Tumgik
#implied obikin
yeshihellodani · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
This guy strikes again! (With a little same age Padawans au sprinkled over there)
Sorry for being very inactive, but school has been kicking my ass and has drained me of energy :”^ but I’ll try to post more often
Close ups:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bonus:
Tumblr media
Commissions info
125 notes · View notes
liltaireissocute · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
this shirt
21 notes · View notes
strawberryreddy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
actually anakin is in the audience
59 notes · View notes
gaily-daily · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
No one: ...
Author of SW Brotherhood: Obi-Wan is going to have thick, luscious hair even longer than in AotC! His long locks will flow in the wind like a model in a holo ad... Also Anakin is wracked with envy. Just absolutely simmering with jealousy and lust
24 notes · View notes
bon-sides-sw · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media
Mommy 💖💖💖
[Uni Au]
547 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
A future forming, a curse undone...
(I decided they deserved a little family vacation to Naboo, as a treat)
538 notes · View notes
babkaboy · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
mommywan
251 notes · View notes
miraclepoisons · 10 months
Text
motherly mothering mommywan
Tumblr media
470 notes · View notes
unspuncreature · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
anakin in lingerie WIP
108 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
local padawan enters his manipulate mansplain malewife era, more at 11:00
1K notes · View notes
yeshihellodani · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anakin sketches to start the year!
Commissions info
88 notes · View notes
tennessoui · 2 months
Text
wip wednesday (early cause im offline tmrw)
When the dust settles, Obi-Wan is surprised to find himself still standing.
It takes all of him, he thinks, the end of the war. It takes everything he has.
He used to wonder, in a distant, nebulous way, what it would feel like in the aftermath. How his life would return to the routines he held before Geonosis, if the cadence of Temple life would feel strange and unfamiliar to him after so long spent in the trenches. If he would miss the sound of his men behind and around him, the steady stream of words and laughter and presence of others, at all times, surrounding him.
It’s only when the dust settles, when the first grains of sand whip through the arid desert air to sting his eyes, that he realizes that every time he ever allowed himself to think about the end of the war, he’d always assumed that they would win. He had never truly thought they would be defeated. That the Jedi Order, the Temple itself, so strongly entrenched in the galaxy and in Coruscant and in Obi-Wan’s world view, were capable of falling.
He had cautioned others against the same assumptions the moment he heard them. He had warned his own padawan to not look too far into the future, to not plan too much for the war’s end. He had told many people—clones, civilians, holonet reporters, other Jedi—that it was dangerous to think of the war as something they would inevitably win. Nothing was inevitable, especially not victory.
But he realizes now, only now, only as he traverses the desert on the back of a stolen eopie, wearing robes still smelling so strongly of volcanic sulfur that his eyes are stinging with reactionary tears, that he’d thought. He’d always thought. 
He’d never really considered…this.
This aftermath, where he is still standing on shaking legs and everything that he has ever cared for in the world has become ash, has become the dust settling around him.
Everything he has ever known and loved and fought for has slipped through his fingers. When the dust settles, when he looks down at his hands, he expects to find them empty.
Instead, there is a baby in his arms.
And he knows—he knows intimately how much damage these hands are capable of. What hurt these hands can inflict even on those he loves. Loved. 
He knows, as the homestead rises up in the fading light of the two suns, that these hands should not cradle this baby. Not the son of the man he has murdered. Not his brother’s son. Not his padawan’s. Not Anakin’s.
He knows the babe is safest here on this farm in the care of this couple. He knows he must leave the child with them, to raise and love a thousand times better than he is capable of. He has tried before. He has failed one Skywalker already.
He knows. 
And he can’t. He cannot let him go.
While the Galactic empire rises on one side of the galaxy, the dust settles on the other and Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the babe in his hands and realizes that he cannot let him go.
Not another Skywalker.
65 notes · View notes
Writing exercise
I wanted to have some fun and do a little writing exercise, so I've written some short disjointed flashes of a perhaps larger fic, inspired by this prompt list.
I'll be posting one a day for the next fifteen days.
The Sith
"I have dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist," the Sith whispered against his ear, sending a tingle down his spine in anticipation.
When a hot mouth sucked his earlobe in, biting none too gently, he gasped in pained pleasure, writhing against the strong body that held him trapped between it and the cold wall.
A moan escaped him at the sensation of a well-trimmed beard brushing the sensitive skin on his neck, but he refused to give in too easily and he managed to force out, "maybe if you ask really nicely I can make your dream come true."
"Oh, darling," came the purring reply, "you know our little game better than that, you'll be the one begging at the end."
2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.
55 notes · View notes
obikindred · 2 months
Text
This is so stupid and I kind of want to add more to it but. Blehh. So here it is like this for now… anakin gleefully recounts his master’s childhood trauma to ahsoka because he thinks its funny
69 notes · View notes
hannibalzero · 2 months
Text
Retirement
Obikin 🐰⭐️🐰⭐️🐰
Han Solo walked out into the landing pad. “Hey! Buddy! You can’t park here! You listening?” He called out before recognizing the ship.
“Klark…”
Chewbacca growled in agreement.
“You said it buddy.” Han agreed walking over to the ship as the landing stared stairs folded out. As the metal door opened. “Hello In-laws.” Han greeted the couple.
“Solo…” Anakin greeted, age had mellowed out the once wild child of the force. He had aged like everyone did but his age seemed to match his once master, Obi-wan was holding Anakin’s arm as they made it down the steps.
They moved as a unit now.
“Hello there..” Obi-wan greeted, age had treated Obi-wan well it seemed. Still as handsome as could be along with Anakin.
“Hey, didn’t Leia ask you both not to be plotting? We would have sent you tickets for a space cruser.” Han pointed as he spoke.
“Oh…did she?” Obi-wan asked in fake surprise.
“Keep pointing at him smuggler, I’ll cut that finger off.” Anakin growled before rolling his eyes. “I don’t like being crowed.” Anakin hated Han Solo.
“Merchant.” Han corrected
Leia could have done so much better. Yet she went for the scruffy loudmouth man with a wookie best friend. Shame really, Anakin had liked that singer that leia dated with his twin brother. (Blues brothers joke!)
Least those men were driven and proud of their work and treated Leia like an empress. Like she deserved.
“Now, where is Ben? I’m sure he’s exited to see us and Lukes new family.” Obi-wan asked “he had a new baby, Rey is her name. Then adopted his husbands son Grogu. It’s so nice to have everyone together.” Obi-wan asked
Han wished for death at this moment…
In-laws sucked.
21 notes · View notes
lilredghost · 4 months
Text
WIP Wednesday Thursday
(Sorry guys, I forgot how calendars work 😂)
Obi-Wan claims his own diva, painted a deep green with yellow and orange accents.
He places a cotton wick in the center, filling the lamp carefully with oil. He has to hold the wick down with a finger to make sure it soaks properly, huffing with irritation when he realises there must be some trick to doing it without getting your fingers wet.
Maybe I'll figure it out next year, he thinks-- and the idea fills him with a jolt of unexpected longing.
He wants to be here next year, wants to stay in this little lineup of Anakin's family, knowing he's loved and-- and accepted.
Shmi turns to him then, her own diva already lit, face creased in a broad smile.
She speaks, words heavy with meaning: "From mother to child, I pass my knowledge on to you."
Obi-Wan searches her expression and finds-- to his astonishment-- complete sincerity. As far as he can tell, she means it.
He is… her child. Her son-in-law, perhaps, but a son nonetheless.
Obi-Wan has not been a son to anyone since he was thirteen.
27 notes · View notes