#smolbi wan Tumblr posts

[eli-workshop]

Accomplished my duty as an introvert by drawing ObiMaul at the party tonight

[taz80390]

I did a thing! Smolbi-Wan sleepwalks to some of our fave Mandos

[ao3feed-obikin]

Wings of Freedom

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/43851951 by Mithril_and_Acorns Big luminous eyes glanced up, starlight glimmering in their depths and soft, pink lips that resembled the bud of a flower curled into a small bemused smile. Ani felt his stomach flop in response, especially at the faint flicker of surprise and curiosity that echoed in the Force. There was an inquisitive tug on his bond with Master Jinn, but he ignored it. Constellations painted across pale skin highlighted by the pale green sweater they wore, made their eyes shine even prettier and Anakin couldn’t help the bright blush that worked its way across his cheeks. There was an angel sitting in front of him. Or on a routine mission to the Senate, Ani stumbles upon an Angel and learns more about Republic Policy than he’d ever thought he’d want to know. A senator accidentally gains a kiffar shadow. And all is right with the galaxy. Words: 8198, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Senate!Obi AUs Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn, Original Characters, Feemor (Star Wars) Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Original Character(s), Quinlan Vos & Original Male Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Young Obi-Wan Kenobi, Smolbie-Wan Kenobi, Smol!Obi-Wan, Smol!Obi, Kid Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cute Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cutie-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Not a Jedi, Mute Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Like a Disney Princess, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Young Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker Has a Crush, Anakin Skywalker Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Everybody Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Galactic Senate (Star Wars), Galactic Republic (Star Wars), Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars), Tatooine Slavery (Star Wars), Antislavery Committee (Star Wars), Alternate Timelines, Timeline What Timeline, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Died a Fiery Death on Mustafar, Qui-Gon Jinn Bashing, Qui-Gon Jinn is a Disaster, Oblivious Qui-Gon Jinn, Original Character(s), Shmi Skywalker Deserves Better, Shmi Skywalker Lives, Parental Shmi Skywalker, Senate!Obi, Senate Aide Obi-Wan Kenobi read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/43851951

[the-last-kenobi]

for @calltomuster, because I don’t have the next chapter of How Qui-Gon Accidentally Adopted a Baby ready yet, but I thought you might enjoy this <3

*

“No,” said Qui-Gon flatly. “I don’t do babies.”

“Qui-Gon, be reasonable. The crèche needs extra hands,” said Tahl. “It’s just for a few days.”

“No,” he said again. “I don’t do babies.”

Tahl sighed at him and narrowed those green-gold eyes. “You’re extremely unhelpful.”

“When I want to be?” he teased.

“No. All the time.”

~

“Don’t even start with me, Mace,” Qui-Gon said, not so much as glancing up from his food. Windu paused a few feet away from the table, his own plate in his hand.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I was just coming to break bread with you. That’s what the commissary is for, you know, food and fellowship.”

“And nagging me to help out in the crèche?” Qui-Gon guessed. He stabbed at a veg with unnecessary force. “There are other Masters that are on mission-leave that don’t have Padawans, you know!”

“Yes. There are forty-two of them. Of that number, sixteen are on teaching rotations, thirteen have already volunteered time to assist the crèche, nine are injured to the point of being unable to help for the time being, two announced their intentions to take a Padawan this week, one is leaving for meditative retreat leading up to retirement, and the other is Pong Krell.”

Qui-Gon could not contain a slight grimace. “Ah.”

“Yes,” Mace rolled his eyes. “‘Ah.’”

“Still,” said Qui-Gon. “Surely—”

“Expect your duties to begin tomorrow morning,” said Mace loudly, and despite his previous claim, he did not sit beside Qui-Gon but stalked off with his food.

~

Qui-Gon lasted an hour after leaving his rooms that morning. Just as he started to relax, someone brushed against his shoulder, and he turned.

“Here, hold this,” said Mace, and then dumped something in Qui-Gon’s arms and speed walked out of the room.

Leaving Qui-Gon holding a baby.

“Windu!” Qui-Gon shouted, knowing full well it was too late for protests. He bit back a curse on instinct. Babies couldn’t understand curse words, right? But it was still bad etiquette to use them in a baby’s presence. That didn’t make much sense.

Then again, as he paused to study the chubby cheeks, the fluffy golden-red hair, and the enormous blue eyes, he reconsidered. It was probably criminal to swear in front of this particular baby.

“Hello,” he said cautiously, holding the child out in midair at eye level and trying not to freak out.

The baby said something like “Bahbuhlabuhbleeeebohbaaagabuh” and wiggled its feet happily in the air, seeming unbothered.

“Oh, this is not good,” said Qui-Gon.

~

“I don’t do babies!” Qui-Gon yelled. Well, whispered very loudly. It was terribly rude to yell when there was a baby sleeping in the next room. “Why did he just hand me a baby? I thought he wanted me to help out in the crèche!”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi has unstable Force visions,” Tahl said calmly. “He’s unhappy and poorly rested unless he’s got a Master bonded to him. You’re strong in the Living Force. It will help balance him out.”

“You gave me a whole baby with no warning based on a guess?!”

“Yoda’s guess,” she shrugged. “And he was right. Obi-Wan’s sleeping.”

“I don’t do babies,” Qui-Gon mumbled under his breath, and turned to find the warmer for the baby’s next bottle.

Tahl grinned.

~

“Has anyone seen Jinn?” one of the Councilors fretted. “We left a child in his care and nobody seems to have seen him in the last four days!”

“He’ll be here,” said another. “He can’t wait for his next mission. He’s probably dropping the child off in the crèche as fast as he possibly can.”

Yoda said nothing, but he leaned on his stick and smiled, his ears rising curiously.

The doors to the chamber opened, and in walked a tall Jedi Master, his robes as untidy as ever, with the addition of a fruity blended drink in one hand, a baby bottle in the other, and soft blue blanket over one shoulder with a small child curled fast asleep against it, his small face buried in the Jedi’s neck.

“Umm... what’s that you’ve got there, Qui-Gon?” Mace asked into the stunned silence.

Qui-Gon looked confused. “A smoothie,” he said, holding up his drink.

~

The doors closed behind Jinn, who had his attention occupied by the child whimpering in his arms, haven just woken up from his nap.

“...is he allowed to do that?” someone asked. “Just... drop off the mission roster and raise a child?”

“Does it matter?” Mace had his head in his hands, looking like he was fighting off a migraine. “It’s Qui-Gon Jinn. He does what he wants.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“What a liar,” he added under his breath. “‘I don’t do babies,’ my ass.”

*

[nightshaed3]

The moon is beautiful, isn't it?

[shukruut]

smolbi-wan being a tiny menace

[quiobizine]

Today’s Contributor Spotlight is on this cute, wide-eyed Smolbi-Wan by artist @purpuddle

Purpuddle Tumblr │ Twitter

[whitefriartuck]

Look at the next Star Wars The Black Series 6″ Wave!

Aphra, Ezra, Chopper, Smolbi Wan, 0-0-0, BT-1!

[onlyhopc]

▸▸ I have... some issues with the ‘Age of Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi’ comic but, on the whole, it’s so nice to have some Obi-Wan content again. I like how it mentioned he was identified as ‘Force sensitive’ at a young age and taken to Coruscant, mainly because that matches with my own headcanons. (I said there was enforced blood testing post-birth on Stewjon). I also like the potential panel of Smolbi-Wan - he looks so adorable, I was hoping for some little flashbacks. I was hoping for something a bit... well, less Anakin-focused since he has an issue later on in the ‘Age of Republic’ series. It read very similarly to the ‘Obi-Wan & Anakin’ series, but with... not as pretty artwork. Even the mullet was the same. I was disappointed in the regard it felt like a rehashed version of the older series, it even had Obi-Wan turning to Yoda for advice on Anakin’s path? It was just... I’ve seen this all before.

Obi-Wan admitting his insecurities about training Anakin to Anakin is genuinely so sweet and it’s nice to see him open up about it? But I don’t know if they’re kind-of... over-stepping some things there in terms of canon? Just because if Obi-Wan had opened up more, it would probably have enticed Anakin to open up more too. Still, it’s a lovely thing to see and it’s nice to see the writers picked up on the same insecurities as me (aka how could he be a Master when he failed as a Padawan). 

Anakin’s little suggestion of ‘we’ll save each other’ makes my heart ache. I love stuff like that, just cementing how they were a team. Also Obi-Wan’s note ‘perhaps the Master is meant to be as much a student as the Padawan’ was very apt. Obi-Wan is also pretty supportive and encouraging of Anakin, and I’m glad we’re bringing that back into new canon. For a while, it seemed like they were going to make out Obi-Wan had been a shit Master to Anakin.

So, yeah, not as good as I was hoping. But still a nice little read

[the-last-kenobi]

I... I wrote a thing... goddamnit...

Based on this post

All credit and love to @latenightsomewhere and @americankimchi for the idea!

(keep in mind this is not canon compliant. I have aged Obi-Wan down to ten, for one thing. I wanted smolbi-wan💕 and dammit, that’s what I wrote.)

___

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

Then again, that was something that could be said after all missions. “It was supposed to be simple,” Jedi would say, shaking their heads ruefully. “Simple.”

They had known they were walking into unpleasant territory.

The Outer Rim was safe for no one — least of all Force-sensitives.

Least of all, Qui-Gon reflected, gripping the hilt of his lightsaber so tightly that he could feel the ridges carving lines into his palms, least of all young Jedi Padawans. Who had training. Who had skills. Who carried kyber in their sabers.

Like Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon hadn’t quite realized what had happened— not at first — not with his head ringing with the force of the blunt instrument someone had slammed against his head during the scuffle. He had dragged himself to his knees, first, heaving for breath, then slowly rose to his feet, breathing deeply to chase away the nausea.

And then he had discovered he was alone.

Completely alone.

The slavers were gone, and so was his ten-year-old apprentice—

They took him, he thought, stunned. They took him right from under me, where he should have been safest. I didn’t leave him alone on the ship for a reason, but they took him—

As he reeled, flashes of memory started to filter back through the confusion.

Obi-Wan had been behind him, shielded — and then they were unexpectedly surrounded, outnumbered by what was clearly more than a roving pack of criminals — Obi-Wan had ignited his saber and fought back — Qui-Gon had dropped with a blow to the head, and he heard — shouting —

— a startled cry, a thin and high-pitched voice — a muffled scream, a child’s scared voice —

“Master!”

And a powerful fury rose up inside Qui-Gon, both focused and wild, and he did not feel inclined to subdue it.

•

“It’s not natural, is it,” complained one of the group, a young nautolan with grey skin. “Look at him.”

“Shut up,” one of the others said, shooting a slightly wary look in the direction the first was gesturing.

“He’s a kid,” a third said dismissively. This was easily the most eye-catching of the group, an enormous burly Besalisk that was even taller than Master Krell. “And he’s drugged. He can’t do anything. Forget him.”

“He’s a fucking menace is what he is,” the first muttered.

Obi-Wan grinned at them, a slightly manic expression. This was not helped by the blood streaked through his ginger-blonde hair, or the gag they had tied tightly around his mouth.

He said something to them, muffled by the cloth.

“What?” the Besalisk suddenly turned from dismissive to angry.

“Leave him, he’s just being—” one of the others began, but the enormous reptilian humanoid shook his head violently, stalking towards their captive.

“I asked what you said,” he repeated.

Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes, gesturing towards the gag with his bound hands. The nautolan looked gobsmacked at his nerve.

The Besalisk rumbled low in his throat and jerked the cloth roughly out of the boy’s mouth, catching painfully on his lower lip as he did.

Obi-Wan winced and blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“What did you say?” his antagonist repeated.

“I said,” Obi-Wan answered, staring plaintively up at the much taller creature, “you’re going to be very sorry when my Master catches up with you.”

The Besalisk laughed, but it was not a happy sound. One by one the others all joined in, although some more hesitantly than others.

“Your Master didn’t put up much of a fight,” the kidnapper goaded him. “And even if he could, he’d have to put in a lot of work to find you. I don’t think he’ll bother, do you?” He leered. “He’s a Jedi. He’s got a job on his hands, and you come second.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered.

Then he smiled. “I was wondering something earlier, but you just answered my question for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said, mocking the elder’s drawling accent. “You made it obvious that yes, you are exactly as stupid as you look.”

Several of the slavers gaped.

“Or even stupider,” Obi-Wan added.

There was a bellow of rage, and an enormous fist collided with the boy’s face, leaving grooves up his cheek and forehead that were none too shallow. The gag was forced back into his mouth.

Obi-Wan went back to smiling manically at anyone who looked his way.

•

It took Qui-Gon three and a half standard days to find who had taken his apprentice and where they had gone.

Every minute of those three and half days were spent utterly focused; healthy amounts of sleep were sacrificed in exchange for tracking down information and planning his rescue.

And every minute was also spent with quiet thoughts murmuring in the back of his mind, where not even Jedi calm could quiet them.

They could have moved him again.

They could have had a buyer waiting for the next Force-sensitive they managed to catch.

They’re hurting him. They’re hurting him right now and you’re nowhere near enough to help.

And, perhaps the most quiet, most desperate truth in his heart — If I lose this one, there will be no coming back for me.

•

Obi-Wan bit the hand in front of his face.

The slaver yelped, somehow not expecting the attack despite what Obi-Wan considered fair warning in the form of a venomous glare before the gag had been removed.

“Little brat!” the slaver hissed, shaking his damaged hand that the apprentice was a little pleased to see was bleeding.

“Get him up,” one of the others snapped. “We’re taking him to the deep market tonight, and he needs his attitude fixed first.”

“Not likely,” the ten-year-old said cheerfully. “I was an incorrigible child and my mentor is not exactly—”

He was struck again.

“That’s getting kind of repetitive,” complained Obi-Wan, kicking his bound feet a bit where they hung a foot off the floor, trying to get the blood flowing. “And the same side every time, too. I’m going to get permanent damage and then how much will I be worth?”

“He’s gotta point,” said the newcomer unhelpfully.

The one who had been bitten scowled mightily, then sneered down at his captive, a mean little gleam in his eyes that the boy did not like the look of.

A moment later, a hand closed tight around the boy’s throat, right above the thin collar that had been set there, rigged to blow if he managed to flee.

Obi-Wan choked and began to struggle.

The hand squeezed tighter. “The punishment should fit the crime,” the male mused aloud. “And it’s your back talk that’s going to get you in trouble with your new master, and lower your value on the auction block. Seems fair to get rid of your voice, then.”

The other slaver watched appraisingly. “Just don’t kill ‘im, Frid.”

“Course not,” said the man who was evidently Frid, watching with vindictive pleasure as Obi-Wan writhed weakly, his face turning white and then blue.

Obi-Wan was dropped.

He gasped, his breath rattling in his constricted throat, and kept his head down this time.

This is why Master always says I need to redirect that urge to talk back, he reflected, feeling a little queasy. He’s not going to be happy about my injuries at this rate.

•

Qui-Gon was no stranger to bypassing the local authorities on the planets he visited. He was notorious for it, in fact.

This time, he had chosen to work with the authorities — and then ditched them at the last minute.

Now everything was as legal and tidy as he cared to make it, and the government would be able to arrest and shut down the entire operation, over the course of mere weeks if they were focused about it.

...After Qui-Gon had gone in after his apprentice.

He was quiet and careful about his approach, stealing his way into the underground warehouse that was the gateway to the infamous black market of the planet, a place where spice and banned items were passed from hand to hand — and sentient beings, too.

He could sense his Padawan, albeit barely.

Drugged, most likely.

Sustained exposure to Force suppressants could kill him.

Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, Jinn followed his instincts down several flights of stairs and down a hallway, listening intently.

Bang.

A door flew open to his left, and he melted into the shadows as two figures emerged, one a hulking Besalisk with a permanent scowl and the other a gangly human male with very scruffy hair.

“—not my responsibility,” the human was complaining. “I didn’t sign up for dealing with him. I didn’t even catch him.”

“I did,” the Besalisk grunted. “Little whelp. Squirmed around like a worm on a hook and wouldn’t stop fucking screaming. He would’ve alerted the whole neighborhood just moving him from where we picked him up to the truck.”

“Why didn’t you just gag him?” the human laughed.

“Didn’t have anything to do it with,” the other shrugged. “Tried using my hand and the brat damn near snapped his own neck trying to scream anyways.”

They chuckled a bit.

Qui-Gon held his breath, both wanting and not at all wanting them to be discussing who he thought they were—

“What do the bosses expect us to do, work miracles?” the human went back to complaining. “I hear he’s a spitfire. And they want him ready for sale, in what, three hours?”

The Besalisk grinned. “Three hours is plenty of time. Frid told me that smacking the kid around doesn’t do much good, but he half-strangled him earlier and that shut him up. Jedi whelp.”

And there it was.

It was all the evidence Qui-Gon needed.

The two slavers turned around in alarm when they heard the distinctive hiss-snap of a lightsaber igniting.

All they caught a glimpse of was a towering figure seemingly appearing out of thin air, his expression serene but his eyes blazing, an emerald blade glowing in his hands, and then they were down for the count.

•

Obi-Wan decided that lying facedown on the floor was the better part of valor for the moment.

He was sore and bruised and scratched, and his throat was swollen while his neck chafed against the collar, and he could no longer tell if the nausea was caused by the drugs in his system or from being mistreated.

They had forgone the cloth gag in favor of sealing his lips shut with tape, which Obi-Wan considered a compliment to his ability to annoy them, but it also hindered his ability to breathe.

The slaver standing over him was dusting his hands off rather gleefully.

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut and wished very very hard, knowing that even without being able to touch it, the Force was with him—

And like a miracle, the door swung open, and there was his wish.

The slaver didn’t stand a chance. He only had time to let out an undignified squawk of surprise before he was flying into the ceiling, smacking into a rafter with undue force and then dropping neatly onto a nearby cot that rattled under his weight.

Obi-Wan sighed and let his eyes drift closed.

The man in the doorway was at his side in an instant.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, then slid upwards to touch his neck, looking for signs of life, examining his damaged throat.

Then, very carefully, the tape was peeled away from his mouth.

Obi-Wan smiled into the cold flooring and forced himself to open his eyes again.

“Hullo, Master,” he murmured.

•

Qui-Gon had thought, for one heart-stopping moment, when he had reached Obi-Wan just in time to watch him close his eyes and go limp—

But he was awake, now, those enormous bright blue eyes twinkling up at him out of a battered face.

“Hullo, Master,” said a very small, hoarse voice.

“Hello, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said softly, running his hand up and down the boy’s back, unnerved by how chilled he was to the touch. “How does a warm shower and some proper sleep sound?”

Obi-Wan pretended to think about it, and Qui-Gon had to fight down a laugh at his antics, even now. “Do I have to see healers first?”

“Yes,” answered the Master. “But I believe I can manage to have them release you quickly. We’re leaving for Coruscant tonight; we can sleep on the ship.”

“Oh, all right,” said Obi-Wan, but he didn’t move.

“Can you stand?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Possibly.”

There was another pause, then: “...not really.”

Without another word, Qui-Gon stood, scooping the boy into his arms as he did, cradling his head against one shoulder. Obi-Wan murmured something that he didn’t quite catch.

They moved out of the room and into the hallway, then began to make their way back out of the warehouse. Qui-Gon was stepping over bodies as he went... most of them merely unconscious.

He spotted the scruffy-haired man who had been laughing about the screaming Jedi whelp, and didn’t begrudge himself for trodding accidentally on the man’s outstretched fingers as he passed.

“I... am sorry, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said heavily. “I should have protected you better.”

The ginger head shifted; the boy murmured something vague into his tunics again and then said softly, “It wasn’t your fault, Master. Besides...” he winced as they crossed beneath a bright light that threw the injuries on his face into glaring relief that made Qui-Gon’s stomach clench with self-recrimination. “...I knew you would come for me.”

And those seven little words did a great deal to ease the rage and guilt still swirling inside the tired Jedi Master.

“Always, Padawan,” he said quietly. “Always.”

Obi-Wan was asleep in his arms by the time they emerged into the twilight, surrounded by the movement of law enforcement as they swarmed upon the compound, and therefore he didn’t know it when Qui-Gon, near-shaking as the adrenaline of the past several, stressful days began to fade, murmured: “Thank the Force for you, little one.” And pressed a soft kiss to the sleeping head.

[the-last-kenobi]

people were sad/enraged with me for all the death fics so I asked my friend for a prompt to end with fluff and she gave me: waking up safe

It was utterly dark.

The kind of dark that only resides in deep-and-far-away places, in burrows and caves deep beneath the earth, in corridors so long-forgotten that there were no footprints in inches of dust.

The kind of dark that made one wonder if one had gone blind.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly. Blearily at first, hardly realizing he was going it, and then more deliberately, widening his sleep-dry eyes in an attempt to see. But it was only dark upon dark, perfect black, a deep unbroken cloak across the world.

It was so still. He couldn’t sense what was in front of his face, if anything. He could be staring at a wall an inch from the tip of the nose he couldn’t see, or he could be gazing into a void.

The endless, strange possibilities began to rear their hideous heads like monsters from under the beds of children, but before they could coalesce into something worth being afraid of, Obi-Wan registered other things, too.

It was very warm.

He was lying on something both soft and hard, bulky and comfortable. His whole body was pressed against it, enveloped in what he realized dimly were two strong arms. The fabric of his cloak hood rustled around his ears, fallen down to pool around his neck, and beneath his cheek he felt the equally familiar, slightly softer and more well-worn texture of a different cloak, one that smelled of standard-issue soap and evergreens and warm soil and something strangely spicy that he dimly associated with mugs of hot tea.

Obi-Wan felt his head rise and fall slightly against that warmth and that familiar cloak, and heard a steady heartbeat somewhere in the depths.

The endless darkness went on unbroken, but somehow too it also shrank away just as easily as if someone had lit a candle, chased away by the warmth and the comfort of the heavy arms and the smell of tea leaves and soil.

Obi-Wan curled a little further onto his side, feeling his booted foot bump another booted foot.

There was a slight hitch in the warm breaths that he only now registered were ghosting across the top of his head, stirring his hair.

The arms cradling him close tightened ever so slightly. A thumb rubbed absently up and down, small soothing motions against his elbow, an instinctive attempt to comfort and cherish.

With a tiny sigh, Obi-Wan let his eyes flutter shut, heedless of the unknown and the dark, quite content to sleep a little longer in Qui-Gon’s arms.

Utterly safe.

~