under the side of your panties and tugs it, exposing more of your ass. “you’re so pink.” he lets it snap back into place, then smoothes his hand over your ass completely, going down until he’s fully cupping your center. “and i bet this pussy’s all messy too, huh? is your cute little clit all puffed up for me?” he moves his hand in a big, sweeping circle over the whole of you, and it shouldn’t be as stimulating as it is. he’s just teasing you, watching the way the damp spot blooms and spreads.

♡ “what should i do with you, padawan?”

♡you suck in a shuddering breath, and gather your nerves, “i—i—,” you sniffle, and he slides his hand under your tunics to rub your back. “i need you to make it better, master.”

♡ obi-wan groans, and uses all the control he has left to gently lift you off of him, and get you settled the way he wants, on your back. he tugs your leggings all the way down, but leaves your panties. for now. he hovers over you, taking off his tunics and exposing his muscled, hairy chest. you whine at the sight, and he chuckles. “patience,” obi-wan purrs, before tugging his own trousers down just enough to free his cock, tucking the waistband under his heavy balls.

♡ overwhelmed, you have no idea what do with all the desire running through you, or with the sight in front of you. your master coos, settling down over you, lowering until his big cock nestles in the space between your thighs, pressing against your panties and throbbing against your cunt. he barely moves his hips, but moans like he’s sinking inside of you.

♡ “are you a virgin?” he’s a bit disgusted with himself for asking, but he can’t stop.

♡ “uh-huh,” you nod, trying to hump back up along his big cock.

♡ “ugh,” he groans, “of course you are. my perfect little padawan. master’s the only one that gets to touch you, isn’t he?” you make the same little uh-huh sound, and obi-wan lowers his head into your neck, holding himself up with one hand now so he can reach between your bodies and pull your panties down enough for his fat cock to slide along your wet cunt. padawans cunt. my padawans little, wet, virgin pussy. 

♡“you’re perfect,” he mumbles into your neck, thrusting along you faster, breath hitching as he feels his leaking tip glide over your swollen clit. he brings his hand back up, and stuffs it under your tunics, until he’s cupping one of your breasts, squeezing it gently and rubbing his thumb over your nipple to hear the way you gasp.

♡ “master master master.” he covers you completely, and you’re drowning in the scent of him, so close that you can rub your nose along his neck and taste his sweat. “obi-wan,” you murmur as the tip of him nudges your entrance, “will you fuck me?”

♡ “oh, gods,” he pants, and fuck does he want to. he wants so terribly, so horribly, to sink his big cock in your pussy. no prep, no fingers, just the slick of how wet you are would be enough. he’d get so deep he’d knock your cervix, fucking right up against your womb until you were all swollen with his come like you should be.

♡ “i shouldn’t,” the reasonable part of him grits out, even as his hips pump faster and he imagines spreading you open, how cute you’d look as his come slides out of your used pussy, before he bends down to lap it up and suck on your clit until you squirt all over his face. “baby, honey, i can’t.”

♡ “please!” you beg, nudging your hips up and trying to catch the head of him at just the right angle to get his cock to sink in. “don’t you want to?”

♡ “padawan,” he hisses, letting go of your tits and bringing his hand back out to slap your thigh. “first, getting soaked from your master punishing you like a naughty little girl, and now begging him to fuck you? is that really what you want? for your master to take your virginity? you want master to own your cunt?”

♡ his words are too much, and you feel your pussy throb between your legs, pulsing as you’re sent over the edge by his voice and his weight and the thrust of his heavy cock against your soaked pussy and clit. it’s wordless, but you nearly scream, biting into his neck and bucking your hips to prolong the shaking of your legs.

♡ “fuck, fuck, oh, sweetheart, my pretty little padawan, let me feel that cunt throb, mess my cock just like that,” obi-wan stares down between your bodies, watching the wet pink of your pussy gliding along his cock, the sounds getting nastier and wetter and so fucking dirty it sends him right over the edge too, and your cute little pussy is getting painted white.

[galactic-rhea]

The thing with Anakin TCW is that I try to reconcille both "versions" of Anakin, but because I keep in mind that at the end of the day, TCW is a serialized kids show, and he's also a general and in charge of a padawan so he must be really charismatic for that to work (long rambling ahead)

This show came in an era where shows ran long, with very random plots per episode and just very few that advanced "a plot", so characters that are new for the show get more development (since they were at zero), and Anakin with already three movies (technically 6 if we count the original trilogy), a mini series, and a bunch of books and comics, feels more flat for the very short narrative purposes.

The way i see it, TCW can be like seeing Anakin from someone's else eyes, like that's probably how Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex saw him, cocky and sassy and fearless and daring and untouchable and cool and sometimes with anger coming from apparently nowhere, and the movies are the actual "omnipresent" look, we see how actually deeply fucked up and scared Anakin is!

TCW gives like a very pink tinted glasses view of him, a very standarized version of him, since the "otherness" that he has in the prequels was really hated (and with otherness i mean that he acts alienated and tormented, is because of the trauma, but also because he can be so easily read as neurodivergent and/or queer; movie Anakin looks like he might as well be a giant walking target for bullying, so to speak), so TCW Anakin looks like he totally would have never ever been bullied, he's the cool kid.

If I don't constantly keep on mind this is probably Ahsoka's POV, it can be a bit hard to connect, like the last episodes in TCW, when he sees Ahsoka, he's like 2 days before ROTS, and he looks so cheerful and normal and sassy, but then if you look at ROTS, he looks so tired and beaten up and just depressed after that battle. But Anakin, in AOTC and ROTS, in general, is a person that looks like doesn't even want to be there at all, he looks like he would rather turn invisible.

I don't have that many problems with Anakin in TCW except for certain arcs (looking at you clovis), because many things in the show do add to Anakin's narrative and character (or more like, pilling up even more trauma onto him for the big moment), but it's not a complete look because by the point we should see how he's dealing or coping with something the episode ends and the next episode is about something different. TCW is plot focused and there are very little "breathing" moments before the action, and is not very character focused. Which leaves the audience with the task of remembering that whatever happened in the show is another piece of the puzzle that may or may not fit perfectly with the character that was presented on the prequels.

"This episode very painfully reminds you that he was a slave, and he's angry about it, very angry...for one bit of the episode, let's go back to the fun action." It touches it, but it doesn't explore it, if you get what I mean? Like, we can only imagine if he had difficult weeks after that or how even was the conversation after all that whole mess, just as an example.

I agree that Anakin in TCW is a incomplete version of his character, because TCW focuses a lot on the Clones and Ahsoka and other little stories, however I also think it does add lots of stuff to explore, even if the show didn't explore it deeply, but touched on it.

And I understand too why it causes such a division, and why some may prefer the TCW version more, and why some may prefer only the movies version.

I mainly use the movies, and then take from TCW what I feel like it fits/makes sense for him, and shake TCW a little bit if i need to, although i still really love it : D

[formlessvoidbeast]

Smut prompt: sexytimes as a distraction during recovery from minor injury and/or first time, but neither partner is actually as human as they look with all their clothes on

The jangobi brain worms persist, so I hope you don't mind I decided to write this prompt for them.

.

“There you are, my dear.” Obi-Wan carefully adhered the brace around Jango's chest. It would, hopefully, keep him from twisting and bending and aggravating his heavily bruised ribs in the few hours it would take for the bacta injection to finish its work. Obi-Wan patted his side when he was finished. “All done. You'll be back to piledriving your enemies in no time I'm sure.”

“Hmph.” Jango huffed at him, grimacing as he settled into the couch beside him. He didn't bother going for a shirt, leaving quite a lot of his magnificently soft and muscled chest and belly on display. “How's the leg?” he asked.

“On the mend.” Obi-Wan wiggled his toes, where they emerged from the brace on his ankle. His knee had one too. The nasty injury he'd taken had not been improved by running on it, afterward. Even the Force could only provide so much support to it, when most of his attention had to be on the fight.

Jango had been hired by the parents of a missing child, while Obi-Wan had been sent to root out the blackmailers as a whole. Of course, once Obi-Wan realized there were kidnapped children involved, he had altered his mission to one of rescue. Jango had arrived when Obi-Wan's mission went to pieces, and glued it back together again with expeditious violence.

“I do appreciate the timely save.” Obi-Wan dropped his voice, low and sultry. “How ever will I be able to repay you?”

Jango rolled his eyes, Force presence amused. “It only made sense to work together, if we were on the same job. No debts.” He rubbed at the brace on his ribs, looked around the dingy safehouse Obi-Wan had brought him to. His fingers drummed on his knees. “Not much to do here, is there,” he mused. True, the space was very small, smaller even than that one Senator's closet Obi-Wan had once spent half a day hidden out in. There wasn't much of entertainment to be had, and Jango was a man of action. Obi-Wan would simply have meditated until he was healed, on his own.

“There's always conversation?” Obi-Wan suggested.

“All right, conversation.” Jango tipped his head to the side, eyeing Obi-Wan with a familiar hint of hunger. “I've been wondering. Do you ever actually kriff, or you just like flirting?”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan had dodged that question several times over the years of their occasional acquaintance. Both of them being laid up for a few hours together made it much harder to duck. There was no easy distraction to be had. “I do have a lot of fun flirting,” he said. “And it's not that I dislike sex but, well...” Obi-Wan didn't look toward Jango, didn't reach out in the Force to get a hint of what he was feeling. Obi-Wan trusted him enough, now, for honesty: that didn't mean he wanted to feel the rejection. “I'm... quite a bit less baseline-human than I look, you see. Easier to leave it as a flirtation everyone enjoys than be a disappointment.”

He very much was not expecting the absolute roar of laughter Jango let out. Jango winced, grabbing at his bruised ribs, but did not stop laughing. And he was lovely, in his joy, even if Obi-Wan was entirely confused.

“You need to sleep with more Mandos if you think not baseline is going to throw one of us.” Jango chuckled, shaking his head. “We mostly look human, but we've blended with everything a human can and some things it really didn't seem like we should be able to.” He leaned toward Obi-Wan, strong white teeth flashing as his voice dropped. “Someone lets you under the armor, you praise the manda and work with whatever they've got going on.”

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, a yearning he had long learned to set aside around any but a few very close friends sending a tendril of heat through his core. He felt his cheeks warm, and knew they must be going pink in a terrible betrayal by biology and his fair skin. “Is that so?” he murmured.

Jango's grin widened. He (carefully) got up onto his knees, looming up over Obi-Wan. “What do you say, Ob'ika? Stave off the injury-boredom with a little fun?” His touch was gentle, fingertips brushing Obi-Wan's beard as he tilted his face up. Obi-Wan's breath caught. “It's not like I'm all that close to baseline either. Show me yours, I'll show you mine?”

Obi-Wan groaned, gently shoving Jango's chest. “I ought to turn you down just for using such a wretched line.”

Jango's hand covered his, capturing it against the warmth of his chest, caressing it. “But you're not going to.” His grin was absolutely sliding into leer territory.

“Force help me, I'm not going to.” Obi-Wan lifted his face, leaning up for a kiss, which Jango did not hesitate to give him. Jango's lips were warm, and surprisingly soft. He made a rough, hungry noise against Obi-Wan's lips. When Obi-Wan opened up to him in the Force he felt like hungry lust and eager anticipation—like looking forward to a surprise, rather than bracing for disappointment.

Jango's mouth opened against his, tongue teasing a deepening of the kiss. Obi-Wan welcomed it, but Jango flinched back. He was grimacing when Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open, hand pressed to the brace on his ribs. “Maybe not this position,” he said.

“Hmm, we are both somewhat limited at the moment, but I'm sure we can figure something out.” Obi-Wan considered their options. “Suppose you lie on your back, and I'll cuddle against your uninjured side. I should be able to keep my hurt leg from bumping anything. I could grind on your thigh and get my hand down your pants.”

“Yeah, that could work.”

There was no graceful way for two injured men to rearrange themselves on the ratty couch, but they managed it without hurting themselves at least. Jango grabbed a pillow to go under his head and then another for Obi-Wan's knee, which was very thoughtful of him. Soon, Obi-Wan was happily squished between the back of the couch and Jango's solid body, a firm thigh between his legs, and they could kiss as much as they liked without pain.

“So...” Obi-Wan trailed his fingertips down Jango's belly, following the fuzzy trail of hair toward the top hem of his pants. There was an entirely promising bulge waiting there for him. “Anything in particular to know?”

“It's a cock, not too weird,” Jango said. “A firm grip and a steady stroke are all it takes.” He mimed the fairly universal 'wanking' gesture. “Giving a bit of a twist over the ridges when you stroke it feels amazing. But when I finish, I like it when you squeeze at the base, hard. Hard enough a baseline human would definitely be in pain, and umm...” he hesitated slightly, faintly embarrassed. “I do come, uh, heavily.”

“Like, best done in the 'fresher to contain the mess quantities, or just put down a towel?” Obi-Wan asked. One of those was definitely more feasible than the other, at the moment.

“Towel,” Jango said. He glanced toward the 'fresher. “A towel is a good idea, I should have grabbed one—”

Obi-Wan flung a hand out, pulling with the Force. One of the blessings of a space so small was that it was easy to have a towel fly into his hand.

“Convenient.” Jango lay the towel across his belly, sadly covering up some of his bare skin. Obi-Wan slipped his fingertips under the top hem of his loose pants, quirking an eyebrow. “Yeah, come on.” His hips lifted into the touch, eager.

His cock was quite the handful, a bit more tapered at the head than human-standard, with ridges on the underside. The loose foreskin meant there was a smooth glide, velvet skin over iron heat, when Obi-Wan got a grip. Jango groaned, thigh tensing deliciously between Obi-Wan's legs. Obi-Wan rocked his hips in time with his stroking hand. He mouthed at Jango's cheek until he finally turned his head enough their lips could meet in another kiss.

Jango's lust and pleasure were rich in the Force. He moaned into their kiss, body shaking, when Obi-Wan figured out just how he liked a slight twist over the ridges of his cock as he was stroked. His hands were warm, petting Obi-Wan and holding him close.

The pleasure built between them. Jango felt like his was luxuriating in all of it more than chasing his orgasm for much longer than Obi-Wan anticipated. Not that he minded! He tended to take a long while to get running. Enjoying the closeness and touching was exactly what he liked. Eventually, though, Jango began to feel like impatience—hungry and selfish. His cock thickened in Obi-Wan's hand, quite literally swelling in a way that baseline human cocks didn't.

“Close!” Jango gasped, hips rising. His brow was crumpled, teeth bared and gnashing at nothing. “Tighter, Ob'ika, I'm!” He reached for the towel, flipping a bit of it over the head of his cock and grabbing for Obi-Wan's hand on his cock. He squeezed Obi-Wan's hand on the base of his cock much more firmly than he would have dared, even being warned that Jango liked it hard.

It pulsed in Obi-Wan's hand, a thick bulge growing beneath his fingers as white-hot pleasure shot through Jango and he came in long waves with a veritable flood of come.

“Don't let go, don't,” Jango gasped, desperate. “Kriff, yes, so tight!”

“I have you,” Obi-Wan promised, holding Jango's cock in a vice-tight squeeze. “I have you.”

Jango twisted and bucked and kept coming. Enough Obi-wan began to worry the towel wouldn't actually be enough. Eventually he did still, though. He caught Obi-Wan's mouth in a kiss again, a wave of such intense affection rushing through him Obi-Wan gasped.

Jango's eyes were dark, pupils fully dilated. He nuzzled against Obi-Wan's face, all sweet. “I like to linger, but if your hand's cramping I'll be fine now.”

“My dear, I am a swordsman. My grip isn't going to fail. I can hold you as long as you like,” Obi-Wan told him, distinctly smug with the way Jango's emotions went practically gooey at the promise.

“It's so good,” Jango murmured, lipping at Obi-Wan's mouth in half-drunk kisses. “The afterward's the best part. Intimate.”

The thickening of his cock, that bulge just above the base—if that swelled up inside someone, it would lock their bodies together, wouldn't it? And then the affection. Biologically mandated post-coital cuddling and bonding time. The realization rushed through Obi-Wan like fire, and he bit his lip on the sudden desire to blurt out that he wanted it inside him next time. There might never be a next time. And it wouldn't be fair to have Jango promise him something when he was clearly compromised on a potent blend of endorphins and oxytocin.

Obi-Wan rubbed his crotch on Jango's muscular thigh, hungry himself. He was worked up enough, finally, that he thought he might be able to come from grinding alone. Usually it took a bit more than that. With the waves of Jango's enjoyment bolstering his own, Obi-Wan might actually manage it.

“Oh,” Jango breathed, delighted. He moved his thigh against Obi-Wan, intentional. “You get wet when you're turned on.”

Obi-Wan felt his face heat. He hadn't realized he'd gotten wet enough it would be felt through his tights and Jango's pants. “It's not a useable cunt,” he warned, trying to head off any disappointment before Jango got to daydreaming. “I can't be kriffed in it. It doesn't work.”

Jango blinked at him, confused. He shook his head and tapped at Obi-Wan's hand, which was still gripping his now-softening cock. “Let go, now. Let me just—” Jango wiped them both up with the towel, and then folded it around its substantial load of come and set it on the ground. He tugged his pants up and then asked. “When you say it's 'not usable' and 'doesn't work', what do you mean?”

The afterglow of Jango's pleasure was gone, now. Obi-Wan almost wanted to cry. But he had promised that he'd show Jango his in a tit for tat. He didn't want to be braced against Jango's disappointment, but past experience could not be so easily set aside.

“I mean,” Obi-Wan said, “that unless I am in season, I am not big enough to take more than half a finger in the front.” He indicated the second knuckle on his index finger, to show his limit. “Even if we managed to get the head of your cock in, it wouldn't feel good. To either of us.” Obi-Wan had certainly tried it. He'd needed bacta afterward, and then he'd had to spend an hour comforting the friend who felt horrible about having hurt him.

“...and you're in season...” Jango prompted, thoughtful.

“Never.” Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “I've had a hormone blocking implant since I was fifteen. Ugh, it was miserable. Spend six months growing either a cock or a cunt just to spend three weeks unbearably horny, then spend the next six months ungrowing it and growing the opposite and do it all over again. No, thank you!”

“All right, so...” Jango's brow wrinkled. He levered himself up a bit on his elbow to better look down at Obi-Wan. “You can't take a cock, sure, that's fine, but you can get off, right? You liked grinding on me. Does taking a finger feel good? Or a tongue?”

...just like that?

“Ob'ika?” Jango touched his cheek, concerned.

“I'm a bit thrown by the easy acceptance,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Yes, I... I can get off. Both fingers and tongues can be very good for me.”

“Not unusable, just different,” Jango decreed. He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead, gentle. “You need to kriff more Mandos.” Jango pressed his hand to his rib brace as he sat up, then nodded to himself, clearly pleased that it hadn't hurt. “Now, unless you object, I'm getting my mouth between your legs immediately.”

“No objections, my dear,” Obi-Wan breathed. “None whatsoever.”

It wasn't actually immediate, not with both of them injured. Jango put his pillow on the floor to kneel on it, and helped pull Obi-Wan's tights down off his uninjured leg to bare him. When Obi-Wan threw his uninjured leg over Jango's shoulder, opening himself up, Jango rumbled a very pleasing sound, pupils dilating. He licked his lips, practically devouring Obi-Wan with his eyes.

Obi-Wan knew what he looked like, when aroused. His cock was small, folded in on itself, like a swollen knuckle. Below, he bloomed open with flushed pink-red cilia that weeped clear slick as they moved in concerted waves trying to pull anything nearby into the narrow passage that would be a cunt if he let his body grow one.

Obi-Wan could have gotten a hormone implant that set him to one extreme or the other, cock or cunt, and would nearly have passed for baseline-human. It just... didn't feel like him to be either. This was the anatomy he'd grown up with, before he started cycling, and the anatomy he had most of the time between extremes even then. This was him, even if it severely limited his potential partners.

Though... it seemed not quite as severely as he'd thought. Jango fell forward with a moan, burying his face between Obi-Wan's thighs. He delved into Obi-Wan's waiting slick, lapping at him rough and eager. The flexible tip of his tongue wormed into Obi-Wan's entrance, and set to kriffing him with quick, muscular thrusts.

Obi-Wan moaned, hands sinking into his coarse curls to hold his head in place. “Ooh, Force, yes!”

Jango's jaw popped, his mouth was open wide to engulf as much of Obi-Wan as he could get. He mushed his nose against Obi-Wan's cock, rubbing it as he ate him out. Obi-Wan was already so worked up, so turned on, and the sensation on top of Jango's clear and loud pleasure at getting to taste and touch him sent him cascading over the edge of orgasm.

Obi-Wan bucked and moaned his way through an absolutely bone-melting orgasm, clenching around Jango's tongue. Jango sucked his way off his entrance with a lavish kiss that had him crying out, and grinned at him with his mouth reddened and his face absolutely coated in Obi-Wan's slick.

“I'm multi-orgasmic if... if you want to— Jango!” Obi-Wan gasped when Jango immediately dove back in. “Suck my cock?” he begged. “and, and, give me a finger?” He was burning up, inflamed by the skill of Jango's mouth and his eagerness at the act. Jango's finger was thick, harder than his tongue, perfect to clench around as Jango sucked his cock. “Oh stars. Oh, Force. Oh, please!” Obi-Wan all but sobbed out another orgasm.

Jango moaned between his legs, gentling as Obi-Wan collapsed in shivers. He caressed the inside of Obi-Wan's narrow passage, finger slowly turning and rubbing, searching for anything that was particularly sensitive. And he found it, too, the spongey front wall where Obi-Wan knew from experience the texture was a little rougher and firm pressure felt amazing. He stuck to it as Obi-Wan gasped and squirmed on his finger, licking lavishly around his thrusting finger and then squeezing just the tip of his tongue in with his finger. It was so much, too much to bear when Jango wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan's thigh to be able to reach his cock from the upper side—stroking it between two fingers as he licked and finger-kriffed Obi-Wan's hole.

The walls rattled as the third orgasm came crashing through Obi-Wan, his control over his abilities in the Force compromised. Jango felt startled, between his legs, and then unbearably smug.

“Enough,” Obi-Wan begged, patting Jango's arm like tapping out of a spar. “Mercy, mercy. I can't.”

Jango rocked back on his heels. He licked his finger clean then wiped his face on his forearm, grinning. “Definitely works,” he said.

“Oh, I'll say.” Obi-Wan laughed, tugging on Jango's arm. “Enough stroking your ego. Come back up here and cuddle me.”

They managed to get themselves arranged again fairly easily. Jango's ribs didn't seem to be bothering him at all, anymore, and Obi-Wan's leg was definitely feeling better—though how much of that was the bacta and how much of it was the fact he wasn't sure he could feel his legs after such good orgasms remained to be seen.

It felt good to rest against Jango's solid bulk, to have his arms around him, and just float on the closeness. Obi-Wan nestled close, and managed not to say anything revealing. Like wondering aloud how many orgasms they could give him while their bodies were locked together with Jango's cock buried in his ass. He certainly planned to find out, if they were ever in the same place again and healthy enough to make the attempt. If Jango liked that kind of sex.

“So,” he said, aloud. “About these other Mandos I ought to be kriffing. Do you have their comm numbers or—”

Jango growled, rough and dangerous, and claimed Obi-Wan's mouth in a rough kiss that was slippery and tart with his own slick.

.

(I am not currently open for more prompts. Thanks to all who participated!)

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Do you have any thoughts on what Satine and Obi-Wan's lives and/or the galaxy at large would have looked like if she'd survived the events of The Lawless?

Oh man, this premise has an infinite number of answers depending on where you go with it. But I think I can give some general principles.

Like ... for example, Satine survives The Lawless but Order 66 is subverted. Actually, I wrote a fic about that (Tethers of Inconvenience), where Satine pursues an arranged marriage with a senator from Kuat (Giddean Danu, a character in the RotS deleted scenes) who would be able to help her rebuild and protect Mandalore, which she finds difficult to do on her own since she humiliated Palpatine and the Senate in TCW Season 2.

But more generally, if she survives The Lawless, I think Obi-Wan takes her back to Coruscant and she lives with Padme. She begs the Senate and Jedi to assist in dealing with the mess on Mandalore. I think that Bo's able to take the planet back, and she and/or Korkie lead since her brainless, idiot, fake-news-believing people are still convinced that she killed Pre Vizsla with her own hands and caused the downfall of their city.

Then, let's say that Order 66 does happen. You've got two diverging roads: 1) Obi-Wan is able to find her and bring her to Tatooine with him, in which case they get to raise Luke together and have a kind of strangely (im)perfect happily ever after living a quiet life neither one of them had before (wonderfully explored in @mg024's Two New Hopes) ...

Or 2) He can't get to her and has to leave her when he goes into hiding, like in @the-obiwan-for-me's Krennictine AU. This has a similar premise to my Marriage AU but with Orson Krennic. In both our AUs, I think we're of the same mind that Satine never loses her personal idealism, but she becomes much more practically minded. I think the run-in with Maul proves to her that "Even extremists can be reasoned with" is much, much too hopeful. I think she's always prepared to sacrifice her personal happiness for her people if need-be, but there's always that piece of her that's longing for her happy ending.

Imperial-era Satine is fascinating because she's the one who characterized the idealism of the Republic but who was really spared suffering by dying before the rise of the Empire. Personally, I think that Palpatine would take very great joy in trying to smash her like a bug once he has no guardrails, given that she was one of the only people who publicly stood against him during the Clone War. I mean ... we kind of forget that after the Republic and the CIS, the largest political entity at play in the Clone War was the Council of Neutral Systems, led by Satine. She's a symbol of the Republic era and she wouldn't go quietly into the night once the man she's always despised proclaims himself Emperor.

I think Palpatine would immediately try to take over Mandalore (canonically, he did within the first year of his reign because he was still using a clone trooper army). In a SatineLives AU, whether he immediately succeeds would probably rest on whether she's willing to negotiate for her people's freedoms (like Bo did with Gideon in The Mandalorian), but even if she did, Palpatine would probably just renege on any agreement they had.

In general though, I lean more toward her giving up any claim to the throne permanently because she thinks Bo (and a Korkie hardened by both The Lawless and the rise of the Empire) can meet Mandalore's needs more than she can.

And if that's the case ... if she has no Mandalore and no Obi-Wan ... I could see her doing something like creating a relief organization that essentially goes from planet to planet cleaning up the effects of the Empire and then eventually becoming a secret organization focusing on saving and rehabilitating injured rebels. It's her way of maintaining her pacifistic ideals in a world where she no longer has the ability to remain fully neutral.

If anyone has any thoughts on these ideas or others of your own, I'd love to hear them!

[antianakin]

Sith Ahsoka AU where Ezra doesn't come get Ahsoka in the World Between Worlds (or misses her maybe) and so Ahsoka and Anakin fall through the Sith Battlestation. Ahsoka's connection with Mortis and the Daughter combined with the exploding power of the Sith Battlestation end up glitching and backfiring on Anakin when he tries to kill Ahsoka and he dies instead, while Ahsoka lives but only just.

Palpatine arrives on Malachor to pick up Anakin's pieces and put him back together again only to discover he's too late this time. But Ahsoka is lying there on her last breath, broken enough both physically and mentally to succumb to Palpatine's torture and manipulations and powerful enough to be worth the effort. Yes, she'd make a workable replacement for this loss. And of course everyone who knew her thinks she's dead, so they're not going to come looking for her or try to save her until Palpatine's work is done and he's prepared to present his new and improved apprentice, Darth Malis, to the galaxy.

Ahsoka doesn't re-appear until shortly after the Rebels finale, after Kanan's died and Ezra's disappeared, but still before the events of Rogue One. The plans still make it to Leia and everyone on Scarif dies, but this time it's Ahsoka on the Death Star, capturing Leia and waiting when Obi-Wan arrives with Luke and Han.

And Obi-Wan isn't expecting her at all. He'd been able to feel that Anakin died, but certainly had no way of knowing that Ahsoka had even survived Order 66 let alone that she'd been captured by Palpatine and tortured into becoming his new Sith Apprentice in Anakin's place. He wasn't expecting Anakin to be waiting anymore, but the last thing he could've expected was Ahsoka. He's so glad she's alive, but this is the worst way to discover that fact, and it's a little difficult to be calm in the face of this revelation.

Thankfully, Ahsoka's not expecting Obi-Wan, either. Palpatine, knowing how Anakin had obsessed over hunting Obi-Wan down and banking on Ahsoka thinking no one would ever come to save her or care for her again as a way to break her, had kept that tidbit of information from her. So Ahsoka is just as surprised to see Obi-Wan alive as he is to see her, and she's incapable of doing anything to keep her emotions from controlling her anymore. She's still powerful, and faster than Anakin was, but she's still living on life support of some kind and Obi-Wan's got more practice at handling this kind of grief and pain, giving him the upper hand in the battle. So when Luke and Leia show up, Obi-Wan doesn't need to sacrifice himself to keep them safe, he can overpower Ahsoka and run back to the Falcon with the others.

Most everything stays the same, because the Emperor figures out who Luke is and still wants him as an apprentice instead because Ahsoka is broken and Luke is more powerful. Obi-Wan is able to bring Luke and Leia to Yoda years earlier, so they both get trained up together (and they know that they're siblings the whole time). A few more Jedi survivors show up to help the Rebellion while Obi-Wan, Luke, and Leia are on Dagobah: Reva, Quinlan, Cal, Kata Akuna, Ezra (who is miraculously found prior to ROTJ because I want him there, maybe my man was resourceful and got himself back sans Thrawn all on his own).

When they finally make it to Endor, Obi-Wan and Leia stay on the ground to help the Rebellion while the others all go to confront the Sith with Luke. Luke strikes the final blow against the Emperor and the Rebellion takes out the shield around the Death Star, throwing everything up there into chaos. Ahsoka flees and they all have to give chase. Luke and Reva try to offer her a chance to change, to come back with them, to heal. Ahsoka doesn't take it, and the next time the Death Star is hit, she lets herself fall deep into the Death Star's mass.

Quinlan offers to be the one to tell Obi-Wan that Ahsoka didn't make it. Obi-Wan mourns, but he's also already mourned her. He could tell that there was very little of the girl he'd known left in the monster Palpatine had made of her. She'd rejoined the Force now and she was at peace. He wished she could have found healing and known how much she was loved before she died, but he can't begrudge her this choice, especially since the choice to kill Darth Malis brought the reign of the Sith to its end and restored balance in the Force.

[tomicaleto]

For the writing prompts

obikin and 18 or 22 or 45, whichever you like more! 😊

Hi Anon!

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I'LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

18. waking up with amnesia au

this is a direct continuation from this Sith AU, as in, this picks up a couple of weeks later. I strongly recommend reading the linked snippet first, and in general all the little snippets I wrote for this AU before reading this one.

That being said, let's go

The light bothered him enough that Obi-Wan opened his eyes with a frown. He was on a bed, a thin white sheet covering his body. Everything hurt and he groaned as the world slowly shifted into focus, his surroundings filled with bacta tanks and medical beds. A machine beeped close to him on regular intervals, and there was a line connecting his right arm to a serum bag. 

A body shifted, a young Mon Calamari with a holopad who took in the sign of Obi-Wan being awake and checked his vitals before greeting him gently.

“Where am I?” Obi-Wan asked, barely repressing the urge to snap the line out of his arm.  The Mon Calamari muttered as he typed on his pad. “The patient shows signs of disorientation corresponding with a long period of unconsciousness. Keep under observation in case the symptom persists.” 

Finally, he looked up towards Obi-Wan. “You are at the medic bay in the Jedi temple. My master will join us shortly and make sure everything is going well with your recovery.”  “Jedi temple? What happened to me?”  “You got stabbed by a piece of debris that punctured part of your lung and stomach. Lost quite the amount of blood and oxygen levels turned worrisome low. Would have died if they hadn’t brought you here.” 

Just as he finished speaking, a Togruta entered the room and smiled at the Mon Calamari before turning to Obi-Wan. “Now this is a sight I thought I’d never see again. How is our patient doing?” “So far his recovery is going according to plan, Master.”  “Excellent, the Council will appreciate this information. Has he shown signs of aggression?"  “Not so far, mostly confusion.” 

Irritation filled him. It wasn’t enough that he had woken up in an unfamiliar place, being talked about as if he wasn’t there was pissing him off. The Togruta turned towards him and leaned forwards, turning on a small lantern and cheeking his eyes. “Your reflexes seem to be doing great. I’m gonna ask you some questions to help you ease back into the living world. You almost became one with the Force!”

Obi-Wan grunted as an answer.  “Alright. First things first: do you know who you are?” “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi-”  “Haven’t heard that name for years,” interrupted the healer, only confusing him more. “Other names you identify yourself with?” “No.”  The questions continued, getting more annoying and more confusing as well. 

No, Obi-Wan did not know who the main general of the Separatists was. No, he did not know Count Dooku personally. No, he had never met the Jedi Council before. He did not know who Qui-Gon Jinn was. And most importantly, he did not understand why he had ended in the Jedi med bay to be treated after his injury.  The Mon Calamari took notes of everything he answered and exchanged a quiet look with his master once the questions were over. “I will notify the Council immediately.” The Togruta master said. “In the meantime, make sure our patient doesn’t get too overwhelmed with outside stimulus until we can figure out how to fix his memory loss.” 

The Mon Calamari nodded and then hesitated. “Uh, what should I do if Knight Skywalker visits?” The name tickled something in the back of Obi-Wan’s brain, like an unanswered question that escaped him.  “You let him in, of course, and take notes of everything they talk about.”  A couple of hours later, as a healer brought him lunch and a holopad with a novel to keep him entertained, the doors opened and someone walked in. 

At the healer’s sigh, Obi-Wan looked up from the holopad to see the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. The man looked up from where he was glaring at the floor and his expression eased, making Obi-Wan’s heart jump, the machine he was connected to betraying the effects the man was having on him.  He ignored as the Mon Calamari frantically tried to understand what was happening as the man finally reached the bed and sat down near him. “Hi,” he began softly. “It’s nice seeing you awake.”   Obi-Wan did not exactly know who this man was or why he was glad he was awake but he didn’t particularly care, happy to have his lovely eyes fixed on him. 

He did not appreciate the Mon Calamari approaching the man and leaning down to whisper something to him, and he actually frowned when the man’s face went from curiosity to confusion to… grief? He wasn’t quite sure and forgot to ask the moment the man took his hand between his. “Hi, Obi-Wan, you may not remember me right now but I’m Anakin.”  He looked at him with earnest eyes, and the name made something inside Obi-Wan warm with familiarity. Even then, the name did not spark any memory, and he simply smiled politely to Anakin. Something inside him, though, screamed at him that Anakin was important, that he needed to make a good impression. So, he sent him a smouldering look and said: “Hello there.” 

He did not expect Anakin to burst into laughter, startling the Mon Calamari. But his confusion over the reaction didn’t stop Obi-Wan’s heartbeat from accelerating again.

Thank you for sending me this! I hope you enjoyed it!

[fionajames]

HI FIO i had 2 ideas id love if you wrote :] only if you wamt to ofc ahahah

1. Sith Obi-Wan au!!! This can be all evil disaster lineage au, Obi-Wan joins Vader or anything you please i trust you to write something amazing :)

The second is kind of just a vague idea i had, i was wondering how youd imagine a circus au?? Cause the jedi are all acrobatic n stuff. Go wild!

HII KEBIIN

So, first up I have written the Sith idea - with a lil twist - and I will write the acrobatics stuff soon/later.

This is my second piece of four to get published today so hang in for more!!!!!!!!!!!!

Enjoy!

Something Obi-Wan learned early on was that pain was always going to hit him when he least expected it. The first time he felt real, true pain was Qui-Gon’s death.

As he watched from behind the red screen at his Master and the Sith battling, Obi-Wan’s hand gripping his lightsaber tightened, alongside the bad feeling in his stomach. It was knot in his stomach, and growing excruciatingly painful as time went on.

That was when the Sith twisted and his lightsaber went straight through Qui-Gon’s gut, leaving a similar hole in Obi-Wan. He didn’t even remember screaming, just the rage that took over him. A blind, red hot rage that fueled him as he waited impatiently with gritted teeth for the barrier between him and the murderer to move.

There was no time to waste as he sprung at the Sith, his movements unlike himself as he executed each one, gaining on the monster he was battling. At some point during the fight, the Sith’s burning yellow eyes widened in mystified horror as he watched Obi-Wan’s blue eyes unnaturally swim with flickering yellow.

At some point during the fight, the monster Obi-Wan was battling became himself, as he drove himself beyond his breaking point and into the abyss, pushing on all of his boundaries as his rage sliced and slashed at the Sith. 

When he was pushed over, Obi-Wan’s hand barely managed to grasp onto the wall, his red hot rage twisted with desperation as sparks licked at his skin. 

The Force responded to him in such an unnatural way at that moment. It intertwined with him without him having to call it, and begged him to do as it willed instead of the other way around. Obi-Wan let the Force control him for a moment as he threw himself up and grasped the lightsaber, slicing through the Sith without a second’s thought. He watched the red and black torso fall down the reactor shaft in two separate pieces, panting as the yellow in his eyes recoiled and the blue returned. 

Obi-Wan - bent over Qui-Gon’s lifeless body - had never felt so much rage before, if had ever felt rage. It was unfathomable and intoxicating, the taste of power he’d had in that moment was like a drug. He’d let the dark side take over him - something he’d sworn to never let happen - and had killed - a villain but a man nonetheless. 

The next time he let it engulf him was during the First Battle of Geonosis. Afterwards, he remembered very little from the fight, just the darkside that had consumed him.

Obi-Wan had swung his lightsaber so calculatedly that all his fellow Jedi had seen only grace in it, and nothing of the dark behind each slice. He’d cut down numerous droids and a living creature - one trying to kill him but a living creature nonetheless - without thinking, fueled only by the anger that consumed him every time he saw another Jedi’s body fall and hit the unforgiving ground of the desert.

Anakin had never seen his Master so enraged and aggravated as he watched through a pain filled gaze as Obi-Wan battled Dooku. Through the pain Anakin had not seen the yellow in Obi-Wan’s eyes, the blue long gone. 

Dooku - however - had seen it, yet felt that it was not a yellow he would ever stand beside. 

As Obi-Wan fought and fought, his anger from seeing his Padawan injured was like Qui-Gon’s death all over again, and he was emotionlessly fighting with all of his strength.

When the fight was over, the yellow had dispersed again and left all witnesses bemused and bewildered, thinking they must have hallucinated the pure anger. 

The next time Obi-Wan cracked was a battle early on during the War, when he’d lost dozens and dozens - maybe even hundreds - of troopers.

Cody watched in horror as his General emerged from the trench beside him and leapt into the battle, slicing down every battle droid near him. He saw the burning rage the colour of orange-yellow in his General’s eyes and instantly missed the calm blue sea he was so familiar with.

This side of his General was cold and passionate, fierce and determined. He turned the tides of the battle so fast many Clone troopers didn’t understand what was going on. Cody rushed to his side - in an attempt to check on Obi-Wan - only to flinch back at the yellow glare at the droids and the snarl he was met with - although not directed at him. 

The cruel yellow was something Cody grew used to, and he began to slowly and increasingly hate the colour. The only thing it brought him was fear and worry, and it didn’t help that it was the battalion’s colour. 

Cody expected Obi-Wan’s eyes to be cold like you would expect, but instead, they were a burning hot fire. They held such heat they burnt anyone who came near, and there was only so much one could do for burns like these - more emotional and mental than physical. 

It quickly became clear to everyone - including the Jedi and their council - that Obi-Wan had been consumed by the dark side, but he was no Sith. He was still loyal - as he always had been and always would be - to the Jedi, but now, he had new abilities, new strengths. 

He was a dark-side-user amongst light-side-users, a blazing fire in a sea of cool calm.

But he was no Sith.

Hope you enjoyed! Request pls!!!!!!!!!!!

[eriexplosion]

5 6 7 10 for Star Wars violence 👀

OKAY TIME FOR THE VIOLENCE (I don't know how actually violent these opinions are but pretend I am Very Vicious)

5. Worst blorboficiation?

sdfsdifj REGRETTABLY... OBI-WAN.... I love the man but fandom characterizations definitely show some Popular Guy Character Syndrome where it's all about how sad and tormented he is and while I respect that as a lover of tormented men, it is certainly an experience when you're like, reading a CodyWan fic and Cody is comforting Obi-Wan through his tragic past like he's never gone through anything difficult in his life. Also some of Obi-Wan's fun edges are sanded off, he's more generically sassy but considerate of others feelings and kind, etc, and like. He's not UNkind. But this is a man that faked his death and did not tell his emotionally unstable best friend like that was going to do anything but drive Anakin absolutely batshit insane. He watched like ten clones in a row die without a reaction and then the instant a Jedi died they all had to stop for a funeral. He tried to get Luke to kill Vader WITHOUT telling him who he was. He's kind of an idiot and can be kind of an asshole. Let him hurt people's feelings! Let him be socially inept! He is a dipshit not a harmless weep blob!

(This ties in with my desire to see CodyWan fic where they straight up get in a fight but is not ENTIRELY connected to that)

6. Opinion on canon and/or fanon use of the secret child trope? Discuss.

It works for Luke and Leia and I think it should have stayed at that. I'm not a big fan of the Palpatine reveal for Rey but I didn't want her to be a Skywalker either, sometimes you want a main that is Just Some Guy, doesn't need to be a secret child of anyone. In fanon I just REALLY do not like it, partially because it's plugging in a blood relation where it doesn't need to be. The other part is that I have mostly seen it for Obi-Wan and Satine with that Korkie kid and with how utterly repressed those two are at each other I refuse to believe they ever successfully fucked.

7. What is the weakest piece of canon writing?

It feels like cheating to say the sequel trilogy mostly because I never finished it so a thing that I definitely finished and loved but makes no sense - AOC is not the strongest movie but ROTS was like, fully just a series of cool scenes stitched together to approximate a movie. And don't get me wrong, I adore the prequels. But the only one that I think succeeds as a Movie is TPM. ANAKIN'S FALL ESPECIALLY IS NONSENSICAL AS SHIT. Like the underlying motivations are there but they were not pieced into anything resembling a coherent narrative. You have a start point, an end point, and everything in between just kind of jumps around with I think the weakest point being the Tusken Massacre - it's treated more like a sign of Anakin's potential darkness than anything when like. That's a whole village. He killed a whole village and it never comes up again! Lucas apparently didn't consider it that big a deal!

It's to a point where I actually think the massacre can't be addressed from a fully in universe perspective, because there's no actual way to twist it around so that it makes sense for that not to be enough to Make Anakin Fall without breaking the already very loose rules of the universe. Most other Star Wars points I can figure out some kind of justification for how it works in world, but to explain how Anakin wouldn't fall here you just have to kind of confront that Lucas is both not a very good writer and also approached the Tuskens with an incredibly racist viewpoint given that he doesn't appear to see their deaths as fully Counting, unlike the Jedi younglings in ROTS. It's a plot choice that, if treated with the full weight it would narratively deserve, completely unravels the entire rest of the series, the only way to make the storyline of everything else WORK is to take it out or change it so much as to be an entirely different scenario, and I can't think of any other things that fuck it up THAT bad.

10. What’s a ship you've unwillingly come around to?

I think 'unwillingly' is overstating it (but then I rarely DISLIKE a ship, so there's usually not much Unwillingly about it) but I thought Tech/Phee was cute at most until everyone started being Like That about them. Now I want them to kiss and get married onscreen. I hope that she hits that every night. Phee deserves whatever she wants.

Also Anakin/Padme probably counts because I did not actually go into the clone wars watch WANTING to love Anakin but Whoops. WHOOPS. So that meant I got An Affection for the two of them in all their messy stupid as shit glory.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Daemon Au Fic Recs

Daemon aus are fics where the characters have animal daemons a la The Golden Compass.

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

One piece

Like Cats and Dogs by PitViperOfDoom - Rated G

It should be easy to judge a man by the shape of his soul, but Strawhat Luffy spits in the face of logic and predictability.

Merlin

Feather and Fang by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf - Rated T

Everyone knows that magic users have magic dæmons. Creatures of myth and legend. Some appear normal but have hides in unnatural colours. It's a way to pick them out of a crowd, find them, even when they try to hide in plain sight.

Star Wars

The Road Less Traveled By by Triskellion - Rated T

“Padwan, there are Mandalorians in Mos Espa.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He knew what that meant. “What is left before we can leave?” “Collect the boy and the parts. The handmaiden can guide you.” And of course his master signed off before telling him where to meet Padme. “Couldn’t he try being subtle for once?” Seab-hoc asked plaintively from Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Qui-Gon has never been subtle a day in his life,” Obi-Wan countered. Which was why his master’s soul had settled on one of the largest, flashiest forms in the whole karking Order.

Daredevil

In Nomine Diaboli by WerewolvesAreReal - Rated T

Sometimes Matt wonders what it would be like to take his daemon out with him in public. He hasn't been able to do it for twenty years.

Stranger Things

a plain and indestructible thing by phonemicengineer - Rated T

“This is us, huh?” Steve asks her, reaching out to lay a hand between her ears. His face aches, and she has a bit of blood matted in the fur around her left eye; matching wounds. There’s black ichor and gore coated up her muzzle and down her ruff, and when she opens her mouth her teeth are large and wicked looking. “Do you even have to ask?” she mutters, leaning her full weight against him.

Red Touches Black by Sparkle_Fiend - Rated M

"Red touches black, poison lack. Red touches yellow, kill a fellow." A silly rhyme, to help remember the difference between a harmless kingsnake and a deadly coral snake. Wayne taught it to him when he was fourteen, and Calpurnia settled in the form of a scarlet kingsnake. Given the way people recoil when they see his daemon, he's pretty sure no one else in Hawkins has ever heard it before. Or maybe it doesn't matter - maybe Eddie is the one they think is toxic. **** Vecna is defeated, Max is saved, and Eddie's name has been cleared. All should be right in the world of Hawkins, and Eddie's only concern should be his inconvenient crush on Steve Harrington. But there are people who still think Eddie is guilty of murder, and they're not willing to let it go.

Our Flag Means Death

it's what isn't in the name by tciddaemina - Rated M

The first thing they see - apart from Captain Bonnet himself, all silked up and frilly and a sight in his own right - is the cat sitting primly by his ankles. She's a white, well-groomed thing, coat as pale and smooth as snow, with a delicate pink ribbon around her neck and a little golden bell hanging at her throat. And sure, she's a little big, on the large side as house cats go, reaching right up to his knee, and a bit leggy as well but the crew still takes one look at her and feel their estimation of their new captain drop another sharp couple of notches. This, they think incredulously, is the man that proposes to be our fearsome pirate captain? "My name is Captain Stede Bonnet," the new captain says proudly, sweeping an arm out in greeting, looking so pleased and chuffed and ever so slightly nervous to meet them. "And this is Miss Daisy Bonnet, though of course you may all call her captain as well." "Two dubloons on a mutiny by the end of the week." Frenchie murmurs with a sharp bite of mirth. On his shoulder, Beauregard lets out a soft tittering laugh, the songbird's beak clicking. "Not taking that bet." Pete replies snappishly, still glowering sullenly at the captain.

Top Gun

I see parachutes by Amethyste_Blanche - Not Rated

I see parachutes These words spin in Rooster head like a curse. Or Rooster's POV during his fight with Maverick

Guardians of the Galaxy

Less Than Zero by Tyranno - Rated G

In 1988, following his mother's death, a young Peter Quill is abducted from Earth by the Ravagers, a group of space pirates led by Yondu Udonta. They leave his Daemon behind by mistake.

welcome to the human race by smilebackwards - Rated G

Once Peter made it through the seizures and shudders and shakes, his first thought was that he’d been abducted by witches. Dozens of different faces—blue and red and ridged—hovered over him, forcing tasteless food down his throat, and there wasn’t one daemon in sight.

Labyrinth (1986)

Glitter and Gold by speckled_dragon - Rated G

AU where humans have daemons but denizens of the Labyrinth do not.

My Hero Academia

Just Breathe by wolfsrainrules - Rated T

When Izuku turned four, he showed an Inclination towards Healing Class Magic. The strongest seen in decades. Naturally he decides this means he should be a combat medic.

Jurassic World

Connect the Dots by dinosaurs_wowenough (loki_godofmischiefandlies) - Rated M

Everyone has an animal, it's common knowledge. Some cultures call them Familiars, others call them Daemons, some are referred to as Spirit Animals, but one thing is indisputable: they are more valuable to their humans than life itself.

Teen Wolf

The Snake and the Otter by Therapeutic_Steter - Rated T

When Stiles was born, a black snake appeared into his crib on the first full moon and never left.

Claudia, whose soulmate animal was a lion, hadn't even flinched, smiling and cooing at the little snake in welcome. It flicked its tongue at her, beady eyes sparking blue, and let Claudia gently stroke it's head. John, whose soulmate animal was a bear, just shook his head, wondering at what kinds of trouble his son and his soulmate would get in to.

[bochedogmeat]

Circling back around to this today, imagine the GUILT. Obiwan’s regular Catholic guilt is good (and also CRIMINALLY underutilized imo. Like nebulous guilt is all well and good but toss a very explicitly sexually repressed kind of guilt to his already weird sad fucked up emotional martyr salad and you have the saddest, most repressed Jedi in the order. He is SO torn up about everything in his life u just KNOW he takes everything personally. But THAT my friends is a tangent for a different day.) but this adds a new indulgence of the flesh (literally) for him to self-flagellate over.

Not only is he human all too human (hopelessly and endlessly in love with his charge), he ALSO just so happens to have a biological imperative to eat him alive. Maybe it’s something to do with his connection to the force, he tries to reason with himself, would he have more of a craving for midichlorians being Jedi himself? Or maybe its because he has already smelled the boy’s cooked flesh, already had a piece of him severed and all but served to him. Regardless of whatever wicked spirit seems to have possessed him, he makes sure to avoid solo missions with Anakin, doubly so if they will be planetside and risk any chance of getting stranded without his rations.

ALSO this begs a compelling question: does Anakin even know? On one hand, it would make for a fun hidden mutual obsession, Anakin obsessed with his master’s teeth, his hands, the knowledge that his prim, perfect Jedi master was secretly bloodthirsty and maneating, a creature of the flesh, and Obi-wan obsessed with the gnawing animal need to eat his darling boy’s beating heart. Imagine the yearning. It is horrible. It is painful. It is SO them it hurts. Anakin would give anything to Obi-wan if he would only just take it, and Obi-wan wants everything but won’t let himself take it, even if Anakin wants him to.

BUT on the other side, Obi-wan lying to and misleading Anakin about his rations and pills and secret biology for YEARS, right up until he physically can’t anymore. The hurt and confusion from Anakin not knowing why his master can barely stand to be alone in a room, or even a mission, with him since their run-in with Dooku, afraid that he somehow fucked their relationship up past a point of no return. Everything unraveling when they sit on opposite ends of their out-of-commission ship drifting hapless through deep space on a stolen ship, Obi-wan stumbling his way though an explanation staring at Anakin with a look the latter has never, ever seen on his master’s face. Never directed towards him. The pieces finally click together in Anakin’s mind and he is all at once angry, terrified, and unbelievably into this

[cherrybloosomgirl29]

Empress Chapter 2

Songs: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby by CAS and Candy Necklaces by Lana Del Rey

(Padme’s POV)

*I am running across a rocky terrain, running, running, running until I fall down a dark crack in the ground. I scream but my throat is dry and my lips are sealed. I keep falling down, down, down…*

I wake up covered in cold sweat feeling my abdomen ache. I let out a cry as Anakin pulls me into his embrace. I rest my head under his chin as he rubs my back to soothe me.

“My love, I can tell you had another nightmare” he says quietly. “Remember Nothing is gonna hurt while I’m here alright.” I look up at him with tears in my eyes I believe him but I fear of what lengths he would go to keep me safe.

“Ani…” I start hesitantly “we gotta address this.”

“What do you mean my empress, what do we need to address? I have you and you are safe. We can finally use our power to create a safer galaxy together.”

“Ani I gotta know what is going on. What am I going to do now? What about our family?” Of course I have way more questions to ask, but this is all I can get out in my emotional post nightmare state. Anakin looks at me and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear before giving me a soft smile.

“You can do whatever you desire my love. If you wanna stay at home with our babies you can. If you want to work at my side and make our galaxy the perfect place for our little family, you can my love.” He gives me a soft kiss on the forehead before continuing: “all you have to do is the words and I will make it happen my love.”

I know what I want but I don’t think I can say it out loud.

“You seem troubled… I can sense it my love. Just tell what you are thinking. Remember you are free with me my love.” He says softly.

“I want things to be how they were, or maybe how I wanted them to be.” I say softly. I know this is the one thing Anakin doesn’t want to hear. I know this because his face hardens a bit and he can hardly meet my gaze.

“You want to back to when we had to hide? Because the order could not accept my love and care for you?” He says in way making him seem almost hurt.

“Ani… I don’t mean that. I just… I wanted to raise our little ones in Naboo. I wanted to set up a nursery for them in a safe planet where they would be under our care. I wanted you to tell Obi Wan, I wanted you to tell the Order how dedicated you are to creating a better galaxy making it known that I won’t get in the way of that. Ani… I didn’t want this… I wanted peace with you.” A small tear escapes my eyes as I admit this. Anakin caresses my cheek as he finally meets my gaze.

“I understand Padme, but things could’ve ever been that way okay? The order was cold, rigid, and would’ve understood. I refuse any world where I would have to keep you or my children secret from the world. I refused it then and I would a thousand times over. You are my empress you deserve the light of a thousand suns to illuminate your beauty, in no world are you going to be hidden away, you belong at my side.” He said with a passion I have seen in his eyes only a few times in my life. He then takes my hand and intertwines it with mine.

I lay back against his chest allowing him to stroke my hair, if he is right and the circumstances I hoped for aren’t possible I must rethink my plans. “Ani… I want to stay home with our babies, but I ask one thing. I want to advise you I want to rule at your side Anakin, I know politics inside and out. I know the senate, and I know some of them are in a fury over your takeover right now, but I can calm them.” Anakin looks at me and give me a soft smile, his look of approval. If things can’t be the way they were I must make the most of it, with him.

***

(Anakins POV)

I run my hand over her soft curls and feel the happiest I have in a long time knowing my love is safe. With the smartest most brilliant woman in the galaxy by my side I know we can change this place for the better.

“My empress” I whisper quietly as I hold her close to me.

***

Authors Note: Let me know of any ideas you have for this story! I can also write short chapters of them doing cute things together.

[starlight-blackbird]

MEET PALLAS ADAIR

Kate Adair’s life hasn’t exactly been going they way they always hoped it would. At twenty-two, they’re a mostly broke college student trying to earn their degree online, working two jobs just to pay for their tiny apartment, and dealing with the damage their recent coming out as non-binary has done to their relationships with their family. (They’re also trying to pick a new name for themself, because they’ve never liked being called Kate, but that’s kind of taken a backseat to all their other issues lately.)

With basically no social life to speak of - a combination of autism and anxiety not exactly making them a desirable friend - Kate’s favorite pieces of media have become their only comfort, and the most comforting of all has been the animated Clone Wars series set in the Star Wars universe. For as long as they can remember, Kate has loved the whole of Star Wars, but the series has always been a particular favorite, with its fun adventures and captivating relationships, no matter how much the ending always breaks Kate’s heart.

However, no matter how much they love Star Wars and the show, nothing could have ever prepared Kate to one day wake up in the universe of Star Wars during the second season of the series. All of a sudden able to use the Force, and in a unique way that no one from this universe can, Kate wastes no time informing the Jedi Council that they are fully aware of how this war ends, and it doesn’t end well. But they also quickly realize that it’s much too early in the story to tell the Jedi exactly what’s going to happen; they don’t trust the Council not to act too quickly, and there are plenty of things that still need to happen for the plot to get close to a satisfactory ending.

With all this in mind, Kate - who has finally decided on a new name, Pallas, which they think is fitting given the name’s origins - convinces the Council to let them train under Obi-Wan Kenobi, becoming the captain of the 212th clone unit. From there, a plan to change the way the Clone War ends forms in their mind: somehow, they have to prevent the sadder events of the series from coming to fruition, help Anakin Skywalker to realize that the Republic’s Chancellor is leading him down the wrong path, and all the while work to collect evidence said Chancellor so that, when the time comes, they will be able to leave the Council with no doubt that he is a Sith Lord.

However, while Pallas certainly didn’t expect any of these tasks to be simple, the realities of battle and being in a universe at war only serve to make them that much more difficult. As Pallas develops friendships, figures out their own unique way of using the Force, faces off against the villains they’ve been seeing on their screen for years, and even begins to build a deeper relationship with the clone captain they’ve always sort of had a crush on, they quickly come to learn that actually living in this new universe is very different from watching it on a screen, and that changing the course of a story already written might be even harder than they expected.

But that doesn’t mean they’re going to stop trying.

Because Pallas’s life might still not be going the way they’d always hoped. But the Star Wars universe is their home now, and it is a much better home than the universe they’ve left. So they will do whatever it takes, move the earth and the heavens and even the stars themselves, to save it.

Tagging @madetragic, @arrthurpendragon, @chaosgod4life, and @askmarinaandothers!

[growup-thatbeautiful]

the story (i was made for you)

Summary: On the Texas Plains, Cody and Ben meet. And they fall in love.

Tags: Cody/Obi-wan, Cody is a good bro, Cowboy AU, western, no major warnings

Word Count: 4k

~*~

The Texas plains are less quiet at night than people think they are. The insistent rustle of grass in the wind, the faraway howling of some nocturnal animal, the low buzz of insects, all these sounds fill the silence, a symphony of their own. When he first moved here, it was unnerving, how alive things always seemed. He was used to the city noise, the radio-static stoplights, and the constant hum of his brothers talking into the late hours.

Now, though, he’s used to it- he can’t sleep without it. Things are too still when it’s quiet, and the world seems to be passing him by while he stays stuck in the same place. He’ll never get used to the missing chaos of his family, but he figures that’s a part of being homesick.

That’s not something you ever get over, he thinks. No matter where he is, he’ll miss the soft-spoken, hard-truth complaints from Fox and the constant steadiness of Waxer beside him.

He has things to keep him company, though, when Rex isn’t here. First and foremost, he has Sunny, his brown and cream splattered paint, tied to a tree a few feet away. She’s his lone companion, most days, and she’s not too bad company. She can be temperamental and standoffish, but so can he. The fire going out, the wind howling in his ears, the coffee burning. Mundane observations that take the forefront of his mind without his permission.

Cody isn’t sure when Rex is going to be back; the town can be busy at this time of night. Or, at least, as busy as it gets. Usually, Cody wouldn’t mind going into town with Rex, but, like always, Rex seemed to know when Cody needs time to himself.

As the night grows more alive, Cody does too. He’s never been good at going to sleep or staying asleep for that matter.

He can’t see far into the distance, but he hears the sound of Rex approaching.

“Hey, bud,” Cody greets.

“You’re still awake? I thought you would at least be pretending to sleep by now.” Rex swings out of the saddle and his boots crunch on top of the dry soil. “And don’t say that weird shit about the night being alive.”

Cody chides, “Language,” and gets up to help with the unpacking. He doesn’t deny the accusation. “Did you get the-”

“I got everything you asked for, don’t worry. When have I ever let you down?” Cody doesn’t answer the question and focuses on sorting through the various cans of beans, fresh tortillas, and dried meats.

“You forgot chewing gum,” Cody mentions, after he’s done looking through the bag. “You’re going to bite your nails bloody, bud.”

“I didn’t forget, I already have it in my pocket.” Rex’s tone is off-hand as he tosses the gum to Cody. “Take a piece and give it back.”

The pink wrapper flashes in the light of Rex’s lamp. “This is bubblegum,” Cody says stupidly. “You hate bubblegum.”

“Yep.” Again, the off-hand tone. “I got the kind I liked last time. It was your turn.” Rex sets his palate down on the hard ground next to Cody, his green pillow almost brown at this point. He lays down on his back, his hat covering his eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cody protests. “You chew it more than I do.”

“I wanted to,” is all Rex says before he turns on his side and falls asleep. Cody knows he asked for this, knows that his own distance is the reason that Rex is acting the way he is, but it hurts nonetheless.

It’s hypocritical, the way Cody allows these things to hurt him. Rex is the only person he really has left anymore. He can’t let the little things wear him down, not when he has to be a model for Rex, not that he’s been a good role model all this time. But he knows what it means to look up to someone, knows the weight that it should carry on both ends.

He needs to live up to the legacy that Rex has built in his head.

But all anything seems to do out here is curl up and die.

~*~

The altruistic sun burns above him, giving its life for forms that it doesn’t know to exist. The waves of heat that distort the horizon cast a dreamlike state over the plains, brown trees and limitless yellow grass in every direction.

At first, he almost doesn’t see it. Shadows, however uncommon, blend in with the hazy land as if they were painted on with the barest brushstroke. But movement is undeniably present, and Cody knows what to look for. He knows what a person riding up on a horse looks like, and he knows it doesn’t always mean good news.

“Hold up,” he calls to Rex, putting his arm up in case he doesn’t hear. “There’s someone out there.”

“Really?” There’s excitement in Rex’s voice, an uncommon opportunity. Cody hates to be the person to always On the horizon, the man steps off his horse, patting it on the side before stopping to look at Cody. It seems as if he’s psyching himself up before he starts the long walk closer to them. It’s not an easy walk, but Cody figures that he’s trying to appear peaceful. As if anyone can really be peaceful out here.

He gets closer and Cody can make out more details. His reddish-brown hair glints in the sunlight almost like the sunlight itself, and even Cody with his eyesight can see the freckles that dot his nose. And his eyes, oh, his eyes. They’re the color of the ocean, with just as much depth. They’re cunning and smart, with laugh lines and stories to tell. He’s close enough now so that Cody can feel himself start to get nervous. It’s unavoidable, when there are so few people he’s used to seeing.

“Bud, get the horse.” Cody doesn’t look at Rex when he speaks, but he doesn’t need to. There’s no one else he would speak so gently to. No one else to speak to in general, besides the approaching figure.

“I want to stay here with you,” Rex argues, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “You can trust me.”

“I know I can,” Cody sighs. If only it were as easy as trust. “Get the horse. Now.”

“No.” The set of Rex’s shoulders is firm, set against the ever-dying orange sun.

“Do it,” Cody says, with eyes that cut like his voice does. Rex was raised to know when to listen and when to shut up. With a flash of his eyes, he turns on his heel and walks away, kicking up dust. The horses aren’t far away- he can hear them huffing against the dry air from where they're tied to a low wooden fence.

Finally, the man is close enough for his voice to carry. It’s gentler than it should be, in a place like this. “I’m Ben,” the man introduces in a soft, lilting accent. It doesn’t belong here. It belongs to those period dramas Cody’s mom used to watch with him and his brothers when they were sick. He always pretended not to like them, but he misses their inconsequential romance plots and pretty words.

“Who are they?” Cody asks bluntly, pointing to the two figures in the distance. “They’re with you?”

“Those are my kids, Anakin and Ahsoka.” Ben doesn’t wave them forward, but he doesn’t tell them to turn away either. “We’re just passing through, if you don’t mind.”

Cody shrugs. “It’s not my land.” He whistles sharply two notes in succession, signaling for Rex to bring the horses over. If they need to outrun these strangers, Cody’s sure that they’ll be faster. Ben nods and waves Anakin and Ahsoka forward. Warily, they make their way toward them. As they get closer, a sinking feeling settles low in Cody’s stomach. Anakin looks like he’s no more than 17, and Ahsoka looks younger. They’re both bone skinny, wearing clothes that don’t fit correctly.

Ahsoka dons a ratty blue coat that’s belted at the waist, roughly hewn, knife-cut notches visible from her. What seems to be a blue and orange ribbon is interwoven with her thick braids, faded from whatever past glory it faced. Her dark skin is dotted with lighter patches on her cheeks and forehead, and some memory helpfully supplies Vitiligo to Cody.

Anakin doesn’t look much better. His dark blue jean button-up fits better than Ahsoka’s, but it’s definitely seen better days. His jeans have holes in the knees and along the stitches, and his hat looks like it’s being held together by the piece of leather wrapped around it. The hollows of his cheeks are more pronounced than they should be, and his hair is matted with sweat along his neck.

Ahsoka steps down off her horse and sticks out a gloved hand to shake. “I’m Ahsoka, and this is Morai.” She points to her horse, a white mare with big, green eyes. It blinks slowly at him, indifferent to Ahsoka’s introduction.

Without waiting for Cody’s name, Anakin speaks up, staying on his horse. “I’m Anakin. This is Artoo.” Anakin’s horse, a gray quarter horse, shakes its mane and huffs, calming at Anakin’s touch.

Rex approaches Cody surely, not giving away if he’s as on edge as Cody is about the newcomers. He looks at Cody, who gives nothing away. Or, at least, he’s trying to give nothing away. Cody might not have the best poker face, but he knows for a fact that it’s better than these strangers, all brimming with excitement and curiosity. With a roll of his eyes, Rex sticks his hand out for Ben to shake and introduces himself. “I’m Rex, and that’s my brother Cody. He’s not as mean as he looks.”

“He doesn’t look mean,” Ben smiles, squinting against the sun and looking at Cody. “He’s simply cautious, as he should be.”

Cody has the strangest urge to thank Ben. He settles for asking, in the politest tone he can muster, “Are you new around here?”

“I’m not, but Ahsoka and Anakin are. I’ve been showing them the ropes, so to speak. Is it that obvious that we don’t know what we’re doing?” Ben, surprisingly, doesn’t have any trace of embarrassment in his voice, as so many would.

“Not at all,” Cody assures. He doesn’t say anything about how Ahsoka is riding too stiff and Anakin is too far back for such flat terrain. “You look like pros.”

“Really?” Ahsoka beams, her smile wider than the sun. Ben sends an appreciative look at Cody before turning to her and giving her a thumbs up.

“Sure you do, kid,” Rex chimes in. “You’re a real Butch Cassidy.”

“She doesn’t know who that is,” Anakin laughs, flipping Ahsoka off, to Ben’s apparent dismay. “Sorry, Ben.” Anakin doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“I don’t have to know who it is to know they’re a badass,” counters Ahsoka. She turns to Rex with a fierceness behind her gaze that Cody knows from his brothers. He can tell that Ahsoka and Anakin are fighters. They have the strong Fett set in their jaw and the determination in their eyes that Cody doesn’t see reflected in Ben. Mainly, Ben seems kind, but they had to learn it from someone. “Right?”

“Exactly,” Rex agrees. He spares a quick glance at Cody before guiding his horse closer to them. “Where are you on your way to? Most people don’t just wander along these parts.”

Ben starts to answer, but he’s cut off by Anakin’s louder voice. “Ben was going to take us to Mos Eisley.”

“The gambling town?” Cody asks skeptically. He didn’t take the three of them for the type of people to frequent places like Mos Eisley.

“No,” Ben corrects with a smile. “Just outside of there. I know a few people who live out there, and I thought it would be a good getaway for a while.”

Whatever Cody is going to say next is interrupted by the clapping of thunder, loud and rolling. All at once, the atmosphere has changed. It’s charged with wind and the smell before rain.

And electricity. He can feel it, the static creeping along his neck, making his skin stand on edge. Maybe it’s superstition, but he knows that they need to get out of here; this isn’t a thunderstorm that they can sit through underneath a tree. He can feel the air charge up to strike- lightning lighting up the sky.

“What was that?” Ahsoka asks, cocking her head to the side.

“We need to get out of the clear,” Rex explains. “It’s too dangerous to be out here in weather like this.” Cody notices how he doesn’t add that usually, they could outride it. Anakin and Ahsoka don’t seem like they could do that.

“We should find shelter,” Cody agrees. Him and Rex have seen lots of these kinds of storms, but even they know not to underestimate the danger. That’s how you end

“Where do we go?” Ben asks, looking at Cody for answers. It’s not the way his brothers look at him, though. With a raised brow, Ben isn’t asking for Cody to fix everything, he’s asking for an opinion, a solution.

Cody should tell Bell that most of the time in storms like this, it’s easiest to ride them out. Kick everything into high gear and outrun the weather. It’s not the most effective solution, and it definitely doesn’t always work, but it sure does free him. There’s nothing that makes him feel more powerful than leaving things behind him.

But he just doesn’t have the heart to say that and watch Ben’s crestfallen face. “I know a place that isn’t far,” he says; Cody can tell by the way the red clay road leads that they’re close.

Side by side, a party of five, they ride towards the sun and stop miles later at a blue-painted, white-shuttered house. There’s a key underneath the doormat, faded silver and hard to fit into the lock.

It was his grandmother’s house. The white lace doilies on the wall and the obnoxious pink curtains weren’t really his mother’s style. She always hated this house, but Rusty had a strange fascination with it when he was young. It transported him to a time when his parents didn’t exist, where the rivers and grass ran wild, undisturbed and undiscovered.

A layer of dust covers everything, the air thick with memories left untouched for years. He hasn’t been here since his grandmother's funeral, where his mother complained about getting the house in the will and his father was kind enough not to show up.

“What is this place?” Ahsoka asks, running a hand along the crooked oak banister.

“A tomb,” Cody answers, looking at the pictures on the walls. His parents, smiling at their wedding, looking young and free and happy. Him, in a white dress shirt one holiday, grinning with a missing tooth, his grandmother hugging him from behind, grace and beauty in her older age. A family picture of his extended family, looking like a Christmas card in their matching colors. After him, his parents never took any of their kids here. Fox and Cody are the only ones who even know this place exists. No one else got the warm hugs or the hot chocolate; they lived a childhood without any family besides their siblings, not that any of them ever complained that they weren’t enough of them.

The kids race off to explore, happy to have a roof over their heads and promised security for the night. The various rooms with their antique decorations and faded patterns supply ample imaginative space for them.

Cody wanders his way to the kitchen, Ben following behind him quietly. It’s just like the rest of the house, dust particles dancing in the air, mason jars full of preserves lining the shelves. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Cody goes to the sink and turns on. For a moment, the water runs a rusty brown color, but it clears out after a while. The taste of that clear, spring water fills Cody’s senses as he remembers all the times that his grandmother filled him a glass from the same faucet after he played out in the yard for hours.

“Is it hard being back here?” Ben asks kindly, standing beside him at the sink. Cody doesn’t have to ask him how he knows that this place is important to him. In fact, he’s almost positive that Ben has a similar place like this somewhere out there, gathering dust. “ I can imagine the memories it must bring back.”

“It’s too different to remind me of when she was alive,” Cody deflects. The truth, that he can’t stop looking around corners for a weathered face and long braids, hurts too much to admit. “Being at my parent’s house would be harder.” He’s not sure why he offers that piece of information; he hardly ever talks about home, especially about missing home.

“I’m sure. It must have been hard to leave your family.” Ben’s consoling voice digs deep into Cody, some part of him that remains unscratched by his regrets.

“Sometimes the need to escape outweighs the need to stay,” Cody responds, a bite in his tone. “I left because I had to.”

“Of course,” Ben agrees with a knowing smile. “Home can only stay such for so long. You couldn’t possibly know how well I know that.” Cody doesn’t have anything to say in response to that, so he keeps washing the dirt from underneath his fingernails and staring out the window. It’s easier to look out at the landscape than Ben’s eyes, although he would rather stare into the lovely blue of eyes.

Ben breaks the silence, bumping his shoulder with Cody’s before offering his own confession.“I found Anakin behind metal jail cell bars a year ago, wasting away with every call for lights out. I saw something of myself in him, and my mentor implored me to reach out, to be a provider for a messed up kid.” Anakin, Cody thinks, has more behind him than most people do. The set in his jaw, the reflected haunted look in his eye, they’re too old for his young frame.

“Your mentor sounds like a good person,” Cody responds, trying to get more information but not be rude about it. It’s hard to stop himself, though, when all he wants to do is know more about Ben.

There’s conflict on Ben’s face, but it settles with a sad smile. “He was a kind man, and he cared deeply for me, that I don’t doubt. But he was frustrating at times, which I still feel bad about saying since he passed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cody says. “How long ago did he pass?” Cody just wants to know more, at this point. Ben’s voice, his past, Cody wants it all in the most unfair way possible.

“5 years ago. It feels longer, though. I mean, as soon as it happened I was the one taking care of Anakin, and I had absolutely no idea how to. That dulled the pain for a long time.” Hesitantly, Ben continues, looking down at his own hands. “I don’t think that I was the best person for Anakin then. It’s hard to be sure that I am now.”

Cody, despite his best efforts, lets out a huff and looks at Ben. “I may not be the best judge of parents, but I see the way that Anakin looks up to you. From what I can tell, you’re his sun and moon.”

“Oh,” Ben grins, trying to hide his pleased look. “That’s nothing to how Rex follows you. I didn’t have any siblings, but I know that you’re quite the older brother for him.”

“I try,” Cody responds. He turns the water off and dries his hands on the old towel still hanging next to the soap. “I couldn’t leave him at home.”

“That bad?” Ben asks, but there’s no judgment in his tone. Cody wonders if there ever is. Probably not, based on the way Ben seems to know what it’s like to not have a home you want to go back to.

“Yeah, that bad.” Cody loves his family. His mother’s strong voice and his father’s strength that held them up for so long are ingrained inside of him stronger than anything else. But there was only so long he could stay there, in that tiny house filled with people who always had so many expectations. He was taught at a young age how to survive, how to ride a horse fast and hard if he was ever in trouble, how to tie knots that won’t break, and how to avoid having emotions get in the way. Those lessons make up who he is today, but they’re also the reason he can’t seem to hold on to anything.

Rex doesn’t count. He’s always been by Cody’s side, even in the hardest times. It’s why he could never have left Rex like he left the rest of them.

There’s a lull in the conversation where Cody sneaks glances at Ben from the corner of his eyes, trying to be at least a little conspicuous.

Cody’s not one to be poetic. He prefers the quiet, easy moments with his family instead, where he doesn’t have to say anything and everyone is on the same page. But Ben makes him want to try to be romantic, to try to say something special that encompasses all of the wonderful, overwhelming things about Ben.

Cody also can’t help but notice the cut of Ben’s jaw, the grey of his eyes, the reddish-gold in his hair, they’re all softer in this light. Ben looks younger now than he does under the harsh sunshine, the lines of his face relaxed, the squint of his eyes less pronounced. But his smile stays the same, warm and inviting.

The storm outside flashes and rolls, the wind whipping against the shutters and whistling through the cracks in the wood, but it’s safe here with Ben. The ghosts have died down to a whisper and Cody, for a moment, lets himself relax into the peace.

He takes a deep breath and hears the kids laughing upstairs somewhere. It’s the first time he’s heard Rex laugh like that in a long time. He’s missed that sound.

“We can take you to Mos Eisley,” Cody says after a while. He keeps his voice quiet, trying to emulate Ben’s tone as best he can. He doesn’t know why or how, but he wants to let Ben see that he can be more than a rough hand or a decent older brother.

“Really?” Ben asks, tilting his head to the side. It doesn’t look like he actually believes Cody, which Cody can’t blame him for. It came out of nowhere.

Cody tries to backtrack and make it make sense, although he’s not sure how much he can salvage at this point. “I’ve been meaning to take Rex that way for a while, and with the number of kids we have with us, it might be best to stay together for a while. Not to say that you can’t take care of-”

“Cody,” Ben interrupts, grinning. If Cody was going to try and say anything more, that stops him in his tracks. Ben should smile more, Cody thinks. It suits him much more than the vaguely worried expression that he frequents. “If you really mean that-”

“I do,” Cody assures him, reaching out to clasp Ben’s shoulder. It’s awkward and it lasts too long, but Ben doesn’t seem to mind.

“Then I would be thrilled to accompany you. I know Ahsoka and Anakin would love to talk to someone else besides me, and it would be nice to be in the company of someone so generous.” Cody’s never considered himself a generous person, but if Ben says he is then maybe it’s true.

His courage briefly ignited, Cody holds out his hand for Ben to take as he asks another question, meeting Ben’s eyes with his own. “Would you then also care to join me for dinner? I can see what we can find here. The house should still have a standing table somewhere.”

Ben’s smile grows, meeting his eyes and sending butterflies flying through Cody’s fingertips. “I would love to.”

[kenobster]

And here is an excerpt from a oneshot of mine from a WIP series I'm working on called.... Vader's Uterus 😅

Quinlan takes one look at Obi-Wan Kenobi and notes all of the signs: the rings under his dim eyes, the brittle smile beneath his beard, the droop of his shoulders, and the way his hands are pale and shaking. It's the way he always used to look after a campaign during the war—a campaign that stole his nights, even after ending. Quinlan tucks one of his silver-streaked strands behind his ear. "You," he says, "need rest."  Obi-Wan's eyes flutter shut and he leans forward, trusting Quinlan to balance his weight. And Quinlan does.  "I know," Obi-Wan whispers, "but he needs me. I'm the only one who can reach him." Quinlan slots Obi-Wan into his arms, and they fit like two matching puzzle pieces abandoned in an attic, dusty and worn, but forever shaped to each other's shapes. Obi-Wan's hair is even thinner and duller in the dark, absent of its copper-red, but no less soft beneath Quinlan's chin. They rock into the embrace. It's a lulling tide they learned the rhythm to when they were Padawans.  As a Knight, Quinlan had wanted to tan the hide of Obi-Wan's little brat more times than he can count. Numerous times he'd reminded Obi-Wan that he needn't always be gentle—or rather that he needn't always be perfect. Perfect Padawan, perfect Knight, and perfect Master of a young and struggling boy. Obi-Wan lamented every scraped knee, every prideful bruise, and every sniffled I-hate-you from his unexpected charge. Perhaps the stakes are higher now, but the reminder will always be the same. "At some point, you're gonna have to let him stand on his own," Quinlan says, just as he used to back then. "How can I?” Obi-Wan huffs. “He's not a harmless little boy anymore. The last time I left him alone for a day, he…" The sentence doesn't need finishing. The maw of the dark side has feasted on the galaxy, and its shadows are present even here. But even shadows rely on the light to survive, so Quinlan runs his hand up Obi-Wan's spine and cradles his head, and the touch makes Obi-Wan shiver against his chest.  "If he's going to leave, he'll leave," Quinlan says. "If he's going to stay, he'll stay. You can't force this. And you can't blame yourself either. He's a threat, yeah, but he's also a man. And if he's going to stand, he'll need to do it without you holding his hand." Obi-Wan's arms tighten around Quinlan's torso as if he's afraid to let go, afraid to let the boy-turned-monster-turned-wound choose whether to fester or settle. But Obi-Wan is a Jedi—the best Quinlan's ever known—so he does.

[amadwinter]

WIP Wednesday

wait fuck I just remembered i do have something! I was trying to write some PWP and failed spectacularly. Here's a little piece of something that currently has zero smut at all

TW: incest (not yet but that's where it's leading), mpreg mentions, mommywan

Obi-Wan’s son is beautiful. And he’s not just saying that because Anakin is his son. He has a mop of blond hair as bright as a star, and a smile just as brilliant. His chubby cheeks still fit perfectly in the palms of Obi-Wan’s hands, and eyes a shade of blue-green-grey that Obi-Wan can never quite decide whether they look like a storm, the sea, or some far-off nebula that no artist could ever capture the depth of.

More even than in appearance, Anakin is beautiful in nature and in spirit. He is kind, and would never hurt a soul. Not the bugs in their garden, nor the poor creatures their resident tooka cat drags in with a half a foot already in the grave until Anakin nurses them back to health. He says hello to every person they meet on their trips into the city, and knows nothing of the danger that lurks nearly everywhere in the galaxy. That is the benefit to growing up on their remote homestead on a backwater planet like Stewjon rather than a crowded place like Coruscant.

His son is beautiful and kind, and has lived a very peaceful life in the twelve years since the unusual circumstances of his birth.

But there’s something in his eyes, something dark and wild and restless. Something that had no place lurking in the eyes of an innocent little boy. He dismisses it time and time again as nothing more than a trick of the light or a figment of his imagination, yet still it returns. When Obi-Wan tends to the vegetables and stops to wipe his brow clear of sweat, he’ll find his son staring at him with large, unblinking eyes. When Obi-Wan leaves the room for a moment to fetch a pot or a brush or the datapad from his bedside table, Anakin will follow, never once letting Obi-Wan leave his sight.

The attention doesn’t unnerve him. There’s only so much to do in the middle of nowhere with a spotty connection to the HoloNet and no other children his age within a day’s walk. And his son could never do anything to truly upset him. But whatever it is that hides behind Anakin’s eyes scares Obi-Wan senselessly.

~

“Mama!” Anakin bellows out, disturbing the quiet of the early afternoon.

Obi-Wan promptly ignores him. He’d sent the boy out to tend to their growing nerf herd, an onerous task that was likely to have him coming back covered in mud and who knew what else. It’s not a punishment for Anakin, who will happily strip down outside the barn and wash himself with a hose, but if he’s calling for help now, it just means he wants attention.

He always wants attention. But Obi-Wan is busy trying to fix up the broken-down speeder he haggled for several seasons back. He can’t afford a working one, not with several hungry mouths to feed, but with spare parts hard to come by and his mechanical knowledge subpar at best, it might take another season or two before he can finally make use of it and save himself the entire day it takes to walk into town.

And he won’t be fixing anything if he attends to every one of Anakin’s whims.