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ao3feed-obikin · 4 years

Text

Soulbound

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132569

by intermundia

The first place they met was on World of Warcraft, where Anakin is a tank who pulls recklessly and Obi-Wan is his long-suffering healer. The second place they met was at a random bar on a snowy Tuesday night in December

“Excuse me,” Obi-Wan’s voice came out almost level, almost polite, “Are you Vaderkin?”

“Benobi?” Vader’s jaw dropped, and he looked aghast, searching Obi-Wan’s face and shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible. You’re not him. He’s old.”

“I am not old,” Obi-Wan ground out, trying to keep his anger from coloring his words, with moderate success. “And nothing I have ever said to you has been either disproportionate or unjustified, Vader. I am not unfair, and I am not too critical. I may be annoying, but you absolutely do deserve to get yelled at.”

Words: 11690, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Quinlan Vos

Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, References to World of Warcraft, Porn with Feelings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Body Worship, Scars, Light Dom/sub, Praise Kink, Anal Sex, Feelings Realization

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132569

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #obikin #star wars

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glare-gryphon · 7 years

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Vaderkin......Benobi? Is there Benobi? Maybe just after he gets to Tatooine and is just starting to collect just the right amount of sand that he's just salty about everything. ( I used just 4 times in one sentence, go my grammatical skills!)

Here U go kiddo. A short thing.

Rating: T

Pairings: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker/Padme Amidala (Past), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker (Past), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Vader

Additional Tags: Post-Mustafar AU, Obi-Wan Raises Luke & Leia, Vaderkin

~1300 Words

Ben Kenobi is one of them; the people of Mos Eisley know this. He is an offworlder, a stranger, a hermit, but he is a survivor. Sometimes they will see him as he wanders the marketplace like a ghost, hood pulled up to protect his too-pale complexion from the heat of the twin suns. He barters well, buying the supplies necessary for living among the Wastes, though the harsh syllables of Huttesse are strange in the crisp, Core accent he isn’t able to shed. Still, his presence is a rarity.

Rarer still are the days he is shadowed, two small figures trailing behind him and clinging to his robes. Unlike Kenobi, these are children of the Tatooine desert: tan-skinned, lean-muscled. More suited to survival beneath twin suns than their guardian, with his pale color and too-heavy build. They are a sight to behold, the Wizard’s children, though catching a glimpse of them falls along the same vein as finding a Krayt dragon’s pearl among the dunes.

They are absent today as he wanders between the stalls, trading Bantha-goods for supplies with his usual vendors. One moment he is smiling, another rarity in the children’s’ absence, the next he is rigid. His head snaps around, posture rigid, as he watches several of the new Empire’s Stormtroopers push their way into the marketplace.

The people of Mos Eisley know the hunted when they see them. Their eyes follow Kenobi as he slips into the flow of foot traffic, keeping his face downcast and his pace purposefully leisurely as he weaves toward the closest exit. He is effortlessly casual, though effortlessly casual is not the thing to be in a market full of Stormtroopers. Several vendors, sensing trouble, begin packing their things in a hurry to make themselves scarce; the rest remain to spectate, too curious about the fate of their local phantom.

He almost makes it. The exit, his parked speeder, are only a few yards away. Ben can see them, can taste freedom on his tongue, but in the next moment his path is blocked by a black-armored chest. He is grateful he left the twins at the homestead today—knows who this is before he’s even looked up.

In the end, he doesn’t bother to. In the end, he just runs. Spinning on his heel, Ben only just manages to avoid the black gloves that reach for him, taking off as fast as the sandy ground will allow him.

He weaves through the crowded aisles, aware of the sounds of pursuit behind him. The denizens of Mos Eisley step out of his path as he goes, clearing way. He may be a stranger, an outcast, a hermit, but he is father of two desert-children. Loyalty is a fragile thing in the desert, but they will grant him this small gesture.

“Obi-Wan!” He hears his pursuer snarl, feels fingers brush the back of his cloak, and is so focused on a speeder just ahead (empty, still-running, like that ever happens in this place) that he nearly overlooks the patrol of ‘troopers that stand in a blockade of white armor between himself and freedom.

But Ben is a Jedi General, the very last of his kind, and blockades are nothing new to him. His ally is the Force, and a few warm bodies won’t be enough to stop him. He leaps, using the wall of the alley as a springboard to propel himself higher. Up and up and up and over, until he lands safely in a roll on the other side of his obstacle. Sand catches in his robes as he tumbles, falls from folds when he rights himself and begins to run once more, but he pays it no mind. He leaps onto the speeder, has just pressed down on the ignition, when he feels the unmistakable tug of the Force around him.

Ben is yanked backwards even as the speeder shoots ahead, flying out from under him and careening aimlessly down the street until it crashes into the wall of a derelict building. The ground rises to meet him, and the pressure shifts. Instead of pulling him back, it is pressing him down. Holding him there in the sand until a pair of black boots are all that fill his vision. Only then does he allow himself to look up.

The man who was once Anakin Skywalker looks just the same as the last time Obi-Wan saw him nearly four years ago. Molten eyes, like the fires of Mustafar, peer down at him with curiosity and sick delight. His blond hair tumbles down to his shoulders in untidy curls, glowing like a halo under the light of the twin suns. It is a shocking counterpoint to the Darkness that radiates from him, as though he is the epicenter of a great black hole, sucking in heat and light and hope. This is Darth Vader, the Emperor’s Right Hand. This is the man Obi-Wan once thought himself to love.

The pressure holding him down relents at the same time Vader crouches, leaving them on even ground when Ben pushes himself to his knees. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” this once-lover purrs. “What a surprise to find you here, my husband.”

Ben does not dignify him with a response, turning his face away from Vader with obvious contempt. The man before him is not worthy of his time—is not worthy of the love Ben had once freely given. He shed the title of Husband when he shed his true name, becoming Ben the Hermit, Ben the Wizard, Ben the Father in their wake. Obi-Wan the Husband died with Anakin Skywalker’s wife.

“I had wondered where you had gotten off to, after what happened on Mustafar. And to think: I was angry when my Master sent me here to negotiate with the Hutts.”

An expectant pause; Vader is waiting for banter. He is waiting for Obi-Wan to engage. Ben will not give him the pleasure of a fight.

“Four years, and you’re not going to say anything to me?”

Silence again, except for the muttering of bystanders and the clicking of Stormtrooper armor as they shuffle in place.

A sigh.

Vader reaches out, lightning-fast, catching Ben’s chin in a firm grip and dragging it toward him. “Look at me,” he snarls when Ben continues to resist, a sharp yank finally turning the older man to face him. Ben tries to keep his expression impassive and unimpressed when Vader’s other hand brushes the fringe from his eyes, but it’s harder than he expected to suppress the repulsed shudder that wants to rack through him at the sight of the soft smile on Vader’s face. Anakin Skywalker had look at him like that, once. “There’s that beautiful face.”

Vader takes a long moment to drink in the sight, oblivious to the way Ben scowls up at him. Then, from one moment to the next, his expression changes. The smile drops, and he releases Ben as he abruptly stands and snaps a sharp order to, “Cuff him.”

Ben protests, struggling against the 'troopers that wrestle his wrists into binders behind his back.

“Take him back to the ship.”

“W-wait!” Ben stutters, thoughts flying to the twins back on the homestead. The twins Vader doesn’t know exist. The twins Vader could kill in a jealous rage if he finds the homestead and doesn’t recognize them. The twins who believe their birth father a ghost—the hero of a time past. “No, I can’t leave yet! Vader! Vader!”

“Find out where he’s been hiding,” he hears the Sith command as the 'troopers drag him away. The people of Mos Eisley step out of the way. No one stops them, no one saves him. Loyalty is fragile in the desert. Ben is one of them, but survival comes first.

#Gryph Fic #Obikin #Vaderwan

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