#Obi-Wan has a heart of gold

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

if disney are just gonna use old promo photos for obi-wan’s wanted posters...they had Options is what i’m saying

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan #ewan mcgregor #star wars #please every promo photo is gold but this one has a special place in my heart #i made this in like 2 mintes on paint lmao forgive me my sins #obi-wan series

[twinterrors29]

Jedi Padawans have the classic sitcom bag-of-flour baby assignment to ensure they're prepared to look after young ones in emergency situations

this assessment is not one of the many canceled or postponed during the war

which means that when Ahsoka is abruptly deployed dirtside along with her Master, Grandmaster, and the 501st, she had to scramble to find an appropriate babysitter for her sack of flour

desperate, she tossed it to Commander Cody, who was staying aboard the Negotiator to oversee the campaign, with only a frantic list of the required steps to take care of it while she was gone

when she returns several days later, Cody has painted the sack 212th gold and constructed a sling to carry it around on his front while he keeps his hands free for work

judging by the rank pins attached to the front, the sack of flour is now a lieutenant

once Obi-Wan's heart eyes abate enough, though, it becomes clear to him that Cody and the 212th troopers have not understood that the sack of flour is not, in fact, a literal Jedi tubie

and none of the Jedi or their siblings in the 501st have the heart to correct them, so they let them keep the thing, stomping on the feet of anyone who tries to ask too many questions about their new mascot

once the war ends, Obi-Wan discreetly replaces the sack with a Jedi chrecheling in the middle of the night, having resigned himself to raising another too-young-Padawan

Reva, for her part, is all to happy to gleefully coat herself in flour for the occasion

#star wars #the clone wars #jedi #clones #ahsoka tano #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #reva sevander

[frasier-crane-style]

Why The Last Jedi doesn't work as subversion is that it continuously requires the characters to act like they KNOW they're characters in Star Wars and not LIVING the Star Wars.

I'll give you an example. Rey. In TFA, her parents are simply missing and she's waiting for them to come back. In TLJ, she suddenly thinks they're an important secret for Kylo to reveal to her because she's pathologically suppressed the truth that they're drunks who sold her for alcohol money (or, you know, blue milk money, whatever).

But why would she ever think that she had an important family or heritage unless she knew she was the protagonist of a space epic and having an important family or heritage is something that happens to those?

Or DJ. The Benecio del Toro character is supposed to be a subversion of the rogue with a heart of gold trope. But why would Finn and Bangs ever think he's a rogue with a heart of gold that's implicitly trustworthy? They find him in a prison cell and have no reason to think he has any loyalty to the Resistance--he even gives a speech about how he considers the First Order and the Resistance to be equally bad!

In ANH, both Luke and Obi-Wan treated Han like exactly what he was, a mercenary, who had to be cajoled into helping out until finally he showed his true colors by attacking the Death Star. They didn't know they were characters going through a story arc. The Sequel Trilogy characters act like they do, until Rian Johnson pranks them by twisting the story arc they had no reason to think they were participating in.

And the entire Luke storyline is a subversion of the entire idea of mentorship. Luke doesn't teach Rey anything. She doesn't need to be taught anything. It's unclear why she even thinks she does, given that she already beat down Kylo Ren with ease, but, again, character in a story. She thinks she needs a training montage, Rian says "she doesn't get a training montage!", and scene.

It's all very meta and post-modern and taken at face value, it doesn't make any sense once you ask obvious questions like "Why shouldn't Poe know that there is a plan to save the fleet?" Defenders of TLJ dismiss those obvious questions because they see them as unimportant next to the post-modern gamesmanship the movie is really concerned with, but Star Wars doesn't work like a Scream movie, where the characters are largely obsessed with horror movies and then, ironically, placed inside a horror movie.

That's a kind of cynicism that doesn't really work for Star Wars; you can't do a sincere narrative about the triumph of good over evil when the characters are mostly convinced there's no big difference between Good or Evil winning.

To go back to ANH, Obi-Wan is emphatic about how wonderful the Jedi were, how tragic it was that they were wiped out, how awful it is to live under the Empire, and how important it is to fight to restore the Republic. That's the baseline of sincerity that this kind of primordial mythmaking needs to work.

With TLJ, most every character on both sides are cynical, foolish, corrupt, power-tripping, shrill, pompous... most of all, incompetent. It seems less like an epic battle between the noble and the venal--more like two competing cliques of sitcom characters, only one of them is inexplicably Nazi-themed. You're left pretty much adrift, with no characters to sympathize with and no conflicts to become invested in, just visuals and 'themes'.

But children can't get invested in themes or subversion. Neither can most people. It's the province of the elitist to care about subtext over story--the sick doldrums of modern art--and Star Wars isn't for them. It's for the people.

#star wars

[thegreenlizard]

Bare beskar

On the eve of marching to war, Obi-Wan makes plans and digs out his old armour. Musings on Mandalorian armour and culture, the ethics of commanding slave soldiers and how that affects one’s self-image.

Could be the same AU as “Not Obi-Wan’s first slave uprising” and “What makes a military genius” (where Obi-Wan is presented with a battalion of slave soldiers, says please and thank you, and starts plotting how to take down the slavers).

Obi-Wan has Mandalorian armour, courtesy of the Kyr’tsad who failed to kill him when he was seventeen and running for his life on Mandalore. The Jedi frown on such soldierly things, so the armour has mostly gathered dust in his closet for the past decade and some. But Obi-Wan has fought in a war before and recognises that no matter how good one is, sometimes armour is all that stands between bleeding out in a ditch and living to fight another day.

So on the eve of marching to war, Obi-Wan digs out his armour to clean and repair and condition every piece. He looks at its light green for peace and green for duty, the order’s wings on one pauldron/over his heart. He strips it all off. He has no right to wear any of it now, and the bare beskar is a statement of its own.

Plus

- Feels about how bare unpainted beskar could be silver for seeking redemption, disavowing all ties (in that there’s no one and nothing to paint his armour for), for being an outcast (which in his heart, he has already decided to become), or all of them. Leading a slave army to war is really really not in the Jedi mission statement. Obi-Wan, having experienced his own stints as a slave, having brought up a padawan who was born a slave, and having already left the order once for an army of child soldiers—well, he has some feels about it.

- Obi-Wan’s closet doesn’t just have armour, it also has a veritable armoury of, ah, useful souvenirs from his various missions. Maybe it makes him a bad Jedi, but Obi-Wan has some difficulty with letting go of possessions that have saved his life. Such as the sniper rifle from Melidaan, a blaster from here, and a vibroblade from there…

- Cody’s/The 212th’s reactions to their Jedi whose luggage apparently includes a full set of arms and armour and little else.

- There’s a story that armour tells for anyone who can read it and I wonder if the clones could. There are only a few things that a completely unpainted beskar’gam could mean. Either it’s completely new and the owner hasn’t had time yet to paint it. But Kenobi’s beskar’gam isn’t new: the metal has scrapes all over it and some fittings are clearly newer than others. It could be second hand, but as the weeks pass, the metal stays bare. And even though some shinies joke about their shiny, very visible general, Kenobi won’t even put on a matte base coat, just thanks the men politely and keeps on shining. It has to be intentional.

- When Obi-Wan eventually repaints his armour, it’s in gold for the 212th and black for justice for the vode.

In the days between accepting his marching orders and shipping out to meet his battalion, Obi-Wan researches, plans, and packs. He sleeps fitfully and dreams of Melida-Daan, of Bandomeer, of Mandalore. He tears through the archives and with echoes of the Young in his ears, downloads anything that might help keep his men alive. With a growing cold like deep sea mines, he reads the clones spec sheets, reviews galactic law, and speed reads his way through the last few years of the senate’s bills.

He pulls out of his closet possessions unbecoming of Jedi—things he has kept because he has been unable to let go of the fear of . There’s his old XX sniper rifle from Melida-Daan. A blaster from here. A vibroblade from there.

And there’s the armour he got from Mandalore. It’s painted in green for duty and erin for peace, the order’s sigil on the pauldron. He can hardly stand to look at it. Standing here, at the eve of marching to war that is to be fought with slave soldiers, he has no right to wear any of it. Not the green of duty, for he has forsaken his duty to protect all sentient life in accepting command of an army of slaves. Not the erin of peace, for he is marching off to fight a war to force worlds to stay in a republic they don’t wish to be a part of. Not the sigil of the Jedi order, for he has already forsaken his vows in these actions—and has already decided to forsake his duty to the republic.

Obi-Wan strips the beskar bare. Before refitting the armour, going through the straps, buckles, replacing worn parts and reconditioning the rest. He spends sleepless nights in the salles relearning to fight in armour.

“Paint? I painted it when I was seventeen. I, ah, stripped it when I accepted the draft.” Kenobi grimaces, but sets his jaw and continues. “I couldn’t keep the paint I had after that.” There’s an odd, bitter clang to his words.

#plot bunny #drabble #blanket permission #space bunnies #codywan #not obi-wan’s first slave uprising #beskar'gam #beskar’gam #mandalorian armour #mandalorian armor

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Star Crossed; Star-Collide: chapter I

Summary: As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

previous | next

The Nevarro desert sprawls out before you, a vast canvas of parched earth that seems to stretch beyond the horizon. Endless dunes of golden sand undulate like a sea frozen in time, while jagged rocks jut out like the teeth of some great beast, scattered haphazardly across the landscape.

The winds whisper a mournful song, carrying with them the sense of utter isolation and a haunting desolation. There is no life in this forsaken place, only the vast emptiness of the shifting sands and a never-ending solitude that engulfs everything in its path.

The star above glows with fervor, its radiance spilling over the land, igniting a heat that suffuses every grain of sand. The air trembles with the sun's intensity, the weight of its brilliance pressing down upon the desert like a hammer.

As if locked in a dance with the arid earth, the sun paints the world in shades of gold and ochre, conjuring an austere beauty in the midst of its scorching assault.

You traverse the vastness of the desert, silence reigning supreme, broken only by the sound of sand crunching beneath your feet. The untamed essence of this barren land engulfs you, but you remain unrelenting, unwavering in your quest

The ivory of your Jedi robes glows against the ashen sand, stark and luminous against the muted desert backdrop. The black of your belt and boots adds depth to your monochrome attire, and your cloak, rippling behind you like a shadow, lends an air of mystery to your austere appearance.

Looking every bit of Obi-Wan’s apprentice, A hushed voice travels with the wind, caressing your ears. You recognize it instantly, the familiar timbre of your mentor Obi-Wan.

Gliding alongside you is Beeb, your trusty astromech droid, a blur of orange and white against the beige sand. Its head, round and dome-shaped, swivels with a keen and curious eye, scanning the endless surroundings.

The stillness of the desert is interrupted only by the gentle hum of Beeb's servos, harmonizing with the soft whisper of the wind.

You watch over him with a protective gaze, your heart filling with a maternal sense of duty. "Take care, little one," you whisper, your voice carried away by the hot winds.

Beeb zips back to your side, emitting a joyful chirp that resonates with the purity of a bird's song happily. Your lips curl into a crescent moon of joy, a twinkle in your eye as you witness Beeb's playful antics.

Beeb swivels his dome-shaped head, emitting a series of chirps and whistles that resemble a curious inquiry. ‘Mama, where are we going?’

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, as if carried on a breeze of mirth at Beeb’s innocent query.

Patting his metallic head and rubbing it as in a way to ruffle his hair gently. "There is a child, Beeb. We must rescue him from the Imperial Remnant." Your voice imbued with unshakable resolve.

‘A child! I get a sibling. That means R2D2 won’t tease me for being the youngest.’ Beeb lets out a series of excited chirps, almost child-like in nature. His head spins around in every direction, as if searching for the little one himself.

A beam of happiness spreads across your face at Beeb's enthusiasm, feeling a sense of warmth in your heart. It's been a long time since you've seen anyone so purely happy and carefree.

It reminds you of your own childhood, before the weight of the galaxy was thrust upon your shoulders.

"I know, Beeb. He's quite the special little guy. I can't wait for you to meet him." Your words are punctuated by a gentle laugh.

The little droid chirps with excitement, his movements quick and sprightly. You follow closely, trying to keep up with his energy as he rolls ahead, leading the way.

The endless expanse of desert still stretches out before you, but Beeb's child-like enthusiasm brings a sense of joy to the journey.

Together, you press on through the harsh terrain, Beeb's infectious happiness making each step a little lighter, each gust of sand a little more bearable.

Through the cacophonous streets of Nevarro, Din strides with a solemn gait, the metallic plates of his armor echoing a rhythmic beat that echoes through the throng of people.

The bustling market envelops the city streets, stalls brimming with wares to behold. Each vendor calls out to passersby, their voices echoing through the narrow alleys as hurried feet beat a steady rhythm on the worn stones beneath.

Din threads his way through the thriving market, the polished metal of his armor gleaming in the scorching sun, capturing the attention of every passerby.

Undeterred by the chaos of the busy market and the looks he receives, Din strides forward with a sense of purpose.

His attention remains steadfast on the task at hand, his thoughts consumed by the mission that has brought him back to this bustling city.

Din treads deeper into the maze of Nevarro's streets, slipping between shadows and darting through sunlight, his every step deliberate and steady as he navigates the twisting alleys.

As Din rounds the corner, his gaze falls upon the entrance to the clandestine Imperial facility, nestled amid the bustling Nevarro market. But in his periphery, a lone rubbish bin catches his eye, discarded and forgotten in the dusty shadows of the narrow alleyway.

Gazing into the dusty bin, Din beholds a heartbreaking sight - the remnants of the child's floating pram now shattered and broken beyond repair.

Din's heart sears with fiery pain, his gaze fixated upon the shattered remnants of the child's once safe haven. The pram, once a symbol of hope and protection, now lies destroyed, its pieces scattered amongst the filth and debris.

Regret grips Din like a vice, squeezing his heart with a brutal force as he recalls the moment he surrendered the Child to the Imperial Remnants.

His fists coil and release, a surge of guilt overwhelming him. A sense of failure seizes his heart, a heavy burden he bears as he paces the alley.

His mind whirls, seeking a solution to the wrongs he's allowed to befall the innocent. A plan he must devise, a way to redeem himself and rescue the Child from the hands of the Imperials.

A burden of guilt crushes his heart as he comprehends the peril that the Child faces. He senses the urgency to act, to save the innocent one from harm's way.

Filled with righteous fury and a burning desire for retribution, Din sets off on a path of vengeance.

For the Empire's cruelty to the Child, they will pay a fee. A debt that only he, the Mandalorian, can claim.

Prostrate atop a terrace, far removed from the grasp of the Imperial agents, Din steadies his gaze through the Amban sniper's lens, locked on the looming Imperial stronghold.

A soft touch to his helmet's earpiece and the mechanism within it hums with life, carrying distant conversations to Din's ear.

Static echoes in Din's ears, as he moves the sniper lens, trying the locate the Child, however, as he scans the base, his attention is drawn to a new scene unfolding before him: the thermal image of the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing.

Their voices, distant and distorted, crackle through his comms. He adjusts the frequency, tuning out the static until the conversation between the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing fills his ears like poison.

"I don't care." The Imperial clients travel through Din's comms. "I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it."

The Imperial agent's orders blare through Din's comms, their cold and callous tones cutting through his heart like a blade. "I don't care. I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it." they command as if the life of a child is nothing but a mere trifle to be disposed of at will.

For a while, the voices fade into the hiss of static, the words drowned in a sea of white noise.

With a gentle twist of the knob, Din awaits the return of the conversation, the static hum slowly dissipating, and the sound of voices filling the air once more.

The doctor's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with obedience, "He has explicitly ordered us to bring it back alive."

"Finish your business quickly, as I no longer can guarantee your safety." The Imperial Client's words travel through the air, a warning of imminent danger.

The beskar helmet conceals the furrow on Din's brow, perplexed by the Imperial Client's cryptic words.

No longer guarantee the safety of the doctor? What is the Imperial agent talking about? Who was this threat that shook the resolve of this hidden Imperial base?

It fills Din with an unknown sense of relief as he realizes that the Imperial agents fear something to the point where they longer feel safe hiding here. For if they fear something enough to flee, then perhaps the Child may yet have a chance at survival.

Thoughts race through Din's mind as he surveys the scene, his voice muffled by the helmet that conceals his emotions. "What are they afraid of? Who is this threat?"

"It is I, they fear, Mandalorian."

A tense stillness grips Din's form, as a distinct hum, like a shrill electrical buzz, reverberates through the air behind him.

Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a moment of reckoning grips Din like a vice, and he curses himself for his lack of vigilance. His eyes, once sharp and alert, now narrow with anger and frustration, as he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

With steady hands, Din relinquishes his grip on the rifle, previously trained upon the Imperial stronghold. Silently, with calculated precision, his hand glides downward, towards the leather holster secured to his left thigh, where the blaster rests within its sheath.

With quickness unmatched, Din draws his weapon from its sheath, rolling onto his back in one fluid motion. From this vulnerable position, he trains the weapon on the looming figure standing behind him, ready to defend himself against any threat.

Confronting him is a presence, tall and imposing. The figure is draped in flowing white robes, the starkness of which is accented by a contrasting black belt.

Behind them, a cloak of the deepest black dances in the wind, as if daring anyone to challenge the power of the one who wears it.

The figure holds a weapon that Din has only heard in a hushed tone, spoken in reverential tones and remembered with reverence, for those who wielded it were lost to the purge, gone without a trace.

The once-forgotten weapon, now in the possession of an enigmatic form, is wielded with practiced ease and lethal finesse, each hand brandishing one of the glowing blades.

Din offers gratitude to the stars above, for the knowledge imparted by the Armourer, which he now recalls as a child, the different variations of the lightsabers.

The Mandalorian's gaze fixates on the left hand of the figure, beholding the double-bladed lightsaber glowing in hues of royal purple, while the right-hand holds a dual-phased lightsaber emanating a vivid green radiance.

"A Jetii." Din's lips part, his breath caught in his chest as he beholds the figure before him, a being of power and ancient wisdom.

"A Mandalorian." The words uttered by the figure are infused with a sense of serenity, a voice of balance and control.

The voice of the figure reaches Din's ears, and a sudden realization dawns upon him. This is no mere figure, but a woman of immense power, her words carrying a weight that stirs something deep within him.

A shiver runs down his spine, as he realizes the magnitude of his opponent - a Jetii, armed with weapons of deadly prowess. He knows he stands no chance against such might.

Din's senses flare with a sudden urgency, and his body responds with a lightning-quick roll, narrowly evading the Jetii's sudden lunge. His muscles tense, his reflexes honed from a life of constant danger.

The graceful and deadly strike of her dual lightsabers slices through the air where Din had been just a moment before. The sound of the humming blades echoes off the surrounding structures, a symphony of danger and death.

Din's heart races with adrenaline as he quickly springs to his feet, his own weapons at the ready. He knows he's outmatched, but he refuses to go down without a fight.

Din regains his footing with a graceful sway, his blaster at the ready, aimed at the Jetii. Yet her movements are too swift, her form too lithe, as she sidesteps each shot with poise and ease, the double-bladed lightsaber a blur of purple, effortlessly blocking his every attempt.

Din grunts as he swiftly steps back, creating distance between himself and the woman. With fluid motions, he draws his amban rifle/spear from his back, ready for the woman's next move. As she lunges towards him with her green lightsaber, Din expertly parries her attack.

Din charges forward, his rifle at the ready, but the woman is too quick. She leaps over him, somersaulting in mid-air, and lands behind him. Before he can turn around, she delivers a swift kick to his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Stepping forward, the woman's words are sharp and unforgiving. "You are a Mandalorian, revered warrior. Family is paramount to you, younglings are precious to your kind. I have respect for your way of life, but I must ask, why did you surrender the Child to the Imperials?"

Din tries to stand up but he is still disoriented from the kick. He glares at the woman, anger simmering within him. "That's none of your business," he growls, his hand hovering over his holster.

He doesn't know who she is or how she knows about the Child, but her words hit him hard.

The woman narrows her eyes, her lightsabers still ignited. "It is my business when it concerns the safety of a child. The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, even though there are only two left, it is our duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Din grits his teeth and slowly pushes himself back up, his eyes never leaving the Jetii. "It's complicated," he answers, his voice tense.

The woman tilts her head, her eyes probing. "Complicated," she repeats, a note of skepticism in her voice.

"I am a Mandalorian. Our code of honour includes fulfilling one's obligations and completing jobs. I was obliged by my creed to finish the job." Din tries to reason but knows that even the Mandalorians don't leave children behind.

The woman's stance stiffens, her body a seething cauldron of rage, emanating a fiery aura. "Your creed should also include protecting the innocent, especially the young. You know as well as I do that the Imperials won't treat that child kindly. You had a chance to make a difference, to save a life, and you chose to ignore it."

Din's head droops in shame, the weight of the woman's words crushing him. He has fallen short of his Mandalorian code, failing to protect the youngling. "I... I know. I was wrong," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to make it right. I have to get him back."

The woman's lightsabers fall silent, their deadly hum fading as she deactivates them. Din's gaze follows as she gracefully returns the weapons to her belt, then lowers the hood that had obscured her face.

And wow.

Din's heart quickens its pace as the woman lowers her hood, revealing her face at last. But it is not just her physical beauty that holds him captive. In her eyes, there burns a fierce intensity, a wisdom that he has never before encountered. 4

Her gaze pierces through him like a blaster bolt, and he feels a strange stirring within him, a stirring of awe and admiration.

It feels like she is seeing straight into the depths of his soul. A captivating aura emanates from her, enveloping Din in a trance-like state.

At this moment, all of his thoughts, concerns, and fears seem to vanish, leaving him lost in the hypnotic gaze of this enigmatic woman.

Din's mind goes blank as he gazes upon her, forgetting the conflict that had brought them face to face. The way the light dances around her, the gentle slope of her features, the spark in her gaze - all of it blends together to create a breathtaking portrait that he cannot help but be captivated by.

Her voice echoes in Din's mind, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade. He feels the weight of her gaze upon him, and he struggles to maintain his composure. Her presence is like a force of nature, commanding his attention with ease.

As she speaks, he finds himself lost in the rhythm of her words, the cadence of her voice like a soothing melody. He tries to focus on what she is saying, but his mind is distracted by the beauty of her being. The way she speaks, the way she stands it's as if he's in a dream that he never wants to wake up from.

'You're not a boy anymore,' he reminds himself, 'you're a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian.' The words echo in his mind, a mantra to steel himself.

He musters all his inner strength, fighting against the temptation to be entranced by her allure. He forces his mind back to the present, determined to cast aside the alluring distractions and attend to the matter at hand.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make it right," Din declares, his voice filled with a deep-seated conviction.

The woman nods a sense of understanding in her eyes. "I believe you," she says softly. "But words are meaningless without action. If you truly want to make it right, then you must find the Child and bring him back to his own kind, where he will be safe and learn more about himself."

He nods, determination setting in. "I won't let him be hurt."

The woman regards Din for a moment, before extending her hand out to help him up. "Good," she says, motioning to the Imperial Base with her head. "Because we have work to do."

Din feels a wave of gratitude washes over him at the woman's words. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing by handing the child over to the Imperials, but now he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

Accepting the woman's outstretched hand, Din rises to his feet, his heart still racing from the intensity of the fight. He looks at her with deep appreciation and nods in gratitude. The woman takes a step back, giving him space to retrieve his weapons from the ground.

As Din's hands reach for his rifle on the ground, a flicker of movement catches his attention from the corner of his eye, and his muscles tense as he recognizes the source.

Din's gaze follows as an astromech droid BB-8 unit rolls out from its spot, and over to the woman. Her smile shines like a sunbeam, casting a warm glow over everything around her. She kneels in front of the droid and tenderly pats its spherical head, a gesture that seems to radiate with pure kindness.

Din's eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features as he observes the woman's interaction with the astromech droid. His gut churns with a deep-seated distrust of the machines, borne from past traumas and scars.

The weight shifts on his feet, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to strike if the droid were to make any sudden moves.

The woman senses Din's unease and rises to her feet, turning her gaze toward him. "Don't worry, Beeb has been with me since I was a child. He is on our side." she says reassuringly, a faint smile gracing her lips.

Din remains skeptical, but the woman's words give him pause. He relaxes slightly but keeps a watchful eye on the droid. "I've had my fair share of run-ins with droids. Can't say I trust them much," he admits gruffly.

The woman nods in understanding. "I understand, but please know that I built him myself and imbued him with the same spirit of loyalty and honor that I strive to embody. He has been with my brother and me through the toughest of battles. You have nothing to fear from him, Mandalorian."

Din considers her words for a moment, then gives a curt nod. "I'll take your word for it, but if that thing tries anything funny, he's getting a blaster bolt to the head."

The woman chuckles. "I wouldn't expect any less from a Mandalorian. But I assure you, Beeb is on our side."

As if sensing his hesitation, Beeb lets out a series of friendly beeps and chirps, rolling closer to Din and nuzzling against his leg. Din glances down at the droid, surprised by the show of affection.

The woman smiles knowingly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "See? He's harmless."

Din grudgingly nods, still unsure of the droid's intentions. But he knows that he can trust the woman and by extension, Beeb. For now, at least.

Approaching him with confidence, the woman strides towards Din, her height just slightly shorter than his own. As she draws nearer, she speaks her name with a voice as soothing as a gentle stream and extends her hand for him to take, a gesture of respect and greeting.

Din takes a moment to compose himself before taking her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm as they shake hands. He quickly withdraws his hand and takes a step back, surprised at his own reaction.

The woman raises an eyebrow, noticing his sudden shift in demeanor. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

Din shakes his head, trying to push aside the strange sensation that lingers in his hand. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just that...I don't usually shake hands with strangers."

The woman chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I understand. But I hope we can become more than strangers, Mandalorian."

"Mando. Call me Mando." Din says finally, the word rolling off his tongue with a certain weight.

He can sense the woman's surprise at his response, but he remains firm. He has learned to keep his true name hidden, even from those he trusts.

The woman's gaze locks onto Din's, and as she speaks his name, it rolls off her tongue like a sweet melody, a word to be savored and cherished. "Mando," she murmurs, her voice carrying the weight of reverence and admiration.

A stirring sensation dances in Din's chest as the woman utters his name once more. He's never heard it spoken with such curiosity and esteem, and the sound of it from her lips sends shivers down his spine.

"Shall we go, Mando?" With a graceful motion of her hand, the woman gestures toward the direction they should take.

Din nods in understanding, feeling drawn to her enigmatic presence. "Lead the way," he says, a subtle hint of admiration in his voice.

With steadfast purpose, the pair sets out on their journey, each step resolute and unyielding. Their goal is clear, a daunting challenge ahead, as Beeb follows along faithfully. Their mission: to rescue the Child, to keep the Imperial Agents at bay, and to ensure the youngling's safety at all costs.

Tag list: @babygirlrex0504 @alienated-green-tea @fatima-marisa @dindjarindude @sharin1806 @ruthyalva96 @avengersfan25

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #mandalorian and grogu #grogu djarin #din grogu #skywalker!reader #jedi!reader #female!reader #fanfic #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #din dijarin fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #star wars #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x y/n #din and grogu #din dijarn #grogu my beloved #grogu the child

[literallyjustanerd]

how about some codywan aftercare? Yk the softness as they calm down and just sorta look at each other smiling

This one got me feeling things. Thank you so much for the prompt, I really enjoyed writing this one! Hope you enjoy reading it, too.

The Galaxy Can Wait (Codywan fluff)

Word Count: 836

A quiet moment of reflection after a night spent together, in the space before they have to return to their duties.

It’s these moments that Obi-Wan cherishes the most. The after, the quiet. The languid, drifting calm once they’ve both been brought over the edge and into the abyss beyond, where time is stretched long and their world is made blissfully small. Small enough that its width and breadth are filled entirely by only their panting breaths and gentle, seeking hands. Small enough that the galaxy outside ceases to exist, or rather, that the entire galaxy is reworked, reshaped to fit wholly within one man. A smile coaxes Obi-Wan’s mouth upward, buoyed by a pooling warmth in his chest, as Cody presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you,” Cody murmurs, lips dragging against sweat-slicked skin, speaking the words like a prayer. Always reverent, like Obi-Wan is a precious thing, something sacred. A hand slides up Obi-Wan’s bicep, and he shudders involuntarily, his skin oversensitive, nerves still raw. A soft wave of pleasure laps at his spine, meagre compared to the crashing tide that he had just ridden out. Cody’s touch continues upward, to brush locks of dampened hair behind Obi-Wan’s pinked ears. 

“Feel so good. Perfect.” He’s heavy, boneless, long since collapsed atop Obi-Wan’s chest to bask in his afterglow. Obi-Wan’s back arches, just to feel the weight over him, just to savour the feeling of being so completely surrounded. Enveloped. Safe. The Force is thrumming, purring at the edges of his consciousness, all sweet and syrupy and snug. And swaddled in it all, right at its core, is Cody.

Cody, who he can always feel in the Force like a lit flare on the horizon to guide a lost traveller home, like a brilliant, gleaming sunburst parting the clouds after a storm. Cody, who leads their men with a fierceness and dedication that leave Obi-Wan breathless with awe. Cody, who is always strong, always unshakeable, who has never once let his general nor his brothers down when they need him.

Cody, who right now, is thoroughly blissed-out, love drunk and downright giddy.

“You weren’t half-bad yourself, darling,” Obi-Wan quips, and Cody laughs, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in his throat.

This is why Obi-Wan holds these moments so dearly, keeps them so carefully folded away in the deepest vaults of his heart. It’s a privilege he does not take lightly, to be the one who gets to see Cody like this, stripped bare of his usual decorum, open and vulnerable and allowing himself to be truly cared for. Tenderly, Obi-Wan reaches out a hand, laying it against Cody’s cheek, the tips of his fingers grazing against the dark curls at his temple. Cody presses into the touch, turning his head to kiss the flat of Obi-Wan’s bony palm. He grins, broad and indulgent, creasing the scar at the corner of his eye. Obi-Wan can’t help grinning back, nor can he help the accompanying ache in his chest. He’s struck with a sudden certainty that nothing in the galaxy could make him break their gaze, not when it feels this pure, this holy.

“You have such a gorgeous smile, love,” he says, the words slipping free just as the thought floats to the surface. In any other moment, such a sentiment would have Cody rolling his eyes, masking his sheepishness with a quip about flattery not earning him any special treatment. Now, though, without his usual defences, the words reach him fully, and he revels in them, his eyes shining, flecks of molten gold in amongst the rich brown.

“Love you so much,” he sighs dreamily, letting his fingers wander up to tangle in Obi-Wan’s hair. He finishes the thought with his lips against Obi-Wan’s neck, evidently too tired to keep his head upright any longer. “So beautiful, sound so pretty. Could listen to your voice all day, mesh’la.”

Eager to give him what he wants, Obi-Wan keeps talking. They speak softly of everything, of nothing at all. Traded promises and sweet nothings, nonsense that served no purpose more than keeping the world at bay a little longer and protecting the sanctity of the small, perfect universe they’ve created between their mingling breaths and tangled limbs. Cody’s head fits so perfectly in the space under Obi-Wan’s chin that when they’re inevitably parted, he will feel he’s lost a part of himself. Already, the light and sounds of dawn outside the temple window are beginning to seep in, a persistent reminder that a galaxy waits outside through thin walls, demanding their attention. Waiting to return them to their usual selves, governed by sense and reason and duty in all their bleak, cold glory. 

For now, though, Obi-Wan turns his focus to the heat of Cody’s skin against his own. Fills his lungs with the feel of Cody tracing starmaps among the freckles on his pale chest. He threads his fingers into Cody’s cropped hair, imagining that he’s tethering the two of them together, and smiles at the soft hum he gets in response.

The galaxy can afford to wait just a few more minutes.

#sw tcw fanfic #codywan #codywan fic #flash fic #answers #request #codywan fluff

[kefalion]

Text in gold is from Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith

This is Anakin Skywalker: The most powerful Jedi of his generation. Perhaps of any generation. The fastest. The strongest. An unbeatable pilot. An unstoppable warrior. On the ground, in the air or sea or space, there is no one even close. He has not just power, not just skill, but dash: that rare, invaluable combination of boldness and grace. He is the best there is at what he does. The best there has ever been. And he knows it. HoloNet features call him the Hero With No Fear. And why not? What should he be afraid of? Except— Fear lives inside him anyway, chewing away the firewalls around his heart. Anakin sometimes thinks of the dread that eats at his heart as a dragon. Children on Tatooine tell each other of the dragons that live inside the suns; smaller cousins of the sun-dragons are supposed to live inside the fusion furnaces that power everything from starships to Podracers. But Anakin’s fear is another kind of dragon. A cold kind. A dead kind. Not nearly dead enough. Not long after he became Obi-Wan’s Padawan, all those years ago, a minor mission had brought them to a dead system: one so immeasurably old that its star had long ago turned to a frigid dwarf of hypercompacted trace metals, hovering a quantum fraction of a degree above absolute zero. Anakin couldn’t even remember what the mission might have been

Watercolour and gold pen. A4. Based on this behind the scenes gif

#star wars #Anakin Skywalker #matthew stover #revenge of the Sith #fanart #kefalion’s art

[veloursdor]

obikin au where obi-wan is a writer and anakin is the main character in every novel he writes. everyone is a fan of anakin skywalker, the ruthless pirate who hides a heart of gold and shows it only to his beloved who he only sees once a year; everyone is in love with ani sky, the secret service agent who is desperately in love with his boss and is the only reason he hasn't left a job he despises. everyone cried when the chosen one was forced to let his one true love die because the fate of the universe demanded it so.

obi-wan has become a household name writing about anakin, making millions with every book he sells. no matter what, people seem to love anakin in any form and shape he takes and obi-wan has made a fortune of that love.

but what people doesn't know is that, hidden in obi-wan's house, deep where no one can find him, anakin is an actual muse, one qui-gon (obi-wan's mentor and father figure) kidnaped years ago and entrapped in his house after a writer's block nearly drove him to ruin.

(or an obikin au based on calliope's episode of sandman)

#obikin #obikin au #anakin skywalker x obi-wan kenobi #anakin x obi-wan #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #muse au #anakin can’t be normal about obi-wan #so he’s not entirely ‘trapped’ against his will

[battlekilt]

Our Little Troopers...

The how isn't important anymore, the Jedi certainly aren't bothered much anymore. But the point is...

The Clones were all de-aged. There is no memory. No scars. Fresh from the tanks little Clones. This is a problem for the Kaminoans, who lose their loans on a "faulty product" clause found in the financial agreement for the second loan.

Now the Galactic Republic citizens had to provide their own armies. The war dragged on for far longer.

Many Clones are scattered all over, but some Clones stayed close to home as residents of the Temple.

This is exactly what High Jedi Generals Kenobi and Skywalker always need after long, drawn-out battles...

Little mend broken hearts more than the sounds of tiny pattering feet on the approach, and the giggles of Little Clones on the march. It was chaos. It was perfect.

Around the bend came one toddling Little with a head of golden curls and a blue strip down the middle of his onesie. Immediately, he scampered up to Skywalker, came to a stop, nearly toppled over, and barely managed to right himself. He was still wobbly and clutched to the top of Anakin's knee-high boot.

Rex pointed downward. "I have toes!" He tried to sound serious, but immediately after his very serious announcement came the sound of bell-like giggles when he got scooped up into Anakin's arms.

One boy with a gold-orange stripe down his onesie almost got within reach of Obi-Wan while in pursuit of another little Clone. While Rex babbled away to Anakin, Obi-Wan tried to get Cody to let him pick him up.

Cody bit him.

Truly, Obi-Wan expected this. He'd wait until Cody was exhausted. He sighed sadly, though also fondly, and looked down to find a tiny chubby fist tugging on his robes. Another sweet face looked up at him, a rare Clone with chubby cheeks. He wouldn't have to see the silver strip to know it was Plo's darling Wolffe asking for upsies—he was always starved for them.

Immediately, the General scooped him up and pressed his cheek into the boy's, and moved just in time to avoid poor Wolffe's cloth-covered toes being bitten by a jealous Cody... who still wouldn't let Kenobi hold him. Instead, he chased a boy with a red stripe on his onesie.

He fussed over the bib of the very quiet Wolffe and said, "Always such a civilized little gentleman who never bites."

Cody looked offended. Fox grinned to show his pointy, little teeth.

"Didn't the records show that as a baby, Cody was a well-behaved Tiny?" Anakin asked, not for the first time. He liked to rub it into Obi-Wan's face that Rex has always been a well-behaved boy and remains one.

"I guess he feels comfortable enough to show us his true colors, now," Obi-Wan said with another sigh. He didn't want to show what it really meant to him to know that Cody felt safer with him than he ever had as a Tiny on Kamino.

All around them more little Clones showed up, and eventually... the one who was now the only known Clone to retain his age: Boba Fett, who was chasing after at least three Clones in purple.

"They are all menaces!" Boba announced. They had heard it before. They will hear it again. He loved it. And he loved them.

Now he was the big brother, and he had a chance to stay their big brother, since none of the Clones showed any signs of their ages advancing.

"Better here or the prison?" Anakin asked. He looked down and saw Fox tugging on him to pick him up. He groaned. Fox always wanted to be around Rex, since they were the same size. But, it was also a guessing game about whether he'd behave like Rex or... bite.

"Living in the Jedi Temple IS living in a prison," Boba tried to argue, but it was hard to take the kid seriously when he scooped up Cody just as the tyke scurried by again.

Obi-Wan frowned. "How do you pick him up and not get bit?" He asked.

Looking far too serious in his face, though his eyes sparkled with mirth, Boba said quite frankly, "I bite back when he does."

"And... that's worked?"

"Most of the time. It does make him pause. Plus, he really doesn't bite too many. Just those who entertain him."

#tcw #commander cody #commander wolffe #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #captain rex #commander fox #let clones be babies #// i have more in my head #// i based Cody's biting off my one parrot #// whose favorite clone is Cody #baby clones #au: little troopers

[shewolfofficial]

• How The Clones Would Act With a Crush •

Rex

• Rex is a literal sweetheart, he has a heart of gold when it comes to the people he cares about

• When he notices this change of feelings with you he wouldn't act on it drastically

• Though if you're already close to Rex, he would be more attentive when it comes to your interests and opinions, he hears that you like a certain flower? Rex would turn up and give you one- brushing it off as nothing to try remain calm

• He does stutter sometimes but does overall remain calm and collected around you

• If you two never talked much before Rex would try to think of excuses to spark up conversation with you

• Always plans out how he should start the conversation but sometimes is too shy to actually do it

• Keeps an eye on you whether it be from close nearby or afar when you're on the battlefield

Cody

• He's besties with Rex so ofc Rex knows about his lil crush

• Obi Wan knows too- he once made a comment to Cody about how busy he would be on the battlefield watching you instead of shooting droids which made him go 👁️👄👁️

• Literally so shy with you that its obvious to everyone around you two about his crush

• He wouldn't get you any subtle gifts like Rex would

• Cody would find ways to compliment you more instead

• If you two weren't close then he would come up and talk to you via complimenting you to start the conversation

• Tries to find ways he could use to bond with you

Fives

• He's known to be the 'classclown' type but when it comes to you Fives is serious

• Hears anyone try to bad-mouth you? You bet Fives is defending your name with a frown on his face

• Tries to make you laugh to see your smile

• The rest of the 501st tease him on a daily basis (especially Echo)

• Godforbid he do anything even the slightest bit embarrassing in front of you he would die from mortification

• If you and Fives didn't know each other at first it would take him a while to go to you and introduce himself

• Is actually such a respectful gent to you

Wolffe

• Grumpy™

• Wolffe is a silent admirer if you both don't know each other first, he most likely wouldn't make the first move

• He's somewhat softer to you if you both know each other though

• Glares from afar at anyone who gives you unnecessary hassle- when they catch his gaze they're already apologizing and leaving you be

• Makes up excuses to be closer to you, most of the time those excuses are 'orders' from Plo Koon

• VERY protective of you

• The wolfpack have their suspicions about his feelings for you but watch everything play-out from afar before they jump to conclusions and ask him

#commander cody #commander cody x reader #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #captain rex #captain rex x reader #arc trooper fives #fives x reader #star wars #the clone wars #the clone wars x reader #x reader

[casualmonsterenjoyer]

su cuy´gar

Summary: Cody still works for the Empire two years after Order 66 but one day he sees something from his watchtower he just can't believe. (This is just a little short reunion fic.)

Warnings: none? Canon-divergence and post Order 66 but that's it

I think I wrote this back in 2021 and already did upload it on ao3 but hey why not here too (you know, I finally sat down and got an account last month and I'm slowly getting comfy here)

Don't expect too much, especially when it comes to posting more... I'm working on other fanfics but keep getting sidetracked or start others...the usual.

Anyways, enjoy! (Feedback is appreciated)

It has been two years since the rise of the Empire, exactly two years since Utapau. And Cody never quite understood why he stayed. Why he stayed with this new regime.

He followed orders.

He always did.

Maybe that's why he stayed.

There was nothing for him outside the Empire. Though, he heard some of his brothers had joined together, got others out and promised safety, Cody just couldn't see that for himself. The one person he would have returned to was gone.

There has always been blood on Cody's hands. First, that of his brothers. Cody led them into their death time and time again. Then, it was the blood of his general. Now, it's the blood of innocent.

He's so far gone from the clone he used to be and there is no way back.

He can't even try, stuck in a wasteland, an excuse of a planet under imperial control. There is nothing. Nobody.

So, Cody's initial reaction to double check the image currently being projected to him via holo is understandable.

It simply could not be.

The clone runs down the stairs of the watchtower he is stationed in, abandoning his post.

At foot of the tower he could now see the figure approaching without any gear and yanks off his bucket - probably the fastest he has ever done it - and yet he sill can't believe what he is seeing.

No matter if it was or simply his mind stabbing him in the back one final time. Seeing Obi-wan Kenobi is like seeing the sun again after a cold and terrifying night, seemingly endless and without escape.

A two year long night it has been.

His programming practically screams at Cody, telling him to do what apparently he didn't on Utapau, to follow through with the order like a good soldier and he would be lying if he said it wasn't hard, resisting the urge grab his blasters and start mindlessly shooting the jedi.

But this isn't just any jedi. This man, currently breaking into a sprint towards him, is the general.

It is his general.

Cody won't do the same mistake twice, he should have said kriff the programming back then, he definitely is saying it now. Over and over again in his mind while closing the distance between himself and the one he thought dead.

Cody blamed himself for everything that had happened daily, going numb and blank by the rotation till all that was left of the commander was the programming only.

Whatever Cody forcefully sacrificed that day on Utapau comes flooding back, for a second overwhelming the clone with regret, self-hatred and...love, adoration.

Slowing his steps Cody looks from his dark boots up to meet the jedi's face, unreadable. It makes him uncertain, scared to a degree.

"Cody...“, Obi-wan breathes out, standing so close, suddenly holding Cody's face in his callused, warm, living hands. Cody, in response, is quick to grab the jedi's wrists, he lingers but ultimately decides to pry them away - missing the warmth but believing it is better that way.

"I don't want to hurt you...general“, his voice is merely a whisper and the thought of actually hurting and loosing Obi-wan all over again breaks the clone.

Maybe Cody should have agreed to being send back into active duty, whatever that implied, then he would not have to deal with his own emotions, the raging fear of harming the only person he ever loved with such intensity.

Cody has committed atrocities yet Obi-wan, with his heart of pure gold, looks at him with a smile, his gorgeous eyes - tired, pleading - filled with nothing but fondness.

The jedi wiggles his hands free from Cody and moves to close the clone into a hug instead, one hand on his back the other gripping at the back of his head, sinking into Cody's dark curls.

Part of Cody still screams, part of Cody doesn't trust this to be real. Just another one of his nightmares for sure. He's gonna wake up in moment, alone.

But the moments pass and he's still here surrounded by warmth and the smell he has missed for so long. The smell of comfort. Of home.

"Darling“, he hugs the clone tighter and Cody finally regains control of his own limbs enough to cling to Obi-wan in return, “I have been searching for you for so long", Cody can hear the despair in Obi-wan's voice and once again curses himself for being the source of it, "hoping you were not under the countless who lost their life because, dear“, Obi-wan moves away a bit to really look at the clone, tears visible in both their eyes now, “I will not let them or yourself destroy you any further", funny how after everything the general still knew him so we'll.

"Cody...I found a place we can be safe, the two of us“.

And Cody, former commander of the 212th, battle hardened and bred to withstand almost everything, falls to his knees crying in front of the jedi, his jedi.

It feels good. He feels free.

Safe.

Yes, he will keep them safe.

Kriff the programming, it is long due time to make his own decisions.

"I would love to follow you there“.

#star wars #the clone wars #codywan #fanfiction #commander cody #obi wan kenobi

[snowywinterevenings]

I’m working on the last chapter of Scars on Our Hearts, so I thought I’d throw this on tumblr. I know I’ve posted it before, but tumblr’s search function is a disaster, and I can’t find it, so here it is again, a glimpse into one of the many worlds Obi-Wan stopped in before getting to the one in the story.

The ghost follows them for three days, and Obi-Wan waits for it to show itself, more curious than anything about the visitor to whom he feels a strange connection. Their shadow is filled with such infinite sadness that it makes something in Obi-Wan’s own chest ache, pain so sharp that he cannot even begin to fathom its cause. He does not hunt for the ghost, sensing no ill will from him, but the love and devotion he feels bent in Cody’s direction makes him a bit uneasy.

The intruder makes his move while Obi-Wan is away one night dealing with some absurd emergency. He ends the meeting with an abrupt resolution for the matter and speeds home, ready to tear their unwanted guest to pieces, but he is met with the most unlikely scene imaginable, his own double seated on the edge of the bed beside Cody who is sound asleep. There are differences between them, his counterpart’s hair cropped short along the sides and worn longer on top, his form a touch thinner as though he doesn’t always remember to eat, and a blade that is similar but not identical to Obi-Wan’s own, at his waist. The most obvious difference is his attire, more that of a Jedi than an emperor, though darker in color than the Jedi favor.

“A few moments more please.” It is strange to hear his voice from the lips of another, but he hums, granting the ghost his request, knowing deep in his soul that no version of him could harm his sleeping heart.

He would agree to nearly anything to soothe the ache he feels in the Force.

When the ghost eventually stands, he whispers, “sleep well, my heart,” and champagne gold eyes wet with grief finally meet his own. The words have been said before in a much different context, and Obi-Wan knows now what has caused such pain. He has a hundred questions, but he leads his counterpart into another room in silence and settles him into a chair, drawing a blanket around his shoulders. He doesn’t know whether it would have been a kindness or a cruelty to leave him watching over Cody while he disappeared to make tea, but some of the grief has ebbed away by the time he returns.

“Forgive me. It was not my intention to disturb your peace, but… you reminded me so very much of us.”

“What are you?”

“A traveler.” It is not a terribly satisfying answer, but Obi-Wan supposes it’s easier to admit than calling himself a broken ghost. “I move between realities. I have seen so many now, but this is the only one where I have encountered someone like me.”

“Someone fallen.” It does not surprise him to know that the Obi-Wans of other realms live more often in the light. Even he clings to it each night.

His other half nods, thumb tracing over the lip of his tea cup, clutching it tightly in his hands as though he is attempting to leech the warmth from it like he has not been warm in years. Perhaps he has not with his Cody lost to him somewhere along the way.

“How long ago?”

“Three years.” The end of the war then. A little shiver winds down his spine as he recalls their discovery of the chips. “He spared me from death at the hands of his brothers.”

“Did you burn your galaxy to ash?”

“It is not what he would have wanted.”

“I doubt he would have wanted this for you either.” He nearly offers their home as a place for the ghost to rest, but he has never been very good at sharing, and he does not think it would truly ease the pain. His haunted other half must find and make his own peace.

“Keep him close.”

“Always.”

The ghost leaves, vanishing into the night, and Obi-Wan takes up his vigil, watching over Cody as he sleeps. He joins him eventually, holding him close, and he hopes that someday the ghost can do the same, that he finds the lost love for whom he has been searching.

#codywan #sith obi wan #sithywan #my fics #scars on our hearts

[dragonsandwolvesohmy]

Okay, I'm compiling fics in one place, because I know my memory and I will forget shit and end up on a three-hour search for things again and it's just... Lost fics will also be here for when I find them.

Note: these summaries are actually the little pieces that I remember them by, so... not terribly accurate. Be warned.

The one with Argicorps member Obi and the potato sprouts: Put your empty hands in mine by K_R_Closson.

The one with Jango meeting Obi during Melida/Daan and being the one that brings him into the Mandalorian world: Stewjoni Traits. by TessaVance.

The one where Cody and Senator Obi end up together and meet Nield and Cerasi from MeliDaan: A Heart's Revolution by thevalesofanduin.

The one where female Obi gets married to Jango after their both held captive and she hides things in her hair: The Mandalorian Entanglement by InvisibleSilence.

The one where there's bird people and Fem!Obi attracts the attention of the queen: The Path of Rain by sirladyknight.

The one where Stewjon people leave unwanted children at the edge of a forest:

The one with an SI/OC that goes 'Nope!' every time they see Krell: An Ocean of Paths and Links by Maginary.

The one where Obi was married to Jango, ran away but was brought back years later with Anakin: The Dragon King by Shelaar (JonathanAnubian).

The one with the flowers: The Brute Divine by catboydogma.

The one where Obi is a medic and still falls in love with Cody: We’ll Meet Again by little_dumpling.

The three with Jango and courting via knife sheath: Kal'Koora by MusicSoul1982. Sheath and Dagger by Llamaal. Mandalorian Courtship by Lyricalvillain.

The one where Galidraan goes differently and a Jedi helps Mandos find Jango in a spice freighter/The one where Jedi help a group of Mando children stuck in comas: Defying Expectations by Thunder_and_Tea.

The one where the clones get mass adopted by Mandalorians: You Could Be My Luck (Safe and Sound) by SkybreakPrime.

That one with Mandalorian Obi kicking ass and taking names with a pet strill: Strangers Like Me by K_R_Closson.

The one where time-traveling Obi calls Jaster to help with Melid/Daan: Who you are today (is not who you have to be tomorrow) by wildimaginingsofhalfbakedideas

The one where Krell was captured on Umbara and put in a cell for wanting to be a Sith: Just this once, captain, everyone lives.

The one with the Kasava fruit: patron saint by spqr.

The one where Jaster shows up in the halls of healing to see padawan Obi/The one where Obi saves Depa from a holocron: The Star (-17) by handdrawnisopach.

The one where Obi becomes padawan to a wookie and there's a holocron of his father: No Absolutes by Eff_Dragonkiller.

The one with the doors depicting battles: Unintended Consequences by sparkly_seagull. and The Slave's Gambit by bgyeetusthefetus.

Fics about Jedi braids and beads:

Where Obi gets beads from everyone who loves him: You Are Wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi by Allwalkfree

Where he's adopted into a family of librarians: The Librarian’s Padawan by Mithril_and_Acorns (Feemor!!!)

With the Beskar bread from Feemor: Of Crechemasters and Archivists and Outtakes by Mithril_and_Acorns

Defying Expectations has a part about beads too.

Guard Feemor fics: list

The one where fem!Obi-Wan goes back all sneaky like to a compound where she was held prisoner: Ner Mesh'la Cyar'ika by wearethewitches.

The one where Jaster goes 'I have your kid- oh, wait, no! fuck! I meant we found your baby Jedi!': Buir by SkybreakPrime.

The one with time traveling Obi painting his beskar 212 gold/orange: (and now I lay myself down) and hope I wake up young again by cjwritesfanficnow

The one with the fanfic writing clone: Clone Company Companion by therehavebeenworsenames.

The AU with the unintentional Jedi shrine and safe place: they're neutral by deniigiq.

The one where Obi-Wan adopts all the clones. It's Buir Obi-Wan: He Let the Bounty Hunter Go by Lemonsunset

The one with post-war clone happiness/establishing their lives: Post here.

The one where Obi-wan and Jaster steal Bacta Robin Hood-style, making it more affordable by printing the code to make it across the internet: The Gift by handdrawnisopach, SniperAnon (The_Big_Reveal).

That one with the cave in where Obi-Wan rescued padawans from the corps: To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For) by Batsutousai

That fic where Obi-Wan, Quinlan and Bruck get trapped in a mediation with Sifo-Dyas before Obi-Wan brings them out: The Temple by me_again.

The one where Young Obi-Wan is sold to a spice frieghter instead of the deep sea mines, meets Jango there and they become family: Mand'alor bal Kaysh Vod'ika (The Mand'alor and His Brother) by sometimes_i_right

The one where young Obi-wan and Quinlan have a force bond, and can feel baby Maul through the force, and call him 'brother in the dark': The Temple by me_again.

That one with dualsex Obi, who was previously with Quinlan who wasn't attracted to his 'feminine parts': When You Say Nothing, You Miss the Understanding by MusicSoul1982

When Plo Koon has both the knife and gift in his hands (metaphorically): A Mandalorian Guide on How To Save the Jedi in Just Three Easy Steps by miyaji_08

The one with the mouse droids who go after ankles: Mando'jekai jedi by Anonymous.

#fic recs #lost fic #found fic #star wars #star wars prequels #codywan #jangobi #jedi culture #jedi braids and beads #padawan braid

[hanasnx]

au where getting married as a jedi is allowed!

anakin and yours wedding would be so pretty 🫤 and him proposing would be so romantic 😫

omfg yes :,) like i know this man would consume cheesy romance novels/holo-films as his guilty pleasure and hed really brainstorm a good way to propose.

even ask obi wan about it bcos hes been happily married to satine in this au. kenobi is rly happy for him and helps him get over his nerves about it “she’s gonna love it, anakin, anything you come up with she’ll love. have you seen the way she looks at you? you could give her a garbage can for a gift and she’d love it. make the proposal real, personal, and from the heart,”

the way ive always imagined something like proposing/wedding with anakin would be private. for him, all that matters is that youre there. so like i see some forest planet, somewhere neither of you are to be disturbed. soft music, dancing slowly with you, and asking you to be his wife.

and then he does you in the gazebo he just proposed to you in—

and the wedding? he’d allow that to be more social. kinda like letting the people that care about the two of you be a part of something special. not for him, but for you and for them- thats why he does it i think. i think the color scheme would be gold, and white, with black and deep red accents. and itd be sanctioned by the temple cos the jedi order is kinda religious to me.

i feel like it wouldn’t be like the christian weddings here, but i do see mace windu giving a speech about how “this sandy boy from tattooine has grown into a man who does his duty, and is one of the bravest soldiers i’ve been honored to fight alongside” and “the force flows through all living things, guides us to the right path. i’m proud to be a part of this one,”

i just love the idea of slow dancing with anakin. doing that at the wedding too reminds me of how he proposed to you and then the gazebo scene.. so you get worked up and you two sneak off from your own wedding to rendezvous somewhere private.

come back in all your disheveled clothes and hair to rejoin the party and obi wan shakes his head because he knows exactly what you two did—

#anon #thanks for the msg!! #indy shoots the shit #star wars #anakin skywalker smut #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #tcw #the clone wars #sw #wife!reader #x y/n #x f!reader #x fem!reader #x female!reader #established relationship #anakin skywalker imagine

[scribble-dribble-writes]

I don't know what this is. Just a bit of a ramble haha

Namor - Midnight tides

Dark skies, you stood by the shore, your feet wet my the waves that wanted to lead you home. But without the moon to carve out his shape and the howling wind drowning out the sound of his wings, you didn't know how to find him. The pain of wanting led you to walk longer, aimlessly like a woman in search of her sanity because you craved his touch. To feel important, to feel needed. His words held calm reassurance and you desired it now.

I will find you when the stars come out to play when the moon has gone home to stay.

So you held on, like an white ghoul that traced the horizon of heaven and earth. And as the tide rose, there he was, emerging out of the sea with a fervent thirst, one that could only be quenched by you. His black marble eyes took you in, while all you could do was stay rooted, feeling like the land beneath you would eat you whole, but his arm wrapped around you, drenching you in salt water too. Making the fine fabric stick to your curves like revealing enough to entice.

He tilted your chin almost as if he wanted to say that you were too brave to walk into this. Too brave to choose him. Your heart beat giving away the truth behind the effect he had on you, as you leaned closer, always wanting more. The edge of his lip tilted up, almost as if he was proud, because he knew he could satisfy you. With gold and treasures, but mostly with his love.

There was no question over how he felt because he showed it. His liquid eyes drooling over the sight of you, his ancient arms pining you to the wall of the cove and his ocean lips kissing you wherever he pleased like the water running over you. The moment he lets you go, you're a magnet to his frame. Clinging onto him, running your fingers into his hair, your chest placed right on his to have his heart beat reverb through you. Your dress now just another skin as it gives way, moving like fish fins in the shallow pool, there was no doubt, you belonged to the sea just as he did.

No hindrances, no passing ships, just his low breathless chuckle as he kisses you again, giving you a reason to wait for midnight tides.

Obi wan - Ragged breaths and twisted limbs

There was always a tell. The way he raised his eyebrow with well trained elegance. The slow grin, there was a way to read his mind and only you knew how. But those moments were many, littered through the day and during missions. He held himself together well and everyone commended him for it. His hair set into place, his shirts ironed to a crisp, his well placed smile and soft hands. It was only you who knew another side of him, a side he displayed when he wanted something. When he wanted you. His selfless shell falls away and his soft blue eyes turn into a sapphire pool.

So how does he do it?

He lies in wait, when the sky turns black and as coruscant comes alive, there's a part of him that revives. He emerges from the shadows with soft moonlight kissing his skin but there's an edge to it. You know his steps when you feel his warmth close to you, as the keys jingle in your hands. This is where it gets fun, to tease him, to slow it down but he takes the keys from your hands, with one hand he opens the door with the other he keeps you in place, giving you no room to escape. Its gentle and wild, sweet and savory, how he turns into this marvelous lover. The metal tip of the keys hit a ceramic bowl like the chime of clock, like when the clock strikes twelve and he's letting this deprived persona out from the restraints of the morning.

You let him be, to come to you as you move away to create a chase to this game. He shrugs away his robes and he catches your hand that you had rested on the countertop as you read the letters you received today. Most about bills and a few other about council projects, none as interesting as his warmth on your fingers. He asks you for your help, when you knew this was his trap to get you close but you walk into it knowingly. To unlatch his belt from his hips, so you do as asked but watch his lips part at the proximity in which you stood, the belt buckle hits the floor like the sound of a lock being set free.

But his hands lay firm on either side of your hips as he holds your gaze. He toys with you, grabbing the edge of your shirt to pull it free from where it had been tucked in. To play with the buttons as he popped them out one by one, his eyes no longer blue but now wide like black moons. You ask him what he wants but he doesn't answer, almost as if the reply was not needed, his eyes did the talking.

So you move away and he grumbles, annoyed of this cat and mouse game. This was the best part, to hold the power to drive him insane, to watch him throw away his robe and pull away his shirt because he knew you too well, that you loved the endless extent of his smooth skin. He turned away from you, his bare back well sculpted as he drank a glass of water, you wondered how long he could keep himself away.

So you walk in front of him with only your loose long shirt on, with your hair set free to their wavy state and your makeup removed. He caught sight of you and that was the last taunt. Because now he threw you over his shoulder and locked the bedroom door. No more running, no more places to hide. Your laughed filled the air as you ruffled his hair, making it mused into a chaotic mess that you admired.

He dropped you onto the mattress as you held your arms out in a mock fight to push him away but he sat on top of your legs, his knees on either side of you, pining your down. He caught your arms and peeled them away so that you weren't hidden anymore.

The shirt was no longer needed because he deemed it so, as he pulled away the buttons and well you weren't sure of what happened next. All you could remember were your lips on his chest, his fingers in your hair, a long night of twisted limbs and ragged breaths. He would go back to being the Jedi tomorrow morning but tonight, he was the boy who deserved love. So you gave it.

#namor #tenoch huerta namor #mcu namor #obi wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #obi wan my beloved #namor fic #namor fanfiction #namor fluff #obiwan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x reader #obi wan #obi wan series #obiwan x fluff #obiwan kenobi #namor x reader #namor x y/n

[galaxysiegefics]

Obi Wan Fluff HCs

Part 1 of ?

Trigger Warnings: None

Description: This is how I believe Obi Wan Kenobi would treat Y/N in a secret relationship hidden from the council.

-----

- Sometimes you catch him zoning out (even in public in some instances) because he just loves your little mannerisms. Kenobi finds you breathtaking and even tells you so out of ear shot of everyone else.

- He gets quiet when Anakin is around. He may not be aware of the relationship between you completely... but he certainly would take any chance possible to laugh at his master by making crude jokes and assumptions.

- Obi Wan isn’t a fan of reading out loud. However, if you ask him nicely enough to read you to sleep, he just cannot say no. He has a hard time saying no to you about most things as a matter of fact. Sometimes you’ll lean on his shoulder and instead of having him read to you, you just read along with him. Often times he’ll finish a page or both of them before you and he’ll wait for you to catch up.

- After years of dealing with Anakin, Obi Wan has indestructible patience. If you two were to ever get into a fight, he would be the level-headed voice of reason. He would be big on communication. He wouldn’t argue with you often though, he likes to hear about the way you see things as well as your pressing opinions. 

- Kenobi would definitely dote over you in private. He would hold your face in his hands and compliment you at the most random times. Ex. “ Y/N, you never cease to amaze me with that brilliant mind of yours.’ or perhaps... “Never change, darling. You have a heart of gold”

- In settings where you can’t make people suspicious, he would stand just behind you. In fact, it would be considered closer to looming than ‘standing’. Obi Wan would also “accidentally” brush elbows with you and try to laugh it off in order to keep things obscure... He never seemed to realize that blushing wildly and stammering over his words when he did so was as suspicious as things could get from an outside view.

- I feel like he would totally lay his head in your lap and find complete Zen. As a matter of fact, it would be one of his favorite places to lay. He would close his eyes and slowly drift off. Sometimes when you shift slightly, he’d come to with a start and play it off as if he was awake the whole time...You wouldn’t buy it.

- When you first realize your feelings for each other, Obi Wan would be a little awkward about physical affection. Every time you two kissed for literal months he would ask straight up, “May I kiss you?” no matter the circumstance. When it came to cuddling, he was a bit stiff. He wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but he was worried about making you feel that way. Eventually he gets over this.

-After Obi gets used to things, he peppers your face with kisses. He would kiss your hand, each of your cheeks, your nose, your chin, and then your forehead before offering you a handsome smolder.

- Normally he is very put together and keeps his emotions balanced well. However, when he drinks he almost becomes vulnerable. Occasionally, he would drink in your presence (with you if you like to drink) and every time he would end up opening up to you in a new way. He often reminisces over the past and tells you stories about when he was a young padawan. Obi Wan also told you about Qui Gon when he was particularly drunk one night.

- For some reason I feel like he would absolutely hog the bed. He would be a blanket robber for sure. Some nights you might even wake up to find all of the blankets on the floor. Obi Wan wouldn’t necessarily fall asleep holding you every night but he would have to be touching you in some way. Even your knee against his leg would suffice.

- His body would be somewhat muscular yet comfortable... and unbelievably warm at all times. If it was over 80 degrees wherever you two were sleeping, you would purposely roll to the edge of the bed to escape his space heater of a body.

- Obi Wan is absolutely ticklish but he’s going to tell you he’s not for so long. Looks like you’ll have to prove him wrong. You don’t even need to completely touch his sides before he starts chuckling sometimes.

- He’s really good at pouting as well as huffing and puffing. Normally he gets like this because of having to constantly nag at his reckless padawan. If you ask him about it, he’ll complain for as long as he needs to in order to vent his frustrations. Normally after a good 10 minutes you have him completely distracted and back to his usual self.

- You make jokes about him graying from stress and he glares through you for it.

- In turn, he makes jokes about you graying from being stressed out that he’s stressed out... Touche, Kenobi.

FIN... For now? 

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan imagine #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #star wars #star wars headcanons #kenobi #head canon #fan fiction #fluff