#obi is an evil tease

[luveline]

hi! i hope you’re doing well! could i please request a little something about hotch coming home from a case to non bau!reader and jack watching star wars, just bonding and being cute. he wants to hug you both so bad cause he missed you and loves you but he doesn’t want to interrupt your moment

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You drop your head back into the cushions to avoid getting whacked in the chin with Jack’s forehead. “Woah,” you say, laughing as a wave of buttery yellow popcorn kernels drop onto the floor. “Good thing we have hardwood.” 

“Why?”

You grab a handful of popcorn to eat from the bowl. “‘Cos all I’ve done today is make a huge mess.” 

Hotch smiles from the doorway. It’s dark in the house, and the music blaring from the television has occluded his arrival. You’ve no idea he’s watching you now, and you don’t act much differently than if his presence was announced. In fact, he’d say that sometimes you’re so focused on not overstepping your place in Jack's life that you restrain yourself. 

Butter and comfort alike has loosened the reins. You cuddle Jack to your side, the two of you laying across the long sofa with a faux rabbit fur throw wrapped around your two bodies, his head nestled under your chin. Your arm is around his tummy, belting him to you while blue light flashes over your faces. Lightsabers paint your eyes, their zinging and humming near painful in his bad ear. 

“Who’s side are we on again?” you tease. It’s subtle, but Hotch knows you’re joking. 

“Oh my gosh,” Jack says, “you forgot again? That one,” —he points at the screen— “that’s Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

“And we’re team Obi Wan?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Of course,” you echo, clearly finding him funny. “But the other one is more handsome, don’t you think?” 

“Am I handsome?” 

“Jack, you are the most handsome.” You stroke his hair back and encourage him to meet your eyes. “You’re so, so handsome, babe, you’re beautiful, and so smart, and so awesome. You’d wipe the floor with Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

Jack manages a reproach through his bashful smile, “I wouldn’t fight him, he’s the good guy. I would fight him.”

“Hmm.” You grab some popcorn from the bowl in front of Jack and eat a few pieces, then offer it to Jack. “I wouldn’t fight him. He’s too pretty.” 

“He’s evil.” 

“He doesn’t look evil.” 

Jack laughs and turns to you completely. “You’re funny. People don’t look evil, they just are sometimes.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just confused because all the good people in my life are beautiful.” You hug him behind his shoulders, looking at him with all the love in the world. “You’re a great example. You’re handsome, so how am I supposed to know you might be evil?” 

“You have to be careful,” Jack says sincerely. 

“Baby, I am. I promise I am.” Your eyes squint closed with your gentle smile, your noses almost touching. “I’m just kidding with you. I love having jokes with you.” 

“I love having jokes with you.” Jack gives you a quick hug, arms tight behind your head and his face nuzzling your collar. “Thanks.” 

“Thanks! Oh, you’re welcome, you don’t have to say thanks!”

“Well…” Jack pulls away, shrugging as you manoeuvre him bodily into a more comfortable position beside you. “I just think you should fight Anakin because he’s not kind, even if you think he’s handsome.” He says handsome with all the intonation of a boy discovering cooties for the first time. 

You shrug, eat another handful of popcorn, and seemingly see the light. “Alright, I’d fight him. I suppose I already have your dad, right? I don’t need any more handsome men in my life. Two is enough.” 

“Yeah,” Hotch says, flicking on the light, “I’d say so.” 

Jack jumps, upending another wave of popcorn onto the floor. You grab the bowl, and Jack has enough wits about him to hop over the spilled kernels rather than crush them as he presents himself to Hotch for hugging. 

“Hi!” Jack says. 

He’s getting longer. It takes Hotch more effort than it ever used to to pick him up and pat his back. “Hi, buddy. Nice jammies, those are new ones. Is Y/N giving you gifts again?” 

“She always gives me gifts.” 

“I’m buying your love,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glare of the big light. 

“I love it,” Jack says. 

Hotch puts him back down on the ground with a kiss. “You should. Did you have a good day? Sorry I was working, I missed our Saturday.” 

“Dad, it’s okay, you always work. We went to the store and we got candy, and now we’re watching Star Wars and you’re back, so it’s okay.” Jack beams and puts his hands behind his back. “Will you watch it too?” 

“Sure, buddy, I just have to wash up. Did you have dinner?” 

“Y/N made me lasagna from scratch, even the pasta,” Jack says. 

He sounds deeply, sincerely loved. His pride at having you put time and care into the meal is evident, and Hotch knows that he and Jack are incredibly lucky to have you and to have Jack be able to experience it. Something as nondescript as dinner can make all the difference. 

You sit on the couch still, a touch bashful. “It didn’t take long.” 

“Was it delicious?” Hotch asks Jack. 

Jack nods hard enough to hurt his neck, head bobbing up and down. “The best!” 

“Well, she deserves a good thank you, huh? For taking such good care of you today?” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “What should we do for her, in return? Did you have dessert?” 

“No,” Jack whispers back. 

Alright, then that’s what they’ll do. You treat Jack like he’s a found treasure, and you love Hotch as easily as breathing. Hotch takes Jack’s smaller hand in his and gives you a look that promises the world’s most squeezing hug after they’ve procured dessert. “Can you pause the movie, honey?” he asks you. “We’ll be right back.” 

You shake your head at him, but your smile isn’t easy to hide. “Your dinner’s under the grill,” you say. 

He adores you more, somehow. “Thank you.” 

[gffa]

Final verdict on Padawan's Pride? Feel free to spoil as I'm really curious about your thoughts on this!

I braced myself before listening (knowing how much anti jedi stuff bleeds into anything star wars these days...) but I'm about an hour in and surprisingly (tentatively) enjoying it! There have been a few moments that genuinely made me laugh out loud! Like Anakin straight up going "What would *you* know about intimidation?" to poor Obi-Wan sfghdjdkdlkl & Obi-Wan insisting to Yoda that they both deserve to be punished for Anakin sneaking off even after the council basically lets them off the hook and Anakin furiously shaking his head at him to shut!! up!!! & that mini Vader tease when Anakin's getting ready for the race!!

I'm enjoying Obi-Wan's characterization in this a lot so far, and I don't want to punt Anakin off a cliff like I usually do, which is nice.

Obi-Wan still grieving for Qui-Gon and spending his nights staying up to investigate his death got me right in the feels :( Him over thinking every single thing he does with Anakin while Anakin's thinking he's basically emotionless,,, but then when Obi-Wan's trying to awkwardly apologise/connect with him later and being vulnerable, Anakin is completely uncomfortable & internally going OBI-WAN??? HAS?? FEELINGS??? ABORT!! ABORT!!! DO NOT WANT!!!

I can't give a final verdict yet--I got about an hour and a half into it, realized, okay, no, there's just too much I wanted to quote and clip out for liveblogging and Jedi Citations, so I started over and am converting to text as I go, so now I'm back up to about an hour in.

And so far I love this book! Yeah, there's a couple of moments that made me wary, like I didn't know where this was going, but honestly I think the book is doing a really, really good job of presenting the characters as having the space to actually be characters.

What I mean is, for example, Anakin saying that the Jedi Temple is a prison and he hates it--Obi-Wan's response cuts through that, (Oh, well, perhaps we should take a trip to see the younglings with the laser swords, a thing prisons are famous for.) but not at the expense of Anakin's understandable frustration. He's a bored kid who craves excitement and the rush of adventure, which is understandable! It's something he's trying to work on, he's not evil for it, it's totally reasonable and understandable, just as it's totally reasonable and understandable for Obi-Wan to point out the flaw in that statement.

But what really made me love the book is when that comment comes up later and Obi-Wan makes a joke about it, and Anakin grumbles, "I wondered when you were going to throw that in my face." and Obi-Wan smiles and says he did, too. They were bantering about it! They made a joke about it! They found it kinda funny! This is what's delightful about the book, that the feelings they both went through earlier are genuine, but they're not Direly Serious in this moment in time.

They're allowed breathing room to not be mouthpieces for a meta essay, but instead characters in a story going through things.

It's the same for Anakin being all ABORT!! ABORT!!! ABORT!!!! when Obi-Wan is having feelings at him, it's the same when Obi-Wan insists that, no, they should be punished for Anakin's mischief (when the Jedi Council basically said, okay, what we're going to do is send you on a mission, instead of any kind of punishment for either of them), it's the same when Anakin misses his mom and Tatooine.

The moments are allowed genuine emotional weight, I have such affection and heart-wrenching feelings for both Obi-Wan and Anakin here, but it's characters being given space to be characters with their own personal motivations and reasons, to have conflict between them, but both doing their best to reach out to the other, and you can see the foundations being laid for their future incredible friendship.

I'm also utterly delighted by just how many times these two are psychically connected, like they are CONSTANTLY sensing each other--Anakin sensing Obi-Wan scratching at his incoming beard is HILARIOUS, no wonder Anakin hates Obi-Wan's beard, I'd hate it, too, if it was in my mind making me itchy!

But also that they know each other, they don't have to even be looking at each other to feel what the other feels, because that's what a Force bond is--knowing someone so well that they're connected to your soul, even when you're cranky af at them.

I still have three hours of the book left to go but I've enjoyed so much already and I apologize in advance to those who are exhausted by the two hundred screenshots I'm going to be yelling about. :D

[marvelstars]

Anakin and the Force Lore

There´s a strong belief in fandom which takes for granted that Anakin was some violence inclined jock who only cared for lightsaber training without caring or getting deep into the lore of Jedi beliefs but I belive this take is wrong because canon doesn´t support this.

EP I Anakin asks Qui-Gon what a midiclorian is, how the force works, he asks Yoda what it means to be afraid and it´s interested in knowing what a chosen one is supposed to be.

In the Obi-Wan and Anakin comics he explains to Obi-Wan he sees the Jedi and the Sith as two parts or clans of the force because of their mutual origin and that they have the same problem of comunication as the people the were trying to help get along, "the open and the close" who had been fighting the same war for so many centuries that they didn´t remember why they were fighting in the first place but there was a lot of hurt for them to stop.

This may sound naive but makes sense for the jedi the sith are dead people walking with no hope of getting back to life but what the story shows us in the end is that there´s a possibility even for sith to get back if they chose to do so. The Sith are shown in some cases like Maul or Vader and even Sidious as the result of generational trauma and grooming that do evil but even them can come back.

We see Anakin talking with Padme about Jedi philosophy on EP II and actually give his own take about compassion being unconditional love which is his way of mixing his Mother guidance with Jedi beliefs.

He teaches Ahsoka the meaning of Yoda sayings and how to complement their Jedi formation with the natural worry for their men and fellow Jedi in a war. Searching to help the most people they could.

When he married Padme he knew he had to leave the Jedi Order after the war was done because they didn´t allow marriage and he wasn´t going to ask them to change this rule for his marriage and he truly wanted a life with Padme, be her husband and built a family with her.

In ROTS he wasn´t interested in the master and council post, he told Palpatine the Jedi were tired of his reforms but Palpatine imposed it on him and the Council.

What he didn´t like was the way the Council rejected him once again, showing that no matter what he did in the war for the Order or the Republic, they didn´t trust him. He tells Padmé "The Jedi Council doesn´t trust me" which is a call back to the time he was 9 and was rejected, not "The Jedi Council didnt make me a Master" his only interest in becoming a Master was getting access to the Jedi library to see if there was something there to help save Padmé.

Imo fandom listens too much to Obi-Wan´s expressions about Anakin only "thinking with his lightsaber" Obi-Wan loves Anakin but he also teased him a lot and sometimes he was also a jerk to him, Anakin was a person who honestly got into the lore of Jedi knownledge to learn their ways and understand their pov´s and even as Vader he didn´t believe the Jedi Order beliefs were wrong, he believes they betrayed their own beliefs but this doesn´t mean he doesn´t accept at least to himself, that he betrayed them.

As Vader he went so deep into the lore of the Sith he could travel in time and learned to use elemental forces as well as the link between life and death. He learned the relationship between master and apprentice and actually told Palpatine he didn´t see the need to keep the rule of Bane if that meant he had to kill him. He also developed a closer relationship with the force because he needed it to live and breathe.

No matter the side of the pendulum, Anakin simply wasn´t some brute who cared about knowing how to fight and nothing more, that´s a bad read on his character, he was very intellectually involved in matters that excited him or he felt he had a responsibility to learn.

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 23: The Betrayal: Mitsuhide forces Katsu to make a difficult decision.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

When I came downstairs the following morning, it was in time to see two long haired men huddled over a map. The real Kyubei was back – but Mitushide was still wearing the dark wig.

"Are the two of you going to switch back?" I asked, after making sure that Sho wasn’t around to overhear. “Or are you going to mysteriously discover your not-evil twin?”

"We have no intention of switching. Would you be disappointed if we did?” He peered closely at me, but I'd already set my face to a Sasuke-esque neutral. "Studied blankness only confirms you're trying to hide something, Kaya. However to satisfy your curiosity, my vassal is only here to move some items and watch over some precious items for me."

Kyubei turned and gave me a quick smile, before rolling up the scroll and tucking it into his kimono. After bowing to both of us, he said to Mitsuhide, “all will be as you have directed, Lord Mitsuhide.” Then he whisked himself out the door.

“A truly obedient vassal is such a rare find.” Mitsuhide gave me a teasing smile as I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes at him.  Then he took a moment to cast a critical eye over my outfit – while I was now obediently attired in one of the pastel kimonos, I'd lost a little weight when I was dealing with the concussion. It did not fit as well as it could. Still, I knew Sho had done her best, adding an extra fold before she tied the obi. To his credit, Mitsuhide didn’t comment. He simply poked at my hairsticks to make sure the complicated style was securely pinned up. With a slight smile, he flicked the dangling bellflowers, which in turn tickled the top of my ear. "Meanwhile, it's high time we paid a visit to Shojumaru."

Oh? Were things finally happening? "Better not let Sho hear you say that. She'll want to come with us. Or do you think she will be necessary?" She might actually make a nice distraction if we needed one, should the plan include sneaking around. Although if something dangerous was planned, I wouldn’t want her to get caught in a crossfire.

"Sho has just received a note from her mother, telling her that she's urgently needed at home." That Mitsuhide. He thinks of everything.

Indeed, just as the words left his mouth, there was a shriek from upstairs, then a thunder of footsteps as Sho dashed down the steps. “My apologies, Master Kyubei, Miss Kaya, but I need to go home.” Mitsuhide waved her away, and she bobbed a quick bow and hurried out of the townhouse.

It probably wasn't worth questioning how Mitsuhide had managed to forge her mother’s handwriting.  Maybe Sho hadn't looked that closely at it? Whatever the case, we were soon on our way to Shojumaru's warehouse, without the added distraction of a lovestruck teenager.

As we left the machiya, I noticed a large hulking man leaning against the building across the street. He was dressed as a servant, but none of the servants I am familiar with have time to loiter like that. Indeed, as Mitsuhide and I walked down the street the man pushed away from the building and fell in step behind us.

“We’re being followed.” It was probably not necessary to point that out. I couldn’t imagine that Mitsuhide wasn’t aware of the man.

“Yes. I would be surprised if we weren’t being followed.” Mitsuhide had a rather grim set to his shoulders, and I noticed that not only had he reverted to wearing sword, he also had the priest’s wheellock pistol tucked inside his sash. "Should I have brought my sword?" Although I had my knife strapped to my ankle, if there was going to be a battle, I was clearly under armed. “Or my bow?”

"Good gracious no, where could you hide them?" When I blatantly stared at his own arsenal, he added, "I'm not planning to shoot Shojumaru."

I took note of the word ‘planning.’ He didn’t say that he wouldn’t shoot Shojumaru – only that it wasn’t Plan A. I presumed he would be perfectly willing to shoot the man if things went south.

"What will I be doing while you’re not shooting Shojumaru? Dressed like this I am unlikely to get away with sneaking into his office, if he even has one." Last night, his refusal to tell me his plans had been annoying, but not unexpected. Today that had crossed the border to frustrating.

"You are simply to stay by my side," He patted my arm. "Don't despair, my bloodthirsty friend. There's sure to be some action before this all ends."

"If I haven't mentioned before, I really hate surprises." I tried to infuse that with as much authority as I ever had with him (which wasn't all that much).

That was received with his customary unconcern. "Indeed. Pity. I’ve found that no matter how much you plan, life always provides a surprise."

Fine. I guess he just expects me to smile and look pretty.

Mitsuhide must have had a spy on the warehouse, for he seemed aware that Shojumaru would be alone amongst a pile of long crates. As usual, being in this warehouse made my lungs tighten, and I clutched Mitsuhide's arm. He lightly placed his hand in the small of my back and gave me a reassuring pat.

"Master Kyubei. This is an unexpected pleasure." Shojumaru's smile seemed more forced than usual. "And Miss Kaya. I hope you are feeling better? I would like to personally thank you for saving my young employee."

Before I could respond to that, Mitsuhide broke in. "An unexpected pleasure? Is it? I imagine that we are indeed unexpected since I managed to dispatch the man you had watching my home. But I highly doubt you find it a pleasure."

Since when? Has he already forgotten the man who followed us all the way here? No. I had more faith in Mitsuhide than that. Which suggested that the man who followed us was one of Mitsuhide’s employees. Ok. I guess he does have a back-up plan.

"Watching your house? I don’t understand what you mean.” Shojumaru managed a self-deprecating shrug.

"Don't you?" Mitsuhide's voice was quiet, low. Slow. I don't know how Shojumaru felt, but my entire body went cold, and he hadn’t even directed that comment at me. Mitsuhide reached over and banged his hand on one of the crates. There was a slight metallic clink inside. "Nanban made muskets, I presume."

"What if they are? It's not illegal to import them." And in truth Shojumaru did appear mystified. Was it possible that he had yet to learn Mitsuhide's identity? Or was he just prolonging things?

"Indeed, you are correct in that. In truth, I have no real interest in these particular weapons, though I am curious to know where they are bound to. My concern regards a shipment that was diverted several weeks ago." If I hadn’t been watching Shojumaru very closely, I would have missed it, but his jaw stiffened slightly. Mitsuhide continued speaking in a calm conversational tone. The two of them might have been chatting over a couple beers at a bar. "The guns were intended for Oda Nobunaga if that refreshes your memory, at least prior to you brokering a trade between de Sousa and a daimyo by the name of Kanamori Iekane.”

"Heh." For one moment that mask slipped to reveal a gleeful grin, before Shojumaru spread his hands wide in an affect of innocence. "Did de Sousa tell you that? Even if it were the truth, what of it? The product goes to whomever wishes to pay the highest price. It's simply business."

If one of these two breaks out a “leave the gun take the cannoli,” I'm out of here.

Mitsuhide continued his casual affect, not even indicating that he was prepared to that this to the mattresses. "Were that the only thing that was diverted, I would be inclined to agree. But according to rumor, two people important to Oda Nobunaga were additionally diverted to parts unknown, and a man could become very curious in your exports, and perhaps your imports as well. I'm wondering if you had as much hand in their disappearance as you did in the muskets?"

"I'm a simple merchant. I don't deal in human cargo." Shojumaru kicked lightly at a box, which in turn let out a non-human clink that pulled on my memory. "Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. Did Nobunaga send you?"

"Perhaps my interest was simply to relocate another person. Or to make someone disappear." Mitsuhide jerked me closer to him, and ran his hand along my body, and even though I knew it was part of the act, I had to force myself not to squirm away. "I purchased this one on the ships, but she's beginning to bore me. She was only a poor substitute for a princess who spurned my suit. It has been told to me that you might help me procure this other woman. I can pay well for any trouble it causes you."

Would Shojumaru take him up on it? Did procuring the mystical Princess include making me disappear? If so, I hoped that Mitsuhide had a plan to extract me again from wherever Shojumaru sent me.

"I still ain’t interested." The tone was dismissive, but his hands were clenched.

"My my. It seems you have some scruples after all, Motorari." Mitsuhide said it so casually, that I almost missed it. He’d made no inflection on the name, no emphasis to indicate that we'd discovered his identity.

"Simply not worth the risk, especially if your woman is a princess. Unless she is-" He broke off, apparently it suddenly hit him as to which name Mitsuhide had used. His eyebrows lowered and he squinted. "What did you call me?"

"I had not thought you deaf." Mituhide paused, and I got the sense that he was in some way stalling, for instead of revealing his identity, he continued, "I called you by your name. Mouri Motonari. Proclaiming yourself dead only works if no one alive knows your true identity."

"Heh heh. I thought I'd paid em all off." Shojumaru’s entire posture changed, from the obsequious merchant to the menacing pirate in less than the time it took him to finish speaking. "Knew I should've found a more permanent solution."

Like Mitsuhide, his ability to inhabit a character was pretty amazing. When he dropped the Shojumaru disguise, his posture changed, and he seemed… bigger all of a sudden. He raked his hand through his hair, disturbing the styled neatness, revealing a couple of banded braids tight to his scalp. Even still attired in his merchant's clothing, he looked like rough, dangerous … capable of anything. "Your name ain't Kyubei.”

Mitsuhide slightly inclined his head. "I have used it often enough. It will do for now."

With a scowl Motonari looked at Mitsuhide for a long moment. "Yer wearing a wig. Akechi Mitsuhide, or one of his vassals."

Was ‘Kaya’ supposed to have known who she was sleeping with? Thanks for giving me no directions, boss. But… it would be better to have Motonari think that she was just a pawn, rather than a weapon in case Mitsuhide needed an extra hand. I made sure to look startled at the accusation and tried to edge away.

"If you say so. I'm authorized by the Oda to negotiate for the return of Hideyoshi and Mai." Again, he patted his sword, which was fine for him, but I really would like to be armed with more than a dagger and a lockpick/hairpin.

At that, Motonari let out a long laugh. "I ain't open for negotiation. Maybe they're already dead."

I was still standing close enough to Mitsuhide to feel the jump of his pulse at that. But his voice was very steady when he responded. "I would be surprised if that were the case. They're more valuable as hostages. The God of Deceit might be ruthless, but he is not wasteful."

"Hostages. Or bait." Motonari let out a whistle, and half a dozen sailors appeared from the shadows in the back. "I imagine that holding both his right and left hand would be enough motivation for Nobunaga to come in person, and no matter how many ships he brings with him, I’d bet on the Mouri navy against the Oda’s ships in a coastal battle.”

“I suspect that would be a bet you’d lose, however I also suspect you are not one to debate hypotheticals." Completely nonchalant (or pretending to be so) Mitsuhide, turned to me and raked an annoyed look from my head to my feet. "Stop whimpering Kaya. This is none of your concern."

I hadn’t been whimpering, but on cue, I let out a scared little peep. Probably this was Mitsuhide’s way to signal Motonari that I had no part in planning this. Or would be useless as a bargaining chip.

Motorari's attention briefly flicked to me, and my cringing posture was only fifty percent acting. Dude was scary because he didn’t appear to be predictable. But whether or not he intended to use me against Mitsuhide, I will never know.

The door to the warehouse slid open and a third party arrived.

"Master Shojumaru." Hiko stood uncertainty in the entry, clutching a message in his hand. "Did you send for me?" He looked around at the rest of us, and trotted closer. “What’s going on?”

"What? No-" Motonari whipped back to face Mitsuhide.

"I sent for you.” Mitsuhide brought the priest’s pistol up and pointed it at Hiko. "Hiko, your master is quite fond of you. Perhaps he even sees a reflection of himself in you. Though you are a rather nice child, as children go, my friends take precedence."

Motonari waved his men back.

"Negotiations are open." Mitsuhide flicked a quick look at Motonari. "The life of one boy. Or the return of Hideyoshi and Mai."

Holy shit, Mitsuhide.

He was bluffing. He had to be.

"I'm not bluffing," Mitsuhide added in a conversational tone. "You will tell me where you're keeping them, or you will be cleaning this boy's blood of the floor of your warehouse." He pointed his weapon at Hiko. "You should also know that if I am Mitsuhide, my reputation as a marksman is not exaggerated."

I wanted to believe he was bluffing, but I knew how much Nobunaga’s goals meant to him, how much his friends meant to him-

…how much Mai meant to him.

And as a chill swept through my body, I remembered his words from last night’s lesson in Shogi.

"That is why you lost. You were so certain you could not win, that your strategy was solely to limit loss. Had you played to win, you might have managed it… Sometimes only a daring risk is the key to victory."

No. He would indeed be willing to kill a child, one he had no relationship with, in order to win.

"You can't." I didn’t realize I wanted to stop him until the words were out of my mouth. "He's a little boy."

Mitsuhide's only answer was to prime the pistol.

He would. Oh God. He would.

I can’t be part of this.

Breaking away from Mitsuhide's side, I threw myself on top of Hiko. If Mitsuhide wanted to kill Hiko, he would have to kill me first.

But it didn’t matter. My motion had already been enough of a distraction. By the time I looked back, Motonari and Mitsuhide were grappling for the gun. In the chaos, Motonari’s sailors rushed into the scrum.

I didn’t want to watch.

But I had done this, I couldn’t not watch.

Mitsuhide might have been able to take care of Motonari had the man been on his own. But given the addition of a dozen sailors, he was outnumbered. In moments, he was overpowered, two men holding onto him, while a third landed a punch to his jaw. Motonari made a gesture and the third man stepped back. Motonari picked up the priest’s gun, and aimed it at Mitsuhide.

When Mitsuhide lifted his head to speak, it was to me. "Somehow I knew it would be you who betrayed me, Kaya."

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @lyds323 @selenacosmic @tele86 @akitsuneswife

[spindleys]

This post contains spoils for TF1 so watch it before reading this post if you haven't already.

What Sunbow and Marvel Sentinel Prime were:

There's not much to say about Sunbow and Marvel's Sentinel Primes as they're mostly only present to be Optimus's predecessor but due to Hot Rod being intentionally similar to Luke Skywalker in Sunbow we can infer Optimus to be Obi Wan and Sentinel another jedi but he's given far too little characterization to be Yoda who more befits Alpha Trion in any case.

What Dreamwave Sentinel Prime was:

Flash forward to Sentinel's appearances in Dreamwave's Transformers comics and the ultimate guide in 2003-2004 with some more characterization and while still not much it's just enough along with these appearances postdating TPM to allow me to comfortably slot Dreamwave Sentinel as the Qui-Gon Jinn to Optimus' Obi Wan Kenobi and Rodimus' Luke Skywalker.

What TFA Sentinel Prime was:

In an about face the next Sentinel after Dreamwave was a douchebag who's authoritarian policies and xenophobia towards all organic living beings gave a bad name to an already somewhat more checkered than usual Autobot faction.

What Sentinel Zeta Prime was:

Aligned and High Moon's Sentinels are almost as similar to 1 another as Sunbow and Marvel's as like them they share a continuity family despite being from different continuities

Both are ultimately defined by being a well-intentioned but checkered predecessor/mentor/father to Orion Pax/Optimus before he fully became Optimus Prime.

What DOTM Sentinel Prime was:

Briefly teased in ROTF (2009) but not appearing until DOTM (2011) this is the Sentinel that decisively altered the character as the douchebag behavior of TFA was exaggerated to the point of making Sentinel a Pure Evil Villain as bad as The Fallen and worse than the Near Pure Evil Bayverse Megatron; a Youtube comment called Rassilon the Sentinel Prime of Doctor Who which is most feasibly referring to this Sentinel.

Played quite well by the late Leonard Nimoy Sentinel carried DOTM as a Love To Hate Pure Evil Villain netting it a personal score of 5.6/10.

What IDW 2019 Sentinel Prime was:

IDW 2019's Sentinel is both written by a novelist and appears more often than he did in his previous novel appearance, Exodus (2010) the result being a fully fleshed out version of Aligned and High Moon's Sentinels as a checkered but ultimately good mentor/father to Orion Pax/Optimus Prime.

What TF1 Sentinel was:

Despite TF1 and DOTM being set in different continuities TF1 Sentinel's in spirit much like Young Xehanort: the set up to a payoff played by Leonard Nimoy expect unlike Xehanort neither TF1 nor DOTM's Sentinels are tragic Magnificent Bastards but rather Love To Hate Pure Evil Villains.

TF1 Sentinel took all the best qualities of DOTM Sentinel, ran with them, and had them in a movie which was at worst boring netting TF1 a personal score of 5.8-6.8/10

Credit to @ultraericthered for the format as despite my complete disagreement with him on many things it'd feel wrong to not give credit to him for inspiring the format of this post

P.S. Infinitus is such a poorly written strawman at least IMO that i've 0 desire to talk about him.

[nokaru]

UmiTorou headcanons cause yes it is like that

Umihebi never fundimentally changes, she just calms down in a sense. Perhaps even becomes nicer to people around her, in the slightest way possible.

Torou is the Sun that Umihebi orbits in this relationship

not a true love relationship but a codependency that forms slowly veryyy slowly overtime

Torou always wanted a rich suger mommy

Umihebi definitely thinks Torou is older than she actually is

I imagine there are two possible outcomes of their relationship -> Torou becomes a pirate and possibly a first mate down the line, "happily" living with Umihebi on her ship and terrorizing however many seas there are in AnS universe. OR -> Umihebi goes into hiding on land and starts traveling with Torou, doing odd jobs, possibly living my their cottagecore/forest lesbian dream

Umihebi's love language is gift giving. As a very material person who's a big fan of jewelry and trinkets she always gifts Torou various earrings from her pirate loots. Very expensive kind mind you.

In contrast Torou's love language(s) are physical touch and words of affirmation, which VERY frustrates Umihebi especially in public

Torou keeps Obi very much updated about her spicy relationship via letters, which for safety reasons (both his and the girls) Obi rarely reads and burns them. He would rather see no evil but he supports whatever makes Torou happy.

Torou messes with Umihebi on the daily, teasing, pulling pranks etc. and Umihebi just lets her even though it pisses her off. Torou is lucky she's cute and all that sappy shit.

Their relationship remains pretty open cause Torou is very free spirited and Umihebi can't be bothered most of the time, though if she must Umihebi prefers seeing Torou with other women rather than with men.

Torou is initially drawn to Umihebi cause she's a big shot captain and has very scary reputation and actual skills to show (unlike some other "important" people in the underground scene)

It's anyone's guess why Umihebi likes Torou. it's for her charming personality and bad bitch behavior

[rainintheevening]

Highlights from Labyrinth of Evil

So I'm not finished reading Star Wars: Labyrinth of Evil by James Luceno, but I've pretty much read all the Obi-Wan and Anakin scenes and... I love it all. It's so good and so painful. The understatement is always glorious. The war between Obi-Wan as Anakin’s guiding light and Palpatine as his guiding darkness is painful. And then you get these lovely moments of Obi-Ani best-friendom (which are also painful in their sweetness with the awful knowledge of what comes next, because this book leads directly into ROTS).

Consider:

We get drugged Obi-Wan...

They keep a running tally of how many times they've saved each other...

A classic Obi-Wan moment...

They have this thing of comparing the awfulness of the places they've been...

(^This reminds me of a moment in a fanfic by the amazing Ibelin when Yoda, Mace, Obi-Wan, and Anakin are supposed to be discussing a plan. Anakin and Obi-Wan are teasing each other and Yoda snaps at them to 'get serious'. But Mace just sighs because he knows that's an important part of how they work together.)

Even their enemies know how close they are...

Not to mention Sidious...

*screaming* (Because this is Palpatine of course, and he's acknowledging the battle between him and Obi-Wan over Anakin.)

All this has me enough in the feels, but then we have Obi-Wan watching Anakin fly...

And THIS SCENE...

*more screaming* (Anakin's internal struggle spilling out into a place where Obi-Wan can see it. Him calling Obi-Wan his 'best friend' and asking him for help. Obi-Wan's emotional and physical reaction to Anakin's admission of pain. Anakin is his 'closest friend'. And the INTERRUPTION. The awful question of what could have been said or done in that moment, when Anakin's guard came down.)

But then there's the last chapter which I have read so many times I'm unwittingly beginning to memorize it...

Read it again. And again. And cry.

The camaraderie. The admissions they slip in between the jokes. The unspoken expectation that they'll have time to do this again and again, to keep on saving each other, and fighting with each other, and walking with each other. The terrible knowledge that when it came down to his worst moment Anakin DIDN'T call for Obi-Wan's help, and Obi-Wan COULDN'T come speeding to his rescue, though you know beyond a shadow of a doubt he would have.

And those words: "Flying abreast, all but sharing a wing..." Like that VISUAL. You know that's how starfighters would say, "They walked away, hand in hand..." You know that, right?

Side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. As they should be.

*dies*

[siderealdei]

The new chapter was awesome! Poor Jango I-want-to-be-the-sole-child-of-my-buir Fett and Myles at-least-I-can-tease-Jango-while-chasing-a-feral-ad'ika for putting up with Obi-Wan how-did-I-become-the-favourite-of-two-Mand'alore-in-less-than-a-year-with-my-sithly-luck-while-running-away-from-two-main-factions-of-the-galaxy Kenobi.

I'm really curious about where in the sith's hell Qui-Gon is and if Tarre can haunt him. Like poke him every time while he's floating in the Living Force, or strangle him with his own hair. Or just stand at a corner, glare him, and comment about how his most used argument the Will of the Qui-Gon Force sounds like bantasith. He really did more evil than a fallen did without even falling. Sith and the Dark side should take notes.

Thank you!

And yes, you have accurately summed up the root of Jango's issue with Obi-Wan becoming his sibling. He just wants to not have siblings, thanks.

Qui-Gon is doing what he canonically does during this time period of Jedi Apprentice: he stayed near Tahl's sick bed while she recovered and now he's searching for Xanatos (again). He's not doing a good job of it right now, but that's what he's up to. Alas, Tarre is tied to his kyber crystal and therefore cannot go haunt him, just as he cannot go to any other Jedi right now, which is the main reason he's not steering Obi-Wan towards any place or person in particular - he doesn't know enough to help with that because of how limited his movement range is.

[strawberry-medic]

Kakashi may think he was quick enough with closing the door but the Iryō-nin was quicker in ensuring she caught a glimpse of him despite her sensei’s rather ungraceful flailing arms before the scene was hidden from her. Kami-sama this day just somehow kept getting better. Another of her evil-er smirks made an appearance - this mission was giving her enough blackmail material to have her teammates do exactly as she wished for the rest of their lives really. Of course Obito saw the smirk - where his whimpering was an indication of anything and she turned her attention to him instead, forcing her face to offer a friendly smile instead. The Uchiha clearly did not buy it though. So unfair. 

Once more her attention turned to what was happening behind the closed doors now. Rin couldn't help but stifle a laugh behind her hand as she listened to the muffled protests emanating from the bathroom. The sound of Kakashi's disgruntled voice, coupled with Minato sensei’s valiant attempt at tying the intricate obi, painted a picture so absurd that it bordered on the surreal. “Ne Obito-kun, you wanna bet on how long it takes sensei to figure out he can indeed not tie an darari obi and asks for my help?” The pitiful glare (for once the Uchiha was seemingly choosing to stand in solidarity with his male team mates) directed her way as a result only made her giggling have a comeback. The result was her carefully dabbing away at the corner of her eyes to ensure the resulting tears from the hilarity of the situation did not ruin her makeup. She had no intention of being prodded by the Okaa-san’s nasty stick like cattle. Her teammates' reaction to it had taught her that it would not at all be a pleasant experience. Heck, Kakashi had not reacted when being stabbed with a kunai by an enemy nin yet a prod from that innocent looking stick had him flinching. 

Her attention momentarily moved away from the hilarious situation Team Minato had found themselves in and back to the brew before her as the fragrant aroma of the Hōjicha thickened, filling the room, letting her know it was near done. The calming scent, mingling with the soft strains of a shamisen playing somewhere in the Okiya allowed her a moment to take a deep breath and center herself again. The traditional setting seemed worlds away from the battlefield they had become all too familiar with in recent years. Her team mates had decided to assume she was enjoying being here. How typical of them. What they failed to understand was she was relishing having a mission where the only thing at stake was their reputation, as Kakashi dramatically put it, rather than their lives. It was a refreshing change, albeit a hilariously awkward one.

Taking a moment to appreciate the aesthetics of the Okiya, Rin's eyes wandered over the delicate silk kimonos hanging in the room, their vibrant colors and intricate patterns a testament to the craftsmanship of the artisans. The gentle glow of paper lanterns cast a warm ambiance, while the soft rustle of silk and the faint scent of incense added to the serene atmosphere. Not ideal in anyway but war had perhaps made her appreciate this aesthetic far more than she would have a few years prior.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Kakashi’s embarrassed protests, prompting a mischievous twinkle in Rin's eyes. Flake sensei’s grumbling soon joined in and under her breath she started the countdown “Five…four…three…two…” and she hadn’t even gotten to one when the door opened and her sensei’s (it was hard to call him that currently even in her thoughts) decorated blonde head poked out. 

Oh how the mighty had fallen. Shoulders shook with mirth, as she sent a gloating glance in Obito’s direction before schooling her expression into one of absolute calm. Amusement aside - she was a professional konoichi after all. One that hopefully had a lot of time in the future to tease her team mates. Once the mission was complete - through her endless guidance and patience of course. “Coming sensei!” 

Obliging and chirpy as always.

With more grace than all three men on her team combined currently, Rin approached the door, forcing down the laughter bubbling just beneath the surface. Kakashi was sure to run away if she let her composure crumble but their current mortified and helpless expression were really testing her control. So as she moved closer, nothing but eagerness to help reflected on her face. If only her words had been just as helpful. Or were they? "Come on, Kakashi-kun. We can't keep the Okaa-san waiting. She might start poking you with her stick if you take any longer!"

She spoke softly, taking the obi from her sensei’s twitching fingers, needing a moment to smooth the almost crumbled fabric. Okaa-san was not going to be happy about that. Flake sensei was definitely going to get one more poke of the stick if she found out who the culprit was. 

The next few moments were spent fixing the Obi (if it was tighter than it was meant to be, who would blame her?) and patting her teammate on the shoulder, and offering to be as supportive as she could be. “You look as pretty as Minato sensei. I’d call this a job well done.” She even managed to keep her face straight when sensei squaked. Squaked. 

Oh this mission was definitely bringing out the worst in her. 

@konohagakurekakashi, @minaa-munch, @swirleysarefun.

Flake Okiya 🌀

[rebelscoundrel]

Apologies

Obi-wan feels like he made a mistake and wants to make it up to you.

Obi-wan Kenobi x Senator!Reader

Warnings: nsfw, a culmination of my desire to be all sorts of intimately intertwined with everyone’s favorite Jedi

Masterlist

It was the gown, he thinks — the hue of your royal attire complemented your eyes when they narrowed at him this morning after his first teasing remark. He couldn’t resist provoking you to see that glare again.

Unfortunately, that provocation spilled over into the small meeting between you, him and his padawan, the Chancellor, and a few other senators from the Financial District. You rebutted one of Obi-wan’s suggestions and he retorted briskly, saving the smirk for only you to see. Afterwards he caught you outside of the Chancellor’s chambers in what devolved into a little spat. There were only a handful of senators around to hear it, so you were reluctant to call it a public fight. More of a little back-and-forth between two passionate parties where the indignant smiles never left your faces.

Nevertheless, now you’re busy solving the root of the problem behind closed doors in the privacy of your suite.

“You are infuriating, Master Kenobi,” you hiss as his lips travel along your neck, beard prickling just so.

“And you, Senator, are as gorgeous as always.”

His arms are cemented around you, hands delicately twisting in the back of your dress — it’s even prettier up close, with an iridescent sheen to rival the sparkle in your eyes even if your lids have fluttered shut — and then he starts moving. You grip the lapels of his tunic for support and smile into a gasp as he nips at the crook of your neck. You know exactly where he’s heading and walk backwards expertly in step.

The vanity along the far wall, pastel blue and inlaid with designs in codoan copper, is a favorite of yours. The view beyond the mirror overlooks a perfect Coruscant sunrise and many a morning you’re able to glance in the reflection to see Obi-wan’s grinning afterglow. 

Your hips hit the vanity and his close in, pressing a friction to your core that makes it hard to concentrate. But Obi-wan never falters, helping to lift you onto the vanity and finally prying his attentions away from your neck.

You greedily grab his jaw for a kiss, smothering the words forming on his lips. He repeats them.

“I’m sorry.”

You hum in disapproval. “Obi-wan —”

“I shouldn’t have made you lose your composure in front of the other senators. I need to apologize for that.”

The desire to provoke you hadn’t ceased, apparently. You’d gotten better about rising to combat his every jab, but this was one you weren’t going to ignore. And he knew it, even if your scoff hadn’t given you away.

“I certainly did not lose my composure, so there are no apologies in order.”

“Oh, but there are.” It’s the most remorseless thing he’s said all day, the lilt in his voice driving a wave of heat through your chest.

A kiss is gifted to your mouth as his hands cascade down your dress, guiding the hem the rest of the way up your hips. His fingers, warm and practiced, graze your newly bare thighs to bring you accustomed to the touch of his skin. With a steadying hand on your waist and a liplock as an anchor, he brings a thumb through your slick folds and up to your clit.

You whine as he winds around the bundle of nerves, working you into a fervor. You’re defenseless against his knowledge of what makes you tick, especially when he pulls his hand away and begins sinking to his knees.

The protest dies in your throat when you glance down to see where he’s poised, breath fanning over your core and making you squirm. 

He nearly dies, too, already believing he’s in heaven — the sight of you gracefully settled on the vanity, chest heaving and mouth upturned and anticipation hovering in your gaze — well, it’s enough to give a man a run for his sanity.

He delves in. His wicked tongue works its magic on your clit before his lips join in, pressing and sucking and making you shake. Your hand eagerly knots in his blond hair and he chuckles. The vibrations send you careening to the edge; the tipping point comes in the form of a particularly good twist of his tongue.

Your jaw drops in a strangled cry and Obi-wan watches, mesmerized. His thumb is there circling your clit to spur you through the high as he slowly rises to his feet. Your lips are greeted with a kiss in the wake of the bliss. 

But you’re not done.

The length in his pants is aching against your thigh and you grasp it, gently working a groan from his throat at the ministrations. You give his chest a quick shove and he takes the hint, freeing himself of his pants as you sit up straighter and toss your hair over one shoulder. The predatory look in your eyes threatened to devour him whole.

“I hadn’t realized how terribly sorry you were for your actions, Master Kenobi...” you muse.

He removes his belt for good measure and cocks a brow. “And I can only pray to stay in your good graces, Senator.”

He’s back on you in a flash, catching your laugh with a kiss as he eases your leg around his hip. The first thrust blinds him, his face falling into the crook of your neck and you clutch his shoulders in turn. The ensuing rhythm builds on your lingering waves of pleasure and you rut against him, finding the perfect angle and whispering words of encouragement.

The peak rushes in quicker this time and you arch into Obi-wan to feel him ever closer. With a grunt he comes and you’re a second behind, coming undone on him and his stuttering hips. He holds your cheek as you descend together, brushing the corner of your smile.

After a final kiss and ensuring that you’re steady enough to stay on the vanity, he heads for the refresher for a washcloth.

“Apology accepted,” you breathlessly call to his retreating form.

[honestlywtfisgoingon]

When You Weren’t Looking — pt 10/?

PROFESSOR!OBI-WAN KENOBI x READER

PART 9

description: obi-wan takes you on your first official date <3

warnings: language, just fluff :,)

a/n: ok idk what the FUCK this is and why it took me so long, like it’s not even that great ok but here it is and it’s my first song fic hehehe. also im pretty sure y’all can guess who i’m talking abt at the very end…

words: 2,433

"Professor Kenobi,"

"Yes, my—"Obi-Wan quickly cleared his throat, eyes darting around to see if any other students were lingering after class that were close enough to have heard his near slip-up, "y/n?"

"I just wanted to say that I thought your lecture was very exciting today," it wasn't just an excuse to come over to his desk and flirt; you actually meant it.

"Ah, thank you very much. If you want, there are a couple of books in my office you can borrow on the subject," he looked around one more time. When he found that the lecture hall was now completely void of anyone else but the two of you, he was able to let his guard down, his shoulders visibly relaxing and his eyes softening, his admiration for you now able to clearly shine through his irises. He continued, voice less hushed this time, "But if you're not just making up excuses to come up here… " he teased.

"Are you calling me a liar?" you raised a brow, a smirk playing on your lips.

"I would never," he leaned in ever so slightly, naturally drawn to you. "and since you aren't a liar, and you truly are interested, there are some movies based on the book. If you wanted to watch them together…"

"ooh, yes! that sounds fun," you straightened up in excitement. Obi-Wan matched your energy, getting a high every time he made you giddy or happy, the highest accomplishment he could ever achieve, in his opinion.

"I'd say tonight, but there's someplace I was already thinking of taking you,"

"Really?"

"Really,"

"An actual…"

"Yes, a—" he cleared his throat, "y/n l/n, I would like to take you on a date. I apologize. I think it's been long overdue. Would you allow me?"

You tapped your chin, pretending to debate your answer before giving your real one, "yes!" he came around to you and placed his hands on your arms, running them up and down before kissing you. It was quick and sweet, as all your out-of-office interactions were. The idea of being able to even look at each other for longer than a second outside of those four walls had you giddy. "Can I know where we're going?"

"Absolutely not," he tapped your nose before gathering his briefcase and other things.

somewhere where I don't have to hide from everyone that you're mine

And so here you were, scanning your floor, trying to find a single outfit you didn't hate right now. Every piece of clothing you own had been ripped from your closet and added to the spread of fabric covering every inch of carpet in your room.

Obi, you're cute, but am i dressing for dinner or night swimming dammit.

The plethora of clothes beneath seemed almost offended. Eventually, you decided that, whatever it was, you were gonna play up everything you had with or without clothes. Once you pulled on an outfit you'd worn before, one that skimmed your hips just right and offered just enough skin to tease.

wow, i'm evil.

Your loth cat, Artoo, watched the rest of your rather hectic process of picking out shoes, jewelry, everything. You felt an uncalled-for amount of judgment coming from the animal, so you shooed him away. Even his wordless reaction made you freak out even more. The only thing that calmed your anxiety in the slightest was when you opened the door to be met by a suddenly speechless Obi-Wan.

It seemed that your outfit worked well, as he swallowed thickly at seeing you. It wasn't just your outfit, though; no, it was something else. After all, he had seen you in this skirt and these shoes before, he'd been under the skirt for fucks sake, and as much as you'd like it to be, it definitely wasn't the overpriced exfoliator and body oil you used. Your body looked like a dream, but the look in his eyes when he saw only your face said something you couldn't decipher, and neither could he.

He had finally found the muse, the answer to all the poetry he had written in his journal, and yet he couldn't find a single word in those pages to describe the real thing.

"Obi," You waved a hand in front of his face.

"Sorry. You're just the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, my dear one,"

"You don't have to say say that," you blushed.

"No, if I'm taking you out, the one condition is you have to accept the compliment,"

"Whatever," just rolled your eyes with a smile until he tilted your chin up with his hand to kiss you sweetly.

"Ah, I've never met anyone so sweet," he said with playful sarcasm. Your conversation continued into the car, a perfect blend of teasing and talking that was so natural between you two. While you wouldn't mind talking about everything and nothing for hours, Obi paused to tell you to close your eyes. He said it a little too urgently to where you clapped your hand over your face with a slap and a little screech, genuinely alarmed by his sudden request.

"Oh, uh, shit, darling, not that hard," he sounded concerned, but you knew he was smiling without even having to look.

"You can just yell directions out like that!" you huffed, "but I did listen pretty well,"

"You always do, y/n," If the lowered tone of his voice wasn't enough, the hand now placed on your thigh gave away his double-meaning. "and I have another one for you," he spoke as you felt the car come to a halt and the sudden silence of the engine turning off. "keep your hands over your eyes,"

"Wow, Obi, this is kinky," you smirked. You knew that wasn't what was going on, but you couldn't help but explore the idea of being blindfolded with him in other ways.

"We can discuss that later," he helped you step out, holding your elbow to steady you when you wobbled out, still blind. Much to your relief, he gave you permission to open your eyes as soon as you were upright beside the car.

Everything glittered, the hand-crafted jewelry that filled tables, the string of lights hung from the trees to light the way and your eyes in complete wonder. It was an art fair, something you mentioned a while ago, which he evidently remembered. It was slowly becoming clear that he took every word you said and tucked it away in his heart for later. A fluttering feeling built up in your stomach from knowing that this man adored you just as much as you adored him. You squeezed Obi-Wan's hand, a little giddy to be there and with him. You looked up at him and hesitated.

"Well, go on!" he told you. You smiled brightly and pulled him with you towards the first vendor. He didn't expect to have to catch up to your stride, but you couldn't be stationary for long, wanting to see every painting and creation that these people had to offer. While he certainly appreciated the myriad of, well, everything. From large life-like oil paintings to bongs shaped like a juice box, he was content to watch your reactions. Your face changed every two seconds based on whatever you were looking at. Your eyes went wide at some of the art, and you would squint to see the details of the others.

adorable.

You didn't forget about him, of course, pointing out things you thought he would like.

"Obi isn't this cool?" you pointed at a figure carved out of krayt dragon teeth like one he had in his office. "Oh woah, look at these book covers!" they were rebound books, many of which were classics that he was very fond of.

He eventually led you around for a bit when he found something he really liked. He never let go of your hand the whole time unless you wanted to handle a trinket or try something on. One thing in particular that caught your eye was a small locket with a gem encrusted on the front.

"It's a corusca. They're very rare, only mined in a few places like Yavin Prime," the vendor told you when she saw how you were staring.

"All the way from Yavin Prime? Wow," you responded, picking it up to feel the chain in your hand.

"Yeah," she smiled, "My brother makes a living off mining and trading them,"

You looked up at her, the delicate necklace dangling from your hands. The way the gem was faceted and caught the light and the metal detailing was so well done— the girl selling it had talent.

"How much is it?"

You tried not to let your reaction show when you heard the price. It wasn't exactly within your price range.

You're pretty, but I'm college poor.

Your face fell just a bit, then you remembered where you were and who you were with, and all your troubles and thoughts fell away because you didn't need anything other than Obi-Wan's hand in yours, warm, a little rough, and large— perfect for yours. You moved on to the next stall after thanking the girl first, of course. While sifting through a small bowl of rings, Obi let you know he was going to the bathroom with a few quiet words in your ear. With a nod from you and a kiss to send him on his way, he walked around the corner.

Once you were satisfied with your purchases, some graphic tees and a tiny loth cat shaped candle for you, podracing posters as his gift to anakin, a variety of teas, and a ring for Obi-Wan (which he secretly only bought because you had made an offhand comment one time that he looked hot wearing them) you walked back to the car leisurely. You were in no hurry to leave the sanctuary found the arm he had circled around your shoulder as you leaned against the soft sweater that covered his chest.

As always, the moment was destined to end, but this time it led to another; one different than the ritual of packing up your things and closing the office door behind you.

Another sound followed the rumble of the engine turning as Obi-Wan turned the key, one much sweeter. The song already playing on your phone had connected to the car's speaker.

“My love must be a kind of blind love. I can't see anyone but you,”

The words filled the vehicle's interior, and the echoing style of the lyrics playing made the experience ethereal. This song seemed to be written for this specific moment, here and now.

"Are the stars out tonight? I don't know if it's cloudy or bright,"

It was the soundtrack to the look being shared by two lovers whose eyes closed when they leaned into each other to share a kiss. Even then, they could see each other, the true versions of each other that only they would ever experience.

"I only have eyes for you, dear…"

The growing familiarity between the feel of the other's mouths mingled with theirs made the taste of a kiss even sweeter. There was no space between their lips, physically or emotionally. And yet it wasn't enough. The car console was the only thing between the rest of their bodies, and Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn't bear it.

"Darling, would you step out of the car, please?" He whispered, knowing that his request sounded a little weird. You gave him a confused and borderline offended look. Did he just ask you to get out of the car?

"Please?" He asked once more, straining just a bit to place small kisses along your neck to let you know his intentions were still sweet as ever. You let your eyes flutter closed with pleasure and followed his instructions just after.

Once both of you stepped out and walked around the car, meeting in the front. After a moment, the car lights turned off, but the music played on, the moon now your only source of light. The silvery glow caressed the features that each of you so loved in the other. That was your world now. Nothing but the moon and each other existed.

"The moon may be high, but I can't see a thing in the sky,"

His hand slid around your waist to rest on your lower back. It took your breath away. Even though it was something he had done many times before, this moment was different. It was so... intimate. An arm hung loosely around his neck while the other was extended to lace your fingers with his as you slowly began to sway.

"I only have eyes for you…"

The way the whole world slowed just for the two of you, nothing but the music playing from the car and the night air surrounding you. There was a liberating lack of fear that someone would walk in on you or find out about your little secret, and you intended to savor it.

"You are here, and so am I. Maybe millions of people go by, but they all disappear from view,"

The two of you took your time bestowing your affections on the other. Your hands slowly roamed, smoothing out the fabric of his shirt beneath your palm, feeling the planes of his body. He preferred to trace up and down your spine with the tips of his fingers, giving you chills. He stopped to kiss the crown of your hair before letting his forehead drop so it pressed to yours. You smiled as you felt the vibrations in the air from his low humming. You joined him, but not for long before the two of you began to laugh a little at yourselves. When the noise became once again limited to the music playing, he looked into your eyes, and you could see something change, something good. Before you could think about it, his hands were cupping your face, and his lips were brushing against yours. It only took a moment for you to melt into him completely. It wasn't hard when you were with someone so willing to hold all of you when you did so. Your lips moved in rhythm, enjoying the sweet taste and feeling of being so connected.

"And I only have eyes for you,"

Nothing could ever break the way you two were drawn together, depending on each other to keep yourselves in orbit…not even old lovers.

PART 11

tags:

@bakerstreethound @heyhawtdawgs @mcbenson25-blog @heyitsaloy @stanny-uwu @venus-armote @ohworm-writes @songoficecreamandfireworks @tairbutstronger @thedarthpancakes @marierg @tinkerbellthebard @laughingstarryeyes @zanzann

[sarasapen]

In Sickness and In Health

Another addition to the Little One series, which, I admit, has been a long time coming; Obi's oh moment.

AN: In my mind, it would take an extreme situation with high concentrations of emotions for Obi-Wan to even come close to admitting the extent of his feelings for someone he shouldn’t be having feelings for. There’s some angst, because, well, it’s me.

“What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?”

“Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.

-James Luceno, Labyrinth of Evil

Jedi are keepers of the peace, child, your Master had said to you. He said it once, really, there was hardly ever a need for him to chastise you on jumping head first into combat. You preferred to talk first, swing later, much like him.

Unlike him, however you didn’t enjoy the fight, the thrill of swinging your saber around. Not when it so often came at the cost of blood, no matter whose blood it may be. You were, at heart, a healer. Not a warrior.

Keepers of the makerforsaken peace, you think sarcastically, struggling in the too tight binds over your hands, keeping your discomfort masked under neutrality when your Master’s gaze flickers to you.

The mission must come first.

It’s words he’s repeated multiple times, to both you and Anakin over the years. A reminder that no matter what, no matter what awful thing is happening, the mission must come first. For the greater good, to help more people. You couldn’t risk the lives of dozens or hundreds or thousands of people, just for one.

We’ll go in together. We’ll take him together. Whatever it is, we’ll do it together.

Together.

Maker, why did none of his Padawans ever listen to him?

It was supposed to be easy. A simple in and out, fake a capture and flip it around so that the capturers were now the captured. It was supposed to be easy.

But some stupid droid’s blaster went off- no surprise there, really- causing a chain reaction of panic. In the chaos, you had to dart the other direction, and now he’s fighting off adversaries one way while you’re being dragged the other. He turns his head to look back at you, and he sees a needle being pushed into the side of your arm, and with worried eyes, he watches you go limp.

The mission must come first.

It’s what he tells himself when he breaks free an hour later, when he takes the Prince of this Separatist-aligned planet hostage in order to get him to lift some sort of ban or the other- the details are getting fuzzy now.

You stumble through the doors minutes later, a small cut on your forehead and a dark bruise beginning to form over the expanse of your cheekbone. You’re disgruntled, but altogether fine. The medic-droid scans indicate the same thing, that other than a few superficial cuts and scrapes, you're in tiptop shape.

It’s why neither you nor Obi-Wan think to get your blood work done.

——

“You don’t look so good,” Anakin observes, coming to a halt in front of you. You manage a glare, wincing at the way it strains against the recovering muscles of your face. Anakin notices, and flinches sympathetically with you.

“Really? I thought the bruise brought out my eyes,” You jibe, framing the injured side of your face with your hand. His lips quirk into a little smile, but it dims slightly as he looks over you again.

“Not that. Although that does look pretty badass,” He teases, before his tone evens out into something serious. “You just look… sick.”

You shrug, ignoring his comment. Come to think of it, the bridge had been feeling awfully stuffy and warm. And it’s usually freezing. It’s why you had wandered in here in the first place, to try to break the sweat that had started to gather on your face.

“Post-mission jitters, I guess,” You hum, swiping a hand over your forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat, trying to do it casually so Anakin doesn’t notice. He notices.

“Drink some water. It’ll help,” He offers with a wave goodbye, and you swing your arm in the air animatedly to prove that you were, in fact, fine. You swallow, your throat itchy and dry, and your hand drops to wrap around your throat. Water… water does sound very good right now.

So of you pop, wandering around aimlessly to try and find some water. Exit the meeting room, straight ahead at the junction, turn left, turn right, turn…

Straight. Left, left, into the lift, right, straight, straight, straight, nah, straight was boring now, how about left-?

You reach the cockpit, frowning as you turn into the little room. What did you need? The pilot turns to you and says something, and you shrug your shoulders, giving her a wave and wandering back out. Wave. Waves. Ocean. Water.

Oh, water sounded nice.

Maybe you could get some.

——

You’re… off.

Jittery. Flighty. Wide-eyed and pale and off. The huge bruise on your face doesn’t help the image of you. He wonders why you haven’t applied any bacta to it yet.

“Little one?” Obi-Wan calls tentatively, lowering the tablet in his hand.

“Hm?” You snap your head towards him, tucking your hands under your thighs and bouncing your legs.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah-yeah, why you asking?” He thinks your words slur slightly, but it could just be his imagination.

“Your signature is…warped,” He describes, his perfect brows furrowing together over his perfect blue eyes on his perfect face-

“‘S probably lingering adrenaline from-from the mission earlier,” You brush off, turning your wide eyes to survey the empty room. Your response confirmed it, you were not okay. Obi-Wan leans forward, trying to smooth over his sudden flare-up of worry.

“Little one, the mission was two days ago,” He reminds, voice low and warm and smooth and it felt nice to listen to. It was like- it was like tea. Yeah. Like the tea he made on cold days and it would be all nice and smooth and it would run down your throat deliciously and make you warm inside out. You liked listening to him talk. You could listen to him talk for hours. Anakin always complained that Obi-Wan had lectured him a lot more than he ever did you. You’d trade places willingly, if it meant that you could hear him talk to you more.

“Padawan, are you listening to me?” Your Master calls again, his tone hinting that he had been saying things that you weren’t paying attention to. Whoops. You duck your head, ashamed for being called out and even more ashamed for disappointing him. He didn’t sound disappointed though, just worried.

“Mhm,” You get out, eyes fixated on a stray thread on his sleeve, and you reach out to tug at it.

“Padawan,” He calls, voice overly concerned. The hand that's attached to the arm that’s inside the sleeve that’s attached to the thread you’re toying with raises to press against your cheek. With you so close now, Obi-Wan notices how glazed your eyes are.

“When did you last sleep?” His thumb brushes across your dewy skin, and he watches you blink slowly, taking far longer than what should’ve been needed to process the question. If you hadn’t known the mission was days ago, Obi-Wan wondered if you had been aware of how much time had passed, and if you had been taking care of yourself.

Your lips part as if you’re going to answer, but then they close, and you dart your eyes to the loose thread again, focus drawing back onto it. Watching your fingers grasp it gently, Obi-Wan swallows, calling your name softly as he did when you were a child to get your attention once again.

“Have you eaten? Since the mission, little one, have you had anything to eat?” He prompts you, trying to keep his voice soothing as he attempts to hold your attention, despite how frightening your behaviour was. It was new, this fight for your focus, and it’s only then that he realises quite how much he’s held your attention over the years.

“M not hungry,” You insist a little petulantly, almost pouting as you lean into his hand. At the implication that you hadn’t eaten, Obi-Wan’s heart drops into his stomach.

“Let’s get you something to eat?”

“Can- can I-” You start your request, trailing off halfway, eyes drooping shut slightly.

“Can you what, little one?” Obi-Wan prompts patiently, his other hand reaching forward to brush against yours.

“Tired,” Sighing, you lean further against Obi-Wan, who shifts to almost support your entire weight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then, hm? You can eat something as soon as you wake up,” He suggests, steering you towards your bunk. You mumble something non-committedly, letting him manoeuvre you into your bunk when it becomes apparent you can barely lift a limb. Or- you don’t really let him, it’s not like you could’ve stopped him.

So Obi-Wan tucks you into bed, smoothing the blanket over you and petting your hair until you fall asleep, grip on his sleeve loosening. He tries not to overthink the fact that your forehead is warm. He’s been sick plenty of times after a particularly stressful mission, as has Anakin. Some rest would quickly get you back on your feet.

And yet still… he felt that he was missing something glaringly obvious.

——

It isn’t often that cruiser ships were attacked mid-flight. It was even rarer that a cruiser ship containing Jedi would be invaded.

But once separatist droids began filling in, it became apparent to Obi-Wan that this invasion was not a rogue pirating expedition that chanced upon them. No, this was deliberate.

There are blaster shots fired and droids and men both fall. The initial jolt of the attack had rocked the ship and startled you awake, and Obi-Wan knows you’re behind him, fighting. He hasn’t seen you, he doesn’t know if you truly are alright, but he doesn’t have time to worry about that right now.

The mission comes first.

All Obi-Wan can do is to trust in you, to trust in his teachings. The latter of which was much more difficult to achieve; he’d always think back on events- be it regarding you or Anakin- and think that he could have dealt with issues better, taught you better, cared for you better. But he was a Jedi Knight, his life having been charted out amongst the stars eons before his grandparents’ grandparents even existed. His life, and subsequently yours, meant that he had to trust you now, had to trust you would hold your own. It was strange…

Other Masters had mentioned that it got a little easier over time, the overwhelming amount of worry one had for their Padawan. Obi-Wan was no fool, however, he was not quite so naive as to think that other Masters cared for their Padawans as he did his. For all his upholdings of the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan might have loved quietly, but oh how strongly did that love burn. He had seen, with his own eyes, other Masters and their Padawans; Luminara and Barris, Windu and Billaba, even his relationship with his own Master…

It didn’t matter now. Not now. Right now, all Obi-Wan can do is push the fight back, and trust in the force.

He feels it as soon as it happens. The steady thrum of all the crew around him, of the life forces and the signatures he’s learnt to recognise as yours and Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s.

There’s a blast behind him. Far behind him. He manages to not lose his footing when he feels the dip in the Force that means a collective loss of life, and it dips dips dips just a little more as the seconds tick by, as more lives slip away in the seconds that follow the explosion. He tries to ignore the pang in his chest. His ears are ringing. Something’s not right.

And then suddenly the thrumming goes silent. It doesn’t really, what with Anakin and other crew members around him, but he feels it… he feels it… It’s like there are alarms blaring right next to his ears but at the same time his head has been plunged underwater. He reaches out, praying, hoping, begging-

The mission comes first.

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw so hard it almost cracks his teeth, and he slices three droids in half with a single blow. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t let himself catch a glimpse of what he knows will be his undoing. He has to shut his eyes when the fight necessitates his body turns, he has to rely on instinct and not the force, not now, he can’t trust the force now, even though, logically, he knows it is only due to the force that he’s still able to fight so well.

The mission comes first, Obi-Wan thinks, and for a moment he thinks of Qui-Gon, of that awful day on Naboo, and then he thinks of your lovely smile, with your sweet, bright eyes, gazing up at him with cheeks flushed from the aftermath of laughter that he inspired. It was the smile that was amongst his last thoughts of the day as he fell asleep, the same smile that he would think about the moment he became conscious. Obi-Wan has spent years memorising the details of your face, but now he’s stricken with the knowledge that his memory would never hold a candle to seeing you in person. The sounds of lightsabers can be heard behind him, and Obi-Wan aches to turn around and see you smile at him like that again.

When all that’s left in front of him is the crackling of severed wires and metal limbs, Obi-Wan allows himself to turn his head just slightly.

A little ways down the corridor, really not all that far away, Anakin finishes dealing a series of blows that leave a similar pile of metal junk on the floor. Irritated, he huffs a strand of hair out of his face, rolling his shoulders and turning to see Obi-Wan drop to his knees. Not even a second later he’s literally sent stumbling from the wave of absolute grief that spirals out from his friend.

It hurts.

Maker, it hurts.

Anakin grits his teeth and blinks away the onslaught of tears in his eyes, struggling past the pain as he does his best to have his brother’s back. A few steps ahead of him, Ahsoka is pressing a fist to her chest, a tortured expression on her face as she tries to straighten. Even the force insensitive beings seem a little winded.

He’s never seen Obi-Wan like this, not ever. It terrifies him. Anakin turns his head to look for you, wondering if you felt the sheer force of it as well, but he freezes as he sees the body Obi-Wan is now kneeling in front of.

The grief reels back in, and Anakin is running to you, dropping onto his knees and using trembling hands to press down on nonexistent wounds as if it would restart your heart.

He feels the dip, dip, dip, of Obi-Wan doing compressions but he knows. You’re pale, cold, chest still and mouth parted. Anakin may be a dreamer, but he’s not delusional. At least he can’t be, not right now.

“Obi-Wan,” He hears his own voice, and it’s foreign to him. He distantly realises the fight is over, he doesn’t hear the sound of blaster fire or lightsabers swinging through the air, he sees the crew that had circled around them to cover them- Maker, how long had they been doing this?

“Obi-Wan,” He says, louder this time, leaning forward and putting a hand on the older man’s arm. Anakin is shoved back with so much force it leaves him stunned for a second.

“Please,” He hears Obi-Wan mutter, and Anakin takes a second to truly look. Tears are falling freely, Obi-Wan’s teeth gritted as he doesn’t stop in compressions. “Please,” Obi-Wan is begging with every push, breathless and exhausted, beginning to falter but not daring to stop.

“Please, my love, please,” and Anakin gathers all the strength he can muster, shoving Obi-Wan off you. He takes over, grunting as he presses presses presses presses, refusing to acknowledge that it’s been minutes and refusing to internalise the way Obi-Wan is cradling your head and stroking your cheek and murmuring how much he adores you.

For Obi-Wan, Anakin can be delusional for a bit.

Red starts to bleed into his vision, prickling away and igniting his heart with such rage as he continues pushing. Obi-Wan is sobbing, pleading with whatever gods above to bring you back. Distantly Anakin can hear the desperate yelling of Ahsoka, orders to call for help and get medical aid.

This isn’t fair he thinks, continuing to push at the long since lifeless body on the ground. This isn’t fucking fair.

Not to her. Not to Obi-Wan who’s been wrapped around her finger from day 0. Not to him, not to Padmé, not to the entire fucking Jedi Order.

Because Anakin has known, perhaps longer even than she or Obi-Wan knew. He knew that Obi-Wan loved her, and he can feel the devastation that this is the first time he’s saying it to her. That she doesn’t even hear it.

“My darling,” Obi-Wan takes her hand in his, pressing his lips to the cold skin. “My darling, please, just wake up.”

——

A lot of things can happen in an hour.

The golden hour, medics call it. The precious 3600 seconds that take place after an injury is inflicted or a symptom starts to show.

A lot of things can happen in an hour.

Reinforcements from the cruiser a parsec away had arrived seconds after you fell, and had whisked you away with them within five minutes. Obi-Wan had to be pulled off you, Anakin accompanying him and yelling at anyone and everyone that so much as looked at you wrong.

They restart your heart.

They shove tubes and wires into your arms and put an oxygen mask over your face. They try to do an examination with the little technology on board, but it’s obvious that major treatment can only be achieved on Coruscant. And it’s forty-five minutes away. Give or take.

You’ll live, the doctors say.

Poison, that targeted the neurological aspects of a sentient being. In other words, it attacked your ability to decision-make, to rationalise, to understand the extent at which you were neglecting your own body.

Dehydration was why you were weak. The explosion was just the catalyst to your inevitable collapse. It’s a good thing, the doctors say, that the explosion knocked you out and that they were able to identify the poison and administer medication and keep you alive.

Alive… but to what extent?

Neurological aspects.

The doctors weren’t sure if you’d have full physical or mental function when you woke up. “As unfortunate death is, learn to let go, we must,” Master Yoda’s voice comes from beside Obi-Wan.

The latter of the two is slumped against a wall, tired circles under his eyes and unwashed hair tousled from where he had been pulling at it. It’s day two. You haven’t woken up. Obi-Wan hasn’t ventured further from your side than the corridor outside your room. The tubes and wires and beeping machines connected to you make him a bit sick. Maybe… he thinks, curling his fingers into fists before releasing them, repeating the motions over and over. Maybe if I had gone to her sooner-

“If you’re implying that I should’ve let my Padawan die-“

“Misunderstand me, you do,” Yoda shakes his head. “Let her die, you should not. Let her go, you should.”

“I am not going to abandon her,” Obi-Wan responds, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The absolute last thing he needed right now was a lecture from Master Yoda about how else he had been failing.

“Ask yourself, you have to, if letting your Padawans go you are able, hm.”

Yoda disappears.

Obi-Wan sighs, rakes his fingers over his beard. Anakin finally convinces him to take a hot shower. Ahsoka comes to sit next to him in silence, picking at her nails. Padmé comes with a blanket and homemade food that Obi-Wan barely takes two bites of.

I’ve never seen him like this, Anakin says.

He was like this after your battle with Dooku on Geonosis, Padmé responds, too worried to notice Anakin’s stunned expression.

When you wake up becomes if you wake up, and Obi-Wan knows he has to get up and do something else.

Attachments are forbidden, Obi-Wan reminds himself when day three rolls around, and more Jedi linger in the med-bay hallway.

Attachments are forbidden, Obi-Wan thinks, when he turns the corner and notices Madam Jocasta smoothing the blanket over your form the next day. One of your creche mates volunteers in the med-bay, spending more time walking past your room than they do actually being useful. He pretends not to notice when the new flowers on your bedside table are distinctly Mandalorian as he listens to Padmé reading a new book to you. Two weeks in, Obi-Wan passes Caleb Dume at the elevator, and later that day he has to remind himself attachments are forbidden when he overhears Billaba say something about your condition to Windu. He can’t even bring himself to think it when Yoda pauses in the hallway outside the medbay once a day, just for a second or two, and carries on.

If attachments were forbidden, why was Obi-Wan so sure he wasn’t the only one suffering from your absence?

Obi-Wan startles awake in the middle of the night, three weeks later, and just like he had known three weeks ago, he knows now. This time, however, no being, no mission, no Code was going to stop him from being by your side. He doesn’t care what implications there will be about his bond with you that he knew so immediately. He doesn’t care enough to make himself presentable, not when he couldn’t give a damn of anyone’s eyes on him if they weren’t yours.

What good would it be? Being someone to the Jedi Order if it meant being nothing to you?

There’s a whirlwind of activity fluttering in and out of your room, and Obi-Wan barely manages to force his way inside.

You’re awake and you’re choking around a tube and you’re confused but you’re alright.

His throat burns with the ache to scream out his thanks, his affections, his love, but then your eyes lock onto his and you whimper amidst your fear. That snaps him back into place, and he’s moving to be at your side, gripping your hand and softening his gaze.

He smooths his hand over your hair and murmurs soft encouraging praises to you as healers begin adjusting medicines and dosages and tests. There’s a shuffle of movement around you, and he keeps your wide, scared eyes trained on him as he continues talking. Tears shine in your eyes from pain and terrified confusion, but they focus on him.

He isn’t sure what he’s saying, but he just talks. He talks and talks and talks to try to hide the way he feels like he’s about to burst into tears because thank you, Maker, you’re awake, and you can hear him, and you’re clearly focusing on him which means you can understand him. He raises the hand he’s gripping and presses it to his lips, releasing another relieved breath when your hand squeezes his in response.

Sometime in between the quiet murmurs Obi-Wan has been saying to you, your hand had reached up to fist in his shirt, keeping him firmly in your space. Every so often, with a particularly painful jolt or prick, your fingers would pull at the fabric, and he’d lean his head down to brush his nose against yours.

He wants to kiss you.

The thought strikes him rather suddenly and he’s slightly startled by the intensity of his desire. Oh, how desperately he wants to kiss you. For a moment, just a small, little, hopeful moment, Obi-Wan thinks he sees something in your eyes that means you wouldn’t push him away if he tried.

Then a healer brushes against his arm as they smooth the blanket back over you, and Obi-Wan watches as you tear your gaze away from him, focusing on the healer speaking to you.

They do tests on you and… and you’re fine.

Lucky, incredibly lucky, to have survived a dosage you did without severe long-term damage. There was some nerve damage that affected your right hand, but it’s barely enough to be visible to the eye, and with physical therapy it should be just fine.

A week later, Obi-Wan is given the all clear to whisk you out of the hospital wing and back to your shared apartment.

It’s only when you flop gratefully onto your bed and let out a long sigh that the memories of That Day return to Obi-Wan.

Clear memories of how he felt about you, how obvious it had been to himself then.

He loved you.

Not as a friend, or a sister, or a student, or any other thing you could’ve been. He loved you, in ways he shouldn’t, in ways he couldn’t, because you were young and he was pretty much double your age, and you weren’t his but you were his and fuck, that thought felt so wrong now. It betrayed everything he stood for, everything he believed in. He’s loved before, yes, but this was different.

This had snuck up on him and hit him full-force in a moment of absolute weakness. This was him realising that his belief in his duty to you… extended far further than duty. His protection over you, his attempts to make you happy, his attempts to let you feel loved- He foolishly let himself believe it was because you were his Padawan. After all, he tried to do the same with Anakin…

But he was in love with you.

He loved you, plain and simple and good, a love with no expectations or dark desires, a love that was pure and right and that burned through him.

It built up up up and threatened to spill out from his throat and from behind his eyes if he stared at you any longer.

He loved you.

And there you were, just sitting there. Unbeknownst to him, you'd come to your own revelation quite some time ago, skipping happily past the stages of denial and panic, and reaching a conclusion that he was himself about to come to.

He has no option.

Well, he technically has three. He could tell you how he felt, scare the crap out of you, risk expulsion from the Order and face the massive probability that you would never speak to him ever again. Next, he could also not tell you anything, put in for a transfer, break your heart by abandoning you, and face the even higher probability of you never speaking to him again. Neither of those options were… realistic for him to carry out.

So he has no choice but to go with the one that would hurt you the least- that is to say, not hurt you at all.

He won’t say a word.

Obi-Wan decides with a resounding finality that he has a duty to you, a promise that he has every intention of upholding. To train you to become the best that you can be under him, until you had nothing more to learn from him, until you were ready to proceed with your trials. With how spectacularly you had progressed, from being one of the youngest younglings to be ready to undergo Padawan training to the utterly brilliant Padawan you were now, Obi-Wan knows it’s likely you’ll go through your trials at at even younger age than Anakin. Rare, yes, but not unheard of. And certainly not a big surprise.

A couple of years then, he figures.

A couple more years for him to push down his feelings and sit on them and pretend he doesn't adore you so, a couple more years until you grew tired of being just his Padawan and started wanting to prove yourself as an independent Knight. A couple more years, he decides, turning to face you once your eyes flutter open.

You’re sitting on your bed, wide eyes blinking up at him and a shy smile dancing over your features. You’re sitting on your bed, where in a few years he’ll-

It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know yet. You don’t know yet. It doesn’t matter.

He just needs to hold out for a couple more years, he tells himself. He wishes it was more than just a couple when you smile your brilliant smile at him.

Love is strange, that way.

----

End-

----

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[gildatheplant]

Jedi Culture- and why I find the fandom vilification of them super uncomfortable

So TBOBF gave viewers an episode where Luke Skywalker returned to teach Grogu- complete with adorable moments like Grogu trying to sneak a frog into his mouth and Luke using the Force to help Grogu skip through the woods- and fans were really split. I just read an enormous post that used Luke’s choice to Grogu and concerns about attachments as a jumping point for saying that the Jedi were basically heartless, blaming them for the deaths of countless characters and the fall of the Jedi Order. They even went so far as to say that this moment was the turning point that basically doomed Kylo Ren/Ben Solo.

And I’m just whaaaaaaattttttt........

Granted, a lot of this divide in fandom and the near obsession people seem to have with the “evils” of the no attachment rule, stems from the absolutely disastrous sequels. The fact that they completely skipped over showing any of Luke’s Jedi Academy (aside from smouldering ruins) and made Luke himself behave incredibly OOC, just so they could do an ill-thought-out rehash of the original trilogy, makes it incredibly hard for viewers to have any kind of understanding for the Jedi Order.

Of course, if Disney hadn’t Scorched the Earth of the original Star Wars Extended Universe, none of this fandom arguing would exist because in the far more in-character Extended/Legends continuity, Luke just flat out gets rid of the No-Attachment Rule. I still hold out desperate hope that Disney will cave and turn the Star Wars Universe into a multiverse (like the MCU) in order to bring the Legends universe back into canon.

However, since we’re all still stuck in the confusing mess that is the Disney Star Wars verse, I’ll point out that people who seem to hate the Jedi really focus only on the most negative moments shown of the no-attachment rule and completely ignore all the positive elements of Jedi relationships. I’m not saying the Jedi Order was flawless- it definitely had flaws- but it’s flaws were similar to many real life cultures and religions. This is where the bulk of my discomfort stems from- people blaming the destruction of a culture they don’t really understand on the culture instead of the forces against them.

The Jedi are constantly seen being compassionate, loving and kind despite the No-Attachments rule. In AOTC Yoda gently teases Obi-Wan in front of his class of younglings to amuse the children while also helping Obi-Wan. In TCW Plo Koon is shown in a flashback playing with baby Ahsoka in front of her parents when he adopts her into the Jedi Order (this is Important because it highlights the reality of Jedi adopting children into their culture as opposed to the Imperial lies of them kidnapping children- the Jedi go to the families of Force sensitive children and offer to to take them in to help the children understand gifts their parents can’t help them with. The parents are given all the info they need and are allowed to make the choice without pressure.) In another episode of TCW, Obi-Wan risks his life to tame ferocious creatures trying to attack him and his men because he understands they’re innocent animals and don’t deserve to be killed if it can be avoided. And all of the Jedi are shown caring for each other, treating each other as friends and family. 

No Attachment doesn’t mean No Love, it means finding balance between loving and letting free, loving but not being possessive. The Clone Wars were basically Palpatine’s way of manipulating and beating down the Jedi until they were forced to become more and more oppressed in order to protect their minds and the remains of their beliefs. It was a manipulation so perfectly done that even fans tend to blame the Jedi for their failings.

Now, back to Luke. While I truly hate what the sequels have done to him and his Jedi Order, I still hold out hope that the shows will eventually either de-canonize the sequels or make them an alternate universe. That said, his choice to Grogu and his mention of the no attachment rule actually makes a lot of sense. Luke knows Grogu is conflicted. Luke himself was never really given a choice- he had the pressure of rebuilding an almost entirely wiped out culture on his shoulders from the moment he first saw a lightsabre. He doesn’t want that for Grogu. In a way, the choice Luke presents to Grogu is as much about his own attachments as Grogu’s. He’s showing that he’s willing to let his first student go (a student that called out to him no less) if that’s what the student wants. And I know, I know, everybody wants Grogu to have both, but realistically, that’d be damn hard to pull off, especially with Grogu’s lifespan being so different from Luke and Din’s. Perhaps in The Mandolorian season 3 we’ll get that, but even if we don’t, Luke’s time with Grogu is clearly an over all positive experience for both of them.

[qqueenofhades]

I always thought the Prequels were good Star Wars stories told less well than they could have been, and one of my pet peeves (obvs. YMMV) was that GL forgot they were prequels and so spent far too much time teasing Anakin's inner conflict when everyone already knew how that was going to end. We did need that taste of what was to come, but the better movie would have been less in Anakin's headspace and more in everyone else's. We all know Anakin's going to fall. Focus on making it hurt. I think Obi-Wan Kenobi's got it figured out. They don't need to explain the obvious over and over again, they just need to stab you in the heart with it in new and cinematically pretty ways.

I mean... yeah, pretty much. The prequels were underwhelming for a few reasons, firstly because George Lucas insisted on writing all the dialogue himself (he had done it for the other films, but there were multiple co-writers and script polishers and actor improvisations that saved it) and it was.... bad. Ponderous, self-important, clunky, and in the case of Anakin and Padme's romance, inadvertently and unfortunately hilarious. This was compounded by his insistence on directing it as a dreadfully grim and wooden tragedy (Hayden Christensen got panned for his performance, but he said that he tried to lighten it up/act in a different way, but George didn't want it), when SW works best especially in its moments of lightheartedness and self-aware gentle mockery of itself. It's a soap-opera fantasy/sci-fi popcorn universe; it doesn't need to be written and directed like King Lear, and the prequels were weaker due to George's insistence on playing them completely straight.

So... yeah, we all know that Anakin is going to fall to the dark side, and I have said before that the whole thing where Padme dies in childbirth because lady parts (apparently there are no gynecologists on Coruscant but Luke can get a totally realistic fake hand?) and that's what makes Anakin go evil is also Bad. The parts and components are there-- Anakin's deep attachments to his mother, Padme, and Obi-Wan, and his problems with anger and desperation to fix the injustice that he experienced as a child slave -- but they're never given enough narrative elbow grease and genuine emotion to make them really hit the way they should.

This is especially obvious because yes, we are now all suffering buckets over Kenobi in the way that we came the closest to doing in Revenge of the Sith (which is by far the best of the prequels, despite its problems). We already know the story backward and forward, we know what happened before and what's happening next and how everything ended up this way, but because it focuses on emotions and character relationships and love and trauma more than clunky exposition or cliché narrative gimmicks, it still hurts a lot anyway. Yet again, it shows the idea that you constantly have to Shock The Audience to tell a good story is total hooey. If you're not necessarily shocking them, but you're still landing your emotional punches because your storytelling focuses on GENUINE feelings and respects the decades of engagement that fans have poured into this story and these characters, you don't NEED schlocky gratuitous random "twists" and the wanton Grimdarking of everything.

Basically, that was why I hated the sequel trilogy so much: the sheer disrespect shown to Han, Luke, and Leia, the destruction of their story arcs and narrative goals from the original trilogy, and the way this was all done in the name of Game of Thrones-ifying Star Wars and never felt authentic to the tones and themes of the original. As a SW fan for my entire life, I simply can't enter or engage with that take on it, because it is so disrespectful and destructive from what the story always was about before. Even the prequels, while they're technically and narratively underwhelming and I wanted them to be much better, still are Star Wars movies. The sequels on the other hand feel shoehorned in from an entirely different franchise, and the fact that mediocre white men can just make up shit and not even properly plan out, script, or plot their addition to one of the most beloved properties of all time will never not make me see red.

That being the case, the obvious adoration that Kenobi has for the characters, the way it tenderly focuses on their love and their relationships and their agonising pain, while still centering hope, Obi-Wan's rusty but deeply rooted compassion, his desperate desire to rest but his equally grim determination to fight for what's right even when it's totally hopeless and his heart is broken... that got me feeling Some Kinda Way. Because at its heart, that is what SW has always been about, and I think the reason people are responding to it so strongly is exactly because they recognize that.

[dolcid]

Random Star Wars Prompts! + All The Characters I write for!

A/N: hi! I'm so sorry about the hiatus. I'm currently stressed over a lot of things so please be patient with me! I'll eventually get to the requests! In the main time here are some prompts I've come up with randomly or while awake at 3am 😂 (some prompts are on two or more lists) (I'll update this a lot!)

~

Characters:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Darth Maul

Cal Kestis

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Darth Vader

Din Djarin

Boba Fett

Poe Dameron

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

~

Basic (what do I call this one? 😂)

You're a princess

Practicing together

Being an inquisitor

Being evil together

You're a different species

Plus-sized reader

Fluff

Calling them cute

They get overprotective of you

Cuddles

Kissing them randomly

They/You take care of you/them while sick/injured

Wanting to have kids

Pregnancy

"All of this is for me?"

Picnic dates

Cooking together

You get scared

Your/Their birthday

Child's birthday

Pillow talk

Getting old together

Hugging them from behind

Swooning over them

Massaging/Bathing them

You're shy

"You're cute when you're mad,"

Getting back together

Practicing together

You're on your period

Angst

They accidentally hit you

They yell at you

You turn to the dark side

They make you cry (not on purpose)

You feel unwanted and leave

Getting captured/kidnapped

You get tortured

Jealousy

"I loved you."

Taking a bullet for them

Arguing and breaking up

You seek comfort from someone else

They realize how much they need you

You think they like someone else

NSFW

Giving them the look during an important meeting/moment

Telling them you're horny

Grabbing their 🍆

Sucking them off

Sex Pollen

Teasing them

Wearing provocative clothing

Lingerie

Getting on your knees in front of them

"Do me right here on the floor,"

Pillow talk

Breeding kink

Praise kink

Desperately needing them

Having to share a bed

Giving them a lap dance

[isagrimorie]

36 or/and 21 for legacies :)

For this ask meme:

21. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

AO3

The storm came out of nowhere, a vortex of angry lightning and thunder. They were in the middle of a dirt road following up a lead and a whim Hope had.

“What the hell!” Lizzie exclaimed as the rain began pelting down.

Hope lifted her head, as if she scented the air, and probably was. “This is a spell.”

Lizzie turned her palm over and knew Hope was right as a Siphon Witch things with magic always felt a little different. This didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

“Son of a bitch!” Lizzie glared at the clouds above them, swirling in a gray mass. “I just bought this jacket! I swear if I get my hands on this witch, I will—“

“You’ll what?” Hope interrupted, cutting Lizzie’s tirade, curious. “Gut them? Slit their throat? Rip out their heart?” She closed the distance between them with each word, her voice dropping at each step. Until Hope’s voice was a pleasant low burr.

After the carnival Lizzie convinced Hope into a shopping spree, Lizzie needed to get out of her clothes, the smell of dried blood made her hungry. Hope might be evil now but it didn’t mean Lizzie would be caught undead with an unstylish partner in crime. The point was the shirt Lizzie pulled off the rack because she thought it would look good on Hope was a lot more low cut than Lizzie originally thought.

And it was-- Hope quirked an eyebrow-- distracting. Lizzie felt her cheeks and ears warm despite the cold wind but refused to be cowed or embarrassed. Hope smirked, challenging and teasing at the same time. “Tell me what you’re going to do?”

Lizzie realized that her mouth suddenly felt dry. 

Until another sound of thunder made Lizzie jump and yelp. It broke whatever spell Hope had on her and suddenly Lizzie was very, very aware of everything. The sound of the wind, the way the rain felt like it was pins and needles all over her skin. 

Her heart raced at every clap of thunder. Lizzie needed to find shelter. “Let’s get out of here!” 

Hope’s smirk dropped and for a second Lizzie thought she saw the disappointment in Hope’s eyes before it disappeared with the expression of curious apathy that seemed to be this new Hope’s default resting bitch face.

“It’s just a little rain, Lizzie.”

“How is this not unbearable for you?” Lizzie demanded. “You’re not much older than me vampire-wise. You should still feel things just as bad!”

There was another clap of thunder and that was too much Lizzie attempted to vamp away toward their car.

But Hope’s hand clamped down on her arm and reeled her back until they were face to face.

“What are you doing? Let’s get out of here and find this witch bitch!”

“I had more practice as a wolf. It’s more intense but it’s not much different,” Hope told her.

Lizzie clenched her jaw, then bit out. “Good for you, you’re special. Let’s get out of here.”

“New lesson. Feel the rain.”

Lizzie stared at Hope incredulously, “What?! We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?”

Hope was expressionless, but her eyes glinted in the remaining light. “I can’t have a partner who bails when they’re rained on, especially if we’re fighting some kind of weather witch.”

“Are you serious?!”

Hope raised both of her eyebrows. “I could make  you.”

And once again, Lizzie felt there were two wars inside her, the one that hated the reminder Lizzie was tethered to Hope that, if Hope wanted to, she could order Lizzie to follow her every command. The second fire within burned steadily with the thought she would never be alone in her new immortal life. “Fine.”

Hope released her arm then offered her hand, palm up. “Remember when you told me to let it go?”

“You want me to scream?”

Hope shook her head. The wind whipped around them but Hope was the center of the storm, calm and unyielding and somehow that tethered Lizzie.

Reluctantly, Lizzie took Hope’s hand. “What do you want me to do, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“Focus on the sound of my voice." Hope started, "And concentrate on the air in your lungs and the ground beneath you. Everything feels painful now, but that’s because all your senses are heightened and you just have to adjust to it.”

Lizzie snorted, “That’s easy for you to say—“

Hope squeezed Lizzie’s hand. “I know. It's painful and, of course, you want to run because you think that’s all you can take, but you’re one of the toughest bitches I know, next to me. But if you let it all in, feel everything and allow it to pass through you. Then everything will feel different, feel better.”

Lizzie was taken aback, Hope sounded sincere; more sincere than the time Hope tricked Lizzie into believing she had her humanity back. This more than anything made Lizzie believe in Hope. She sounded like the Hope she used to know and love. (There's really no running away from that, it was a fact now. As mortifying it was to have said it and not have it acknowledged. Lizzie Saltzman doesn't do take-backs).

“Okay,” Lizzie said. She flinched at the next sound of thunder and then closed her eyes. Opened her senses up to nature, to the wind around them.

“You feel things with greater intensity now. The colors are brighter and more vibrant, the wind sharper but that's a gift and not a curse.”

She breathed in the air and felt the ground beneath her, the cool grounding touch of Hope’s hand. Slowly, the raindrops stopped feeling like pebbles falling on her skin.

“See?” Hope continued, “Not so bad now.”

Lizzie opened her eyes, blinking twice to keep water from her eyes, and stared at Hope. They’d just fed an hour ago, and Hope’s cheeks were still rosy. “It worked.”

Thunder and lightning still raged overhead but it didn’t hurt to hear anymore.

“Of course, it worked.” Hope said with a smirk, “I told you, I’m a great teacher.”

“I get it Hope, you’re some kind of vampire prodigy. You’re my Yoda.”

“Ew." Hope wrinkled her nose. She was wet as a drowned rat and she still looked adorable. It wasn't fair. "I thought I was Obi-Wan.”

Lizzie pulled her hand away and Hope let her. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you quoted Dune.”

Hope looked startled. “What?”

“‘Allow it to pass through you.’? C’mon, the Litany of Fear?  Dune  with Frank H-- er, Timothy Chalamet and Zendaya?”

“Timothée . And I didn't quote Dune, nerd.”

Lizzie gasped, she might have embraced her inner geek, but she still felt offended at being called out like this. “Says the... other nerd!”

“I thought you wanted to get out of here?” Hope turned toward the direction where they parked the car.

There was a sharp gust of wind and controlled vampire senses or not. It was still cold and Lizzie shivered. “Let’s get out of here and hunt this bad witch down.”