#that's NOT obikin- don't tag it

[thekenobee]

[politicalprocrastinator]

it's genuinely not CGI he can just do that apparently

[balamist]

eepy

[mayhemspreadingguy]

teething-puppy.png

A gift for my beloved @magnusbae ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡).

[wreckedhoney]

still thinking about that bts shot "looks like Obi wan has hijacked Anakin and padme's honeymoon" and the tag "#necessary third party obi-wan kenobi my beloved. invited to the honeymoon the way a couple would bring their dog with them" and imagining a universe where soon-to-be-newlyweds anidala just let themselves (particularly anakin lbr) be weird with it early on. padmé recognizes that anakin is enamored and Not Normal about obi-wan, anakin grapples with what obi-wan really means to him, and the way this is executed is, naturally, to kidnap obi-wan, but like softly. like clumsily dropping a frog into water already boiling.

Obi-wan, come with us, we just want to share something with you very quickly. Yes, of course, Senator, Anakin, what is it exactly? and boom, it's their wedding. obi-wan standing as witness with the droids thinking, No…Are they serious? But why? But I'll have to snitch though. Is that the plan? Do they want me to snitch? but as soon as the ceremony is done they each take him by the arms, and start walking. What is the meaning of this, he says, and Do you know you'll have to leave the Order, Anakin, and Where are we going? obi-wan gradually feeling more panicked while padmé tries for pleasantries and anakin tries for apologies and promises that he'll take care of the issue on his own, and soon enough obi-wan realizes that they and padmé's attendants are leading him quite forcefully towards a craft. Oh, you'll love it there, padmé says. Where? obi-wan doesn't ask shrilly. Help, he says next, to someone they pass by, but he isn't sure exactly how or from what yet and so the plea doesn't come across as serious enough to act on. It'll be a good place to help you relax, anakin consoles. Where? obi-wan asks again. everyone is now inside the craft. they do not let go of his arms. Unhand me, he says, probably calmly, except no one does. surely he's not actually in any danger. WHERE are we GOING, Anakin- and the craft is up. the land he sees out the window appears farther and farther away. he's considering breaking and jumping right out of the window. anakin holds onto him tighter. Are you going to kill me to keep me quiet, obi-wan asks, because he has always been eloquent and clear. Of course not, anakin answers, and with an odd inflection adds, We're going to our honeymoon.

OUR honeymoon…?

Our honeymoon, it's confirmed, matter-of-factly.

in a few hours, obi-wan will be facing a beautiful shore, and whether or not he is anywhere close to relaxing is, well, up in the air.

BONUS: it doesn't take long for obi-wan to feel less like an outsider and more like it really is a honeymoon, one that he's an unwilling participant of, not separate but wholly part of it. the romantic dinners, the stay-in holovid nights, and perhaps most crucially, the scenic stroll on the beach.

except what "stroll on the beach" truly means is obi-wan is making his best attempt at an escape yet, gunning full-sprint on the shore where anakin's most hated type of surface should come in obi-wan's favor. still, anakin and a handful of attendants and droids are at his heels, but obi-wan is able to make it to a boat, one that could reach the shipyard, and he starts it before any of his pursuers can climb aboard as well. It's over, Anakin, he'll scream from his position at the wheel, because he can see the stubborn gleam in anakin's eyes. I have the high ground - which is to say, the boat's dock is too high for anakin to jump without the risk of obi-wan disrupting his landing in some way. and yet- anakin makes the leap, hurling high and far, reaching over the dock- where obi-wan throws the rope that the boat came with so that it tangles around anakin's legs and he stacks it. obi-wan quickly tries to wrestle the other so he can toss him over the side while simultaneously undoing the tangle so anakin doesn't just, like, drown.

it doesn't work, and as soon as anakin is free, they wrestle one another on a moving boat that neither of them are steering. You were the chosen one, obi-wan begins to roar, frustrations at last reaching a peak. You were supposed to bring balance to the force, not- not whatever this is-! ("this" being bring obi-wan to a holiday against his will to form an obtrusively romantic attachment post-"illegal marriage" while convincing him not to snitch; very unbalanced) at which point anakin may respond with something equally frazzled and dramatic as they pause to catch their breathes, something like, I hate you, and You always do this, to which obi-wan might say something like, Do what?

This! You never just let yourself go, you never let yourself be with who you love and admit you love them, and obi-wan might give an exasperated sigh that sounds like he's reconsidering the not-drowning and say, Anakin, i do love- love you, I never hid that- and anakin would likely cut him off to clarify that he doesn't mean that love, the one he can tell obi-wan is talking about, that generic and too-distant love that insists he always keep anakin and all else at arms length. he wants more than that, he has always wanted more than that. the kind of love that padmé tries and is willing to give him. the kind he's learned he wants from obi-wan and has for quite some time.

which is, of course, all well and good, and all things that need to be said; the beginning of a conversation and road that will take time for them to navigate now that the situation has come to this kind of head. still, it doesn't stop obi-wan from taking advantage of anakin being momentarily caught up in the moment. he has since before the start of the confession gone back to steering the boat to the honeymoon's exit.

once it's noticed and before obi-wan can try to get a word in response, anakin lunges.

[gretchenzellerbarnes]

for the love of star wars please stop tagging your ship hate with that ships name where all the people who want to ship their ship in peace can see it

[magnusbae]

shaking at 5am, spent the past two days getting back into obikin, reading a 50k fic, drawing for 12 hours, talking to any soul that would listen— and now writing this snip of hurt/comfort— ObiKin 506w 😭😭😭

▾▾▾

Obi-Wan is used to Anakin asking for more than a Padawan should, more than a Jedi-Knight, more than a Jedi should, period.

There would be times Anakin pushes the boundaries between them, providing the most bizarre excuses for his inappropriate behaviour, excuses to which Obi-Wan has a hard time not replying with 'Really Anakin, this?' excuses Obi-Wan still accepts, accepts and pretends to understand. Excuses he needs to preserve his own integrity as a Jedi while still giving Anakin what he wants, what he needs.

Sometimes, Anakin says nothing.

Sometimes there's no clever excuses or witty jokes. Sometimes, Anakin is silent, sometimes, Anakin just takes what he wants, what he needs.

Obi-Wan always gives, never rejects Anakin when he truly needs it.

And tonight, weary from endless battles, with the blood of hundreds on his lightsaber, Anakin needs it.

So when Anakin crawls into Obi-Wan's bed, smelling of smoke and blood, unshowered and filthy- he says nothing.

Obi-Wan doesn't so much stir, allowing the boy-turned-man, wrap his strong arms around him, doesn't even flinch when Anakin squeezes so tight it's crossing the uncomfortable into the painful rather swiftly.

Obi-Wan allows it. Allows Anakin to bury his face in his nape, allows the ragged inhales, allows the seeking, desperate feeling of Anakin's force signature against his own— but when Anakin shakes with it, with the burden he carries, Obi-Wan cannot pretend to miss it.

"Oh, dear one" he says, voice quiet, saddened. He shifts, and Anakin freezes, his hold loosening immediately. Anakin couldn't have missed that he was awake, of course he didn't. He simply didn't expect Obi-Wan to acknowdlge what he was doing, didn't expect him to...

"Come here," Obi-Wan says, turning fully, facing Anakin in the darkness of the room, lifting an arm and creating a space for Anakin to get into. If he chooses to, that is.

Anakin doesn't even pretend to consider it. He launches forward like a starved thing, desperate for warmth and acceptance, needing it in ways that are being his ability to hide, to mask.

"Master—" the sound of his voice is torn, borderline inhuman. "Master..." he chokes, more quietly, more ragged.

Anakin's shoulders shake with it, and if Obi-Wan feels wetness at his neck, he would never speak of it to a living soul.

"I know" Obi-Wan whispers, wrapping his arm securely about his once-Padawan, pulling him flat against himself, his free hand at the back of his head. "I know." he repeats, soothing him, stroking at his hair with patience, with care.

"I'm here." He breathes out, eyes closed.

This war is rough on this one. Regardless of his natural talent and skill, despite his bravado and cockiness. It's rough on him.

On all of them.

"Sleep, Anakin." he murmurs once the shaking finally subsides "It's okay you sleep" he speaks on, knowing Anakin hardly pays attention to the words anymore, only the tone matters. "Sleep, dear one" he says into his hair, smelling the death in it and inhaling anyways.

Anakin sleeps, despite it all, he does.

[tragedy-for-sale]

Left Me with You

Anakin hated when he took away Obi-Wan's happiness, even if it was just pretend.

Sad Obi-Wan is just my favorite thing to write. Apparently. This fic is kinda long and is already up on my Ao3.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

It wasn't often that Obi-Wan and Anakin got to go on meditative retreat together. But even then, as Obi-Wan sat in the field, eyes closed and legs crossed, he could feel it within him, Anakin would be happier if he wasn't here. Obi-Wan opened his eyes, brows furrowed and a concerned frown. He wished he could talk to Anakin about it, but talking wasn't something they did. Obi-Wan wondered of all Anakin would say, if he could speak openly of his love, Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of Anakin, the sparkle of love in his eyes. The sparkle of life. But that smile didn't last long, Anakin would never tell him all about his love, and Obi-Wan would never ask. He wouldn't ruin Anakin's happiness, it was such a rare thing, and Obi-Wan never wanted Anakin to go without it, not if he didn't have to.

Obi-Wan stood up, wrapping his robe around him as he started back to the small vacation home Padme had so graciously allowed them to stay in. He walked among the wildflowers, but he didn't stop to pick a few. They were beautiful, but the moment he touched them, the moment he plucked them from their home, they would die, the moment Obi-Wan touched those beautiful flowers, they would die. So he kept walking, he let them live, he would not touch them, and he would live because Obi-Wan didn't go anywhere near them.

Reaching the house, he took off his sandals and walked into the kitchen. He looked on the counter and saw a vase. Obi-Wan felt as if he'd been struck, those flowers, those beautiful flowers that Obi-Wan had been so tempted to kneel down beside, to take in the smell of spring, to pluck them from their home for his own selfish desires. Those beautiful flowers were impossible not to notice, and now they were on full display as they died- "Hey Obi-Wan," it was Anakin's voice, but Obi-Wan could not stop the ringing in his head long enough to focus, "-picked the flowers-" The sound of flickering embers. "-They're really nice, they smell really good-" he would've led such a meaningful life. "Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked up, he found Anakin, "Oh, Anakin," a familiar smile found its way to Obi-Wan's face as he walked over and smelled the flowers, 'I'm so sorry, Master-' he closed his eyes, the smell of spring, early morning rainfall and late night firefly catching. He opened his eyes, "How was the lake?"

Anakin's own smile flickered on his face, but if Obi-Wan didn't want to talk, they wouldn't. Talking wasn't something they did. "It was nice, Master." Anakin remembered fondly, "The water was cool but in the sun," Anakin chuckled, "Man, I almost fell asleep, that's why I came back," Anakin opened the fridge with the intention of finding a snack but he couldn't help his thoughts wandering and lingering on Obi-Wan. Even though they hadn't even been remotely close, Anakin could sense his Master's sorrow. He'd worried about this. He hadn't wanted Obi-Wan to come to Naboo, Anakin had asked Obi-Wan if he'd want to go somewhere else, anywhere else but here. Anakin could sense it since the moment they arrived, Obi-Wan would be happier if he wasn't here.

"Master," Anakin's voice seemed on edge, it certainly caught Obi-Wan's attention, for Anakin could sense Obi-Wan straightening up and crossing his arms. Prepared to ricochet any shots.

"Yes, Anakin?" But his voice was soft, giving nothing away, not his fear, not his anger, not his sorrow. Obi-Wan was always so good at pretending, but Anakin knew that for all of Obi-Wan's confidence, he didn't really mean it.

"We're still gonna be here in four days," Anakin could dance around the point, that was how it worked. Neither one of them dared to look the other in the eye, for both were far too afraid to address all the damage they'd done to the other.

"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan nodded, walking over to the cabinet and looking at the tea. He was so good at that. "Do you want a cup of tea?" He wasn't going to give in, he couldn't.

Anakin nodded, maybe he should drop it, but how could he ignore Obi-Wan's trembling hands? "Master," Anakin said again, Obi-Wan turned, that knowing smile on his face. "It'll be twelve years..."

Obi-Wan felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, the mug became impossibly heavy he could only put it down. His stomach twisted in knots as he struggled to turn to meet Anakin's gaze, "Yes," He mustered out, but his voice trembled. Every year, from the first year to today, Obi-Wan was never any better, he never missed Qui-Gon any less. Obi-Wan resigned, bowing his head, looking down at the counter, "Why do you bring it up?"

Anakin might as well of gut punched Obi-Wan then and there, that would hurt less. He looked at his master, hunched over, fists clenched Anakin could see the white of his knuckles, stray hairs hiding his face and his shoulders tense. He shouldn't have said anything. They didn't talk about things like this, this was why, Anakin. "-When I lost my mother," Anakin's throat went dry, he found it so hard to speak. "When she died-" he looked away, "I can't remember what she sounds like," Anakin wanted to laugh, if only to show Obi-Wan he was okay. "I don't remember her laugh or that song she'd sing while doing laundry, even though she sang it every time she did the-" Anakin hung his head, oh- Oh. What had he done?

Obi-Wan looked up through his hair, he looked terribly alone. "Anakin..." Obi-Wan walked over to Anakin, reaching out his hand, but Anakin remembered the point of all this pain.

"-I still think about my mother, so I know you still think of Qui-Gon." Anakin's voice was quiet, but Obi-Wan heard, like blaster fire, it was all he could hear, it was deafening.

It might've taken Anakin losing his own mother to realize the root of all those tears Obi-Wan cried. He remembered those first few weeks, Obi-Wan was sad all the time, he'd cry after he'd put Anakin to bed, he'd cry after meetings with the council, he'd cry, hand covering his mouth as he realized he was really pathetic. To still not be alright, to still be crying months after. To always be sad. Anakin knew now, Obi-Wan felt like a scared little kid, so he'd cry, he'd cry and cry hoping Qui-Gon would come to tell him not to be afraid, to sing a lullaby and silly songs while doing laundry. But he never came and one day Obi-Wan stopped crying, he didn't cry after a hard mission, not a tear after remembrance ceremonies, not even watery eyes after being told 'you're so much like your master.' Obi-Wan didn't cry, but he cut his hair, meditated on sleepless nights, held his lightsaber to stop his shaking hands. But he did not cry, he did not cry. He would not cry, not in front of Anakin, not in front of anyone. Not anymore.

The tears stopped but the pain never did. It was only a few short years ago Obi-Wan decided he would never cry in front of Anakin and up until now Obi-Wan stood by his vow. But here, right now, Anakin knew him completely, all his pathetic pain and sorrow. His infinite sadness and self-effacing jokes. He'd never let anyone know how sad he would always be, certainly not. But he couldn't hide his water-colored eyes from Anakin, even though they didn't talk, of course he knew. Obi-Wan's voice trembled and all the strength and poise he'd so carefully crafted fell apart. Obi-Wan felt his eyes water, "Oh, Anakin," his voice cracked, "I'm so sorry-" Obi-Wan shook his head, he couldn't look at Anakin, not after the face he made. Oh, Anakin's face. All of Obi-Wan's pain fell into embarrassment, he couldn't pull himself together, and he was so sorry that he couldn't. "I'm sorry, Anakin, for all of this-" for all of me-

Anakin felt everything within him stop, he couldn't think, he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, Obi-Wan hadn't cried in so long- and all it took was Anakin to open his damned mouth to change that. "Please don't cry, Master, please Obi-Wan-" Anakin looked down, voice trembling, all he could do was beg, "I hate it when you cry-" He really did, he hated not being listened to, being talked over and feeling powerless, but what he hated most, more than his own pain and frustration, what seeing that frustration in those he loved. He hated when Padme worked really hard on a speech to not be heard at all, when Ahsoka cried because she missed her friends, when Rex lost a brother. Anakin hated that he couldn't take their pain away, and most of all, he hated that Obi-Wan was sad, he hated that nothing would ever make him truly happy, Anakin hated he couldn't do anything to ease his pain, he hated when Obi-Wan cried because he became powerless, Anakin was a little kid all over again, unable to think because, like his mother, there was nothing he could do to make her tears stop, there was nothing he could do to make Obi-Wan's tears stop.

Obi-Wan wiped his eyes, his forced smile was so similar to his real one, if Anakin didn't know Obi-Wan, he wouldn't know the difference. How many people didn't know the difference? "Anakin, I do apologize," Obi-Wan took a deep breath, pulling himself back in, shoving all this pain down. He came over to Anakin and pulled his former padawan into a hug, "I'm alright, we'll be alright." His voice was so assuring, so knowing, so void of all his suffering. There it was, that holy resignation. Obi-Wan forgetting himself for the sake of others around him, there it was, his unrequiting selflessness.

Anakin held him tightly, just for a moment as he was safe in his master's arms, he felt a wave of grief sweep him out to sea, his feet swept out beneath him; Anakin was so afraid to let go of Obi-Wan, for he'd surely drown, "I miss my mom-" he'd never admit this, not now anyway, but he'd let himself remember his mother's smile, that soft glow in her eyes, the lines of age framing her eternal beauty, he could almost hear her now, "I still feel like a little kid without her-"

Obi-Wan would not let go until Anakin was ready, and when he was, Anakin wiped his eyes, stepping back into the man he'd grown into, a man without a mother. He looked down at Obi-Wan and he didn't see his Master, he saw a man without a father. It was just the two of them as they were, true Jedi: without a mother, without a father. Their family was the Jedi, but to consider the Jedi their family would be forming an attachment, would it not? Obi-Wan had long pondered that, late into sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling. If he was supposed to be ever compassionate, ever loving; if he was raised to love through love, it was rather hard to not become lost in feelings of attachment. "... That never really goes away." Obi-Wan whispered, he still felt like a padawan, he always wished Qui-Gon was still here, that Obi-Wan was still a son. But he wasn't, and Obi-Wan wasn't.

Anakin held his master tight, but not out of his own sorrow, what about Obi-Wan? Anakin remembered council meetings, the two watched by all of their ever-caring stares, all debating Anakin's future with the Jedi, but what about Obi-Wan? If they ever asked about his well-being, Anakin would never know if, in those early days, they made Obi-Wan feel worse by questioning his ability to do this on his own. "Master," Anakin pulled out of their hug, Obi-Wan was all put back together again, with tape and glue, "You don't have to pretend you're alright, not with me."

Obi-Wan's smile flickered, that sadness flooding back into his eyes, "Anakin," Obi-Wan looked down, he almost wanted to laugh, "Oh, you've grown up, haven't you?" He saw Anakin's smile, too bad it was born from sorrow, "You've become the Jedi I always dreamed you would be."

"-And you've become the Jedi Qui-Gon always dreamed you would be-" Anakin put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, he didn't need to be told, but perhaps it was a nice reminder, "Qui-Gon would be proud of the man you've grown into, Master, you are an honorable Jedi, and a good master, even if at times I didn't think so." This time Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan almost did too. There was a moment, Obi-Wan had fallen into his thoughts but Anakin's voice brought him back, "What I'm saying, is that it's okay to tell me that you miss him," It's okay if you tell me that you cut your hair after I told you that you looked like him; It's alright if you tell me you hold onto your lightsaber because it makes you feel safe; It's okay if you tell me you meditate instead of sleeping because you only have nightmares of that day; It's okay if you tell me you cry when there's no one around because you want everyone to think you're okay now. "It's okay for you to miss him, Obi-Wan, I know how much you loved him-"

Anakin watched Obi-Wan's eyes flicker, perhaps with surprise, perhaps embarrassment, as if loving the man who raised you as his own was something to be ashamed of. As if mourning Qui-Gon like Anakin mourned his mother was wrong. Anakin put a reassuring hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, sensing the cracks in his master's facade, "It's alright.... If you tell me that you loved him-" Anakin whispered.

Obi-Wan looked up, taking a deep breath, he looked up at his padawan, oh, when did he grow up? He was far beyond that little boy on Tatooine, Anakin had grown up into a Jedi Knight, and now they served together not as master and apprentice, but side by side as Jedi Knights. Obi-Wan blinked and Anakin wasn't scared to let go of Obi-Wan's hand, he wasn't heading to the padawan dining hall, he wasn't practicing his form. No, Obi-Wan blinked and Anakin was putting himself in the line of fire to protect others, bringing meals to Obi-Wan's chambers so they can eat together, making form videos for Ahsoka, Obi-Wan had trained him as best as he was able, and somewhere in the last twelve years, Anakin grew up. Obi-Wan had a sorrowful realization from such a miraculous thing, Anakin had grown up. They worked alongside each other as Jedi Knights, and now Obi-Wan had what he dreamed of, he had what he always wanted, what Qui-Gon always wanted.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

The problem is that you're not the Jedi you should be, you're not the Jedi your master wanted and trained you to be, you're a Jedi Master, member of the Jedi Council, but really, you're still just a padawan whose master died, and you never got over it.

[samstree]

more courageous to overcome

(behold! my first obikin fic :'D, rated G, and it's also on AO3)

The rain makes Anakin soft.

They are in the quietest corner of Tython, the heart of the forest, where the air is cool with condensation. The first raindrop hits the ground, and then another, the steady rhythm morphing into the constant patter against the roof of the cabin.

Everything about Anakin softens when it starts to rain, a sigh releasing from his lungs, his shoulders relaxing as if all weight has been lifted from them. He opens all the windows, letting the wind bring in some of the rain. A cold gust fills the room, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Obi-Wan sits on their bed, a book in his lap. Soon, he finds himself joined by Anakin, long limbs curling around the space next to him, pushing away the book to make room for his head.

Anakin lies down on Obi-Wan’s lap, blinking blearily at the soft patter of rain.

He’s still trying to look out the window despite the sleepiness clear in his features, despite his breaths slowing down. Stubbornly, his eyes fix on the mountains far away, on the misty green that stretches into the clouds.

The sky is grey, but Anakin’s eyes shine with hope. It’s warm in the Force, wrapping around his being and seeping into Obi-Wan’s touch.

Even years after leaving Tatooine, raindrops from the sky are still a sight to be admired. It brings out a side of Anakin that was hidden in childhood, pushed away to survive the harsh realities of life in the desert.

Obi-Wan remembers the first time Anakin saw rain at the age of nine, the padawan braid still fresh by his ear. The wonder in the boy’s eyes was brighter than any sun in the galaxy. He tried to catch every drop of water with his hands, laughing and splashing all the puddles, even though his robe was soaked through.

The wonder doesn’t show as overtly these days, as the boy has grown to be the man that he is today. Underneath the softness in Anakin’s eyes, he is still drawn to the rain, amazed by its existence.

Obi-Wan smiles, threading his fingers through Anakin’s hair. It’s growing long, nearly reaching his nape, softer from the moisture in the air, the curls more pronounced. He keeps playing with it, brushing across Anakin’s hairline patiently until he drifts off reluctantly.

The traces of war fade away when Anakin sleeps, his features relaxed in the soothing sound of rain. The scar across his eye is hidden from the soft curls. When Obi-Wan tries to touch it, Anakin mumbles quietly, a frown forming between his eyes, so he retracts his hand.

They stay there for a long time. Obi-Wan meditates to the steady rise and fall of Anakin’s chest, surrounded by the warm presence of him in the Force. The forest murmurs with stories untold, ancient wisdom lost in time. The mountains are peaceful, serene, and protective of all creatures inhabiting their homes. The green foliage covers every inch of the ground, making the planet hum with life.

When Obi-Wan opens his eyes, it is to a gentle nudge in his side. The sky has grown brighter, the downpour slowing to a light shower.

“Why did you let me fall asleep?” Anakin says, voice heavy from sleep. He shifts onto his back so he’s looking at Obi-Wan with bleary eyes. “I meant to listen to the rain.”

Obi-Wan huffs. “It has rained every day since we arrived. It will rain again tomorrow, and every day after.”

It’s the reason they came to the rainforest of Tython in the first place, to find somewhere away from the horrors and simply rest, and Anakin can only rest where there is rain.

But Anakin’s mouth is forming that pout of his, a displeased grumble under his breath. He rolls onto his knees, with arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and face buried in his chest.

“I still want to see it,” he says, voice muffled, before looking up in excitement. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“Anakin…”

Without a pause, Anakin has scrambled out of bed and thrown a cloak in Obi-Wan’s direction, who catches it with an exasperated huff. Obi-Wan doesn’t particularly enjoy getting wet in the rain, but Anakin is already out of the room.

Letting out a quiet curse, Obi-Wan dresses himself quickly to find Anakin by the door, facing the forest outside and its murmuring sounds. He stops in his tracks.

Here Anakin is, reaching out his left hand to catch a droplet in his palm. Even though Obi-Wan cannot see his face, the happiness that fills the Force is unmistakable.

Perhaps, getting a little wet is not the worst thing in the world.

“Let’s go, old man.” Anakin beckons him, looking back at Obi-Wan. His hand is still there, reaching out absently to feel the rain, never realizing he’s kept this habit since childhood. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll just leave you here.”

“No, you won’t. I taught you better than to use empty threats, dear one.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, pulling up his hood to follow Anakin despite the cheeky comments about him being slowed down by age.

With damp moss beneath their feet and the fresh smell of dirt in the air, they trek up a hill side by side. The trail weaves through uneven terrain, the towering trees forming a canopy of dark green. The leaves rustle in the wind as if trying to reveal a secret.

They find each other’s hand somewhere along the way.

The rain has nearly trickled to a stop when they reach the top, the clouds giving way to the first ray of sunlight. The ruin of an ancient Jedi temple sits at the top of the mountain, the broken walls still standing tall after millenniums.

Anakin’s hair is soaked, the curls wild in the mountain wind. He brushes the wet locks back, shaking away the droplets.

“Anakin, stop that.” Obi-Wan blinks when the water flies into his eyes, and it only makes Anakin’s grin wider.

He adjusts Obi-Wan’s hood so he’s shielded from the light drizzle. With their faces only a hand’s breadth away, Obi-Wan stares into those clear blue eyes he no longer knows how to live without.

“There,” Anakin says quietly, eyes crinkling in happiness.

When they are the only two people on a planet like this, away from the pain and destruction of the war, Anakin looks much younger than he ought to be. Obi-Wan keeps forgetting how young he was when the fighting began, how fast he was forced to grow, how young he still is.

The past is in the past. They are simply existing in this moment, healing and resting in the rain.

Anakin turns away to watch the view—the forest that stretches into the horizon, the dramatic rise and fall of the land. The fog lifts from the mountains, letting the sun cast its golden light. It’s one of the most beautiful things in the galaxy, but Obi-Wan cannot find it in himself to care.

He keeps his eyes on Anakin, on the wonder on his face. The Force is balanced with serenity, its ancient power thrumming with an energy that can only be found on the mystical land of Tython.

“Thank you,” Anakin says with an exhale, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“What for?”

The question comes out as light as a breath. Perhaps the rain has a similar effect on Obi-Wan, he reckons, softening everything about him.

“I’m more at peace than I have ever been in this life, Obi-Wan, and it’s because of—well…”

He trails off, but Obi-Wan tries to fill in the silence. “The rain?”

The rain that seeps into every flower, every leaf on this planet. The rain that washes away all the hardened lines on Anakin’s face, lightens all the darkness in his eyes. The rain that is everything good and hopeful in life.

But Anakin shakes his head.

“The rain helps, the mountains too, but there is more,” he says, lifting both of Obi-Wan’s hands and pressing a kiss in his palms. “There is someone.” Anakin leans in, resting their foreheads together, his damp curls brushing against Obi-Wan’s skin. “There is you.”

“Oh.”

The planet carries whispers of lost wisdom and forgotten treasures, of powers from the very beginning of the Jedi. None of it compares to the love that bursts into the Force.

Love is all Obi-Wan feels when they are the only two people in the rain, left alone by the hustling noise of the galaxy. It’s all he feels when he catches Anakin’s hand, the memory of a raindrop still in his palm.

“Dear one,” he answers. “There is also you.”

Their lips meet carefully, gently. Anakin’s cheeks are cool to the touch.

The force hums around them, and Obi-Wan realizes, against all odds, peace has also found its way to his heart.

The rain has stopped, but Obi-Wan tastes it on Anakin’s lips anyway.

[velanieee]

Rereading your writing is weird, I've just had to delete nearly a whole paragraph where I described Obi-Wan Kenobi's hand in unsettling detail. Choices were made when I wrote that... And they were definitely wrong.

Ps... Happy holidays!!!!!

[veloursdor]

I was checking the reblog tags on my obikin tears related ask to tennessoi and just… me too buddy. That’s why I sent it! I cannot escape the idea! It haunts me. I’ll be going about my day and then suddenly — “Anakin was always looking for connection and validation, especially from Obi-Wan, and seeing the man cry (being trusted to see him so vulnerable!) would absolutely change his world.”

Anakin is soooooo chill, sooooo normal about Obi-Wan that if Obi-Wan showed him an ounce of the love he has for him Anakin would be completely normal about it and totally not get weirdly delighted that the devotion he feels for Obi-Wan is requited.

No but fr, to me, Anakin wants Obi-Wan to be part of him, like flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood. He wants that old man so deep inside of him, as part of himself, that, if he could, he would open his chest and shove Obi-Wan inside so Obi-Wan is forever with him.

[moinsbienquekaworu]

The appeal of the pinned post and talking about myself in detail VS you don't get to know anything about me without sticking around actually

[ragnarlothcat]

hello! sorry to disturb but ive been searching for a fic and i havent been able to find it, hoping you can help if its not too much of an imposition 😭 iirc it was a oneshot where vader travels back into the past into his old body to terrorise his master once more, but gets dommed by a sith obiwan who has also time travelled from the future? and anakin doesn’t know that the obiwan he’s seeing isnt the obiwan of that time. i think like half of it is also sex?

No worries, I feel like I have a little fic finding detective agency!!! I just spent like five minutes trying to think of a famous detective whose name could be combined with mine and have fallen short so bad luck there but I do think I found your fic.

My guess: Coming back and going forward. The tags and description sound like exactly what you've described here!

[2dayihaveaheadache]

prose poem prompt of day 1: Echoes of Weathered Hands

(a hand study by the very talented JC Leyendecker)

(original, written in my native tongue: Wenn ich jetzt die Hände erhebe, die Haut rau und durchweicht von Kalk und Seifenlauge, das Nagelbett wund gebissen, verschließen von nervösen Zähnen, fasernd sich auflehnend, die Handflächen entzündet, aggressiv gerötet und dann von gelblicher Scham an den richtigen Stellen bedeckt, dann würde ich die mageren Finger verknoten, falten, beten und fliehen.)

If I now raise my hands, the skin rough and soaked with lime and soap suds, the nail beds bitten sore, closed by nervous teeth, rebelling in fibers, the palms inflamed, aggressively reddened and then veiled in yellowish shame at the fingertips, then I would knot the meager fingers, fold them, pray and flee.

[awesomestarfighter]

#it's an incredible disservice to the characters because the Fandom Popular Pairings typically are not canon! at all! #so of course there's more to the characters than this hypothetical relationship

It’s not that I don’t LIKE the Fandom Popular Pairings, it’s that I find the assumption that everyone ships them and the general all-consuming nature of said pairings to be kinda exhausting,

[sxperflxity]

           out of character // more in the tags.