#obi-wan immediately gets dragged away by the twins before he can open his mouth

[tennessoui]

1. Soulmates AU please! It is definitely my guilty pleasure trope

hello im only three months ish late maybe four but this is also 3.4k long and it's just wild i mean we're talking soul mates, superheroes, rushed world building, superhero names this is a trip this is something i wrote after waking up from a four hour nap this ever had a chance and also it's sad

1. Soul Mates (+ 42. Star Crossed Lovers)

“You shouldn’t have come,” Obi-Wan says harshly, pulling the children--they’re just goddamn children--into his apartment and slamming the door behind them. “Did anyone see you?”

The children--all four of them--stay quiet. Obi-Wan wants to wring their necks. He knows why they’re here. He’d rather them die on the streets than suffer through what they’re obviously here about.

But if that were really true, he would have just left them on his doorstep.

“Did anyone see you?” he asks again.

“Not that we noticed,” one of the girls in the middle says. Shili, dressed in a blue and white striped sensible jumpsuit and sporty cape. The leader of the new generation of superheroes and she sounds like she hasn’t even hit puberty yet.

Obi-Wan is suddenly very, very tired.

“Kam,” Shili gestures to the person next to her and a little behind, a tall boy with a helmet covering his face and white and blue armor covering the rest of him, “says he didn’t pick up anything with his sensors. We were safe. We’re not trying to get you caught, sir. We just need to talk to you.”

“You could kick us out,” the other girl points out, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not even bothering to wear a domino mask, but Obi-Wan doubts very much he’s looking at her real appearance. She’s Mirial, of course.

Which makes the other boy in a padded white and orange suit Mando. Four of the fifty or so remaining Jedi superheroes are in his house.

Obi-Wan sighs and turns to pad down the hallway. “Shoes off,” he calls behind his shoulder. “And does anyone want any tea?”

“No thank you,” Shili responds politely, falling into step behind him.

“Sit,” he tells them roughly when he notices the four of them standing awkwardly in his cramped dining room. “Sit down.”

He puts the kettle on anyway, and bangs around the cabinets for a few seconds to find an unopened bag of chips and a sleeve of probably stale cookies.

He doesn’t have much else to offer them though. Not now.

Weren’t you the one always telling me to eat my vegetables? A laughing voice murmurs into his ear. Look at you now.

Obi-Wan has to stand for a second in his small and dirty kitchen, chips clutched in one hand and cookies in the other, and breathe for an impossibly long moment.

This is why he had not wanted to ever see another Jedi in his life. All they brought with them were questions and ghosts.

Obi-Wan has enough of those as it is.

The kettle goes off and he pours the hot water into his mug. The cowardly part of him that hasn’t faced a fight in ten years now wants to wait here until the tea has finished steeping and then think of a thousand other excuses to not ever leave the kitchen again. He's good at thinking of excuses. He calls them reasons and lives his life with them.

But he has always known someone would eventually come looking for answers. That had always been one of the prices he knew he would eventually have to pay.

He notices immediately upon entering the dining room that they’ve saved him a seat, if it counts as saving someone a seat when they’ve rearranged the chairs so one is on one side of the table and the other two are squeezed opposite it.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought snacks to my own interrogation,” he says blithely, depositing them onto the table in front of the children.

Kamino stares intently at them for a second, and then nods once to Shili, who reaches out to open the bag of chips. In a show of good faith, she takes one and eats it. Obi-Wan can’t see her eyes underneath the white lenses of her domino mask, but he’s quite sure she hasn’t stopped looking at him once.

“Are you sure you do not want tea, now we have established I am not going to poison you?” he asks, crossing his ankles and taking a sip from his own mug.

“It’s a bit too warm out there for hot tea,” Mirial says disdainfully, looking at her nails. “You know, what with the world on fire.”

“But I’d take an iced one, if you have it,” Shili leans forward.

Obi-Wan pauses, drink halfway to his mouth.

He sets it down gently on the wood of his table. “Ah. Going straight in, aren’t we?”

“There’s not much time for anything else,” Mando says, and at least he sounds a bit apologetic.

“A weighty statement from someone who can manipulate time itself,” Obi-Wan hums.

“Only for a few seconds,” Mando mutters behind his helmet, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“That’s because you don’t have much in the way of training, young man,” Obi-Wan tells him gently with a hint of steel behind it “Back in my day--”

He cuts himself off. He doesn’t know why. Clearly, they know who he used to be. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here. He’s really just delaying the inevitable, but his throat feels tight. This truth, so long unspoken, is hard to drag into his mouth. And yet, every second he doesn’t speak it, it’s bashing itself to death against the backs of his teeth.

“Would you like us to tell you what we’ve found out about your days?” Mirial asks, looking up from her nails. “Would that make it easier for you, Ilum?”

“Meer--” Shili starts to say, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm, rein her in, but it’s too late.

The planes of Mirial’s face change and shift and suddenly for the first time in ten years, Anakin Skywalker is sitting across from him. “Would you like to talk about the old days, or would you like me to talk about the old days?” Mirial in Anakin’s smooth baritone asks.

It’s cruel. It’s so cruel that for a second Obi-Wan wishes his heart could just stop from the pain of it all. “Please put that away,” he tells the tabletop coldly. “And please. Do not call me that.”

“Meer,” Shili murmurs, and there’s a shift in the air.

When Obi-Wan looks back up, Mirial is back to the way she always appears in press releases, green skin and all. “That was a decent impression,” he tells her. She bristles at the perceived slight, but he holds up his hand. “But when I knew him, his eyes weren’t gold. They were blue.”

“Mustafar has had golden eyes since he joined the Imps,” Mirial argues back in a way that reminds Obi-Wan of another young teenager, who never could learn how to take criticism well.

“And he was someone else before then,” he tells the girl. “He had another name and he had a mother and he had a soulmate and a--fiancee and everything.”

His hands have started to shake, so he clasps the mug tightly, though it burns him.

“Tell us,” Shili insists forcefully but compassionately. Obi-Wan had wondered before why they had chosen to make the girl whose only ability is to fly the leader of the newest Jedi team, but it must be that. It must be her compassion. “Please. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “I know. I’m the only one who is left. But if I am to demask myself, I will not do it to a table of strangers.”

The children turn to look at each other. Kamino cocks his head at Shili, who inclines her own head. Mirial shrugs. Mando shakes his head once, but Shili seems to override him, because she turns back to Obi-Wan and takes off her domino mask.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” she says, stumbling over the name. Obi-Wan wonders how many times she’s unmasked herself before. “Or Shili.”

She nudges Mirial, who sighs. “I’m Barriss,” she tells him grudgingly.

Kamino takes off his helmet to reveal a strong-jawed boy with a blond buzzcut. “His name is Rex,” Ahsoka says. “He can’t speak except through minds.”

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise at this. He had known that Kamino had an advanced sense of the senses, could tell something’s molecular makeup just by looking at it, could smell a gas leak from two miles away, etcetera, etcetera, but he hadn’t known the boy could communicate telepathically as well.

“And I’m his twin,” Mando sighs, taking off his own helmet and revealing a startlingly similar face, marred by a scar just across his temple. “Cody.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Obi-Wan tells them, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know already. I fought under the name Ilum. I could--”

He searches for words to describe his own powers, and settles instead on a demonstration. With a flick of his hand, the liquid in the mug rises and freezes into a miniature wave, suspended in the air.

He lets the ice drop into the mug, and inclines his head to Ahsoka. “Iced tea?” he asks wryly.

“Tell us about Mustafar,” Mando demands. What a heavy thing to carry, Obi-Wan finds himself thinking. The knowledge of all that time.

What Obi-Wan wouldn’t give to be ten years younger again. Not to even change anything, though he would be stupid to not try to. But to just enjoy the moment for what it had been in the end: just a moment.

“We didn’t call him that then,” Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “We called him Iego in uniform, and Anakin in civvies.

“He was...radiant. In battle and off the field. I was the leader of our team for six years until Anakin came along. And I just knew as soon as I saw him that he would take everything from me. But he wouldn’t have had to take it. I would have given it to him right then.”

“I didn’t think he was that attractive,” Ahsoka mumbles, and then slaps a hand over her mouth as if afraid she’s spoken out of turn and ruined the story so completely that Obi-Wan won’t say anything else.

Instead, Obi-Wan laughs but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh at all. “Well, to each is his own, of course,” he says when he thinks the hysteria has worn off. “And finding out he carried my soul mark certainly helped.”

The room is blissfully silent, which Obi-Wan is beyond thankful for. He just wants to let those never-before admitted truths hang in the air, just for a few more seconds. He almost wants to say them again actually. Anakin Skywalker is my soulmate. Anakin Skywalker carries the same mark I carry, and he always has.

“But…” Barriss says slowly, “But Mustafar’s soulmark is on his neck.”

“It’s not,” Obi-Wan murmurs, staring at the wall behind their heads. “What he has on his neck is an ice burn scar in the shape of a hand. In the shape of my hand. His actual soul mark is on his mid-back, right over his spine.”

“You tried to kill your soulmate?” Ahsoka gasps, looking horrified.

Obi-Wan smiles with no joy behind it. “I tried to save the world,” he corrects her gently.

“You said earlier…” Cody speaks up. “That Mustafar--that Anakin had a fiancee. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “I never told him. I...couldn’t. I wanted to wait I suppose. I. Well. My soulmark is identical to his, but it’s on my thigh. And. You know what they say about a soulmatch whose marks aren’t in the same spot.” “Star crossed,” Ahsoka whispers.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirms. “I decided to wait. I was a few years older than him, he had so much to learn, he needed a friend more than he needed a soulmate. I had a long list of reasons, all as iron-clad as the next. But they were excuses. I was afraid. This man, my soulmate, could control fire and sunlight itself. He burned with passion, shone with power. And I...I was cold. Too pragmatic, too quick to criticize when he needed praise. The marks were just marks. Maybe they fit together, maybe they matched. But I was terrified that we wouldn’t.

“And by the time I thought to tell him, he came to find me instead. He was in love, he said. He had been seeing a girl for months and was going to ask her to marry him. And I suppose I must have asked about his soulmate, because he told me he would rather never know his soulmate, if knowing meant losing her.”

So. So Obi-Wan had let him go, though that part doesn’t make for a good story. He had distanced himself as much as he could get away with, which is not much really, seeing as how Iego and Ilum fought best when they fought together.

But in the end, his heartbreak had been too much, even for someone as cold as Obi-Wan had been known to be. He’d put in for a temporary transfer. A remedial medical leave, a Jedi-sanctioned sabbatical so he could ostensibly connect with himself and his powers. Nothing longer than a year.

You’ll miss the wedding, Anakin had told him, heartbreak shining in his own eyes.

But his heartbreak had been nothing compared to Obi-Wan’s, and so he had left. He had needed to. It had felt like rending his soul in two, but he had.

Two weeks into his stay at a different Jedi training base, Obi-Wan had died in an explosion. “That hadn’t been Jedi sanctioned,” he tells the children in front of him wryly. “We thought it was an accident at the time, but there were too many coincidences. Too many casualties.” But Obi-Wan’s death had been the only casualty Anakin had felt. It hadn’t mattered that someone had managed to restart his heart only a few minutes later. He had died. He had died and Anakin had felt his soulmate die. He had burned his fiancee in his own uncontrollable agony. She had not survived Obi-Wan’s death, even though Obi-Wan himself had.

“I...I don’t know what happened. Still. It’s been years and I have thought of little else. She may have been standing too close to him when it happened. Or...the house may have caught on fire and she was trapped inside. Or...I don’t know. I don’t know,” he spreads his hands palm up on the table and looks at the faces of the children.

He sighs and continues. There is so little left in the story now. “The Jedi Order decided to tell the press that there had been no survivors, though there had been a few. We couldn’t know if the Imperials were behind the attack or not, so we had to be careful. The survivor’s families were told, and their soulmates. Officially, I had no family. I had...no soulmate. They didn’t tell anyone I had survived. Ilum died in that explosion. Still to this day, he's dead.

“Anakin had always been absurdly powerful...and dangerous. He’d killed the love of his life, had felt his soulmate dying, and then...heard that I too had died. The first two had destabilized him, but my death and the Jedi Order’s staunch rejection of his request to see my body, to give me a funeral...it made him even more vulnerable to outside manipulation.”

“The Imperials….” Cody murmurs.

Obi-Wan nods, lip curling up. “The Imperials,” he agrees. “The timeline is fuzzy. I spent a good part of these weeks partially dead, one foot in both worlds. I didn’t know what was going on. When I was well enough to watch the news, the Jedi told me there was a new super villain working with the Imperials, going by the name Mustafar. I trained to kill him as he was helping the Imps decimate the Jedi. All of my old team was dead. Anakin was missing. I didn’t--”

He cuts himself off and runs a hand down his face. The children are waiting on his words. He’s telling them why they’re fighting wars adults should be fighting. He’s telling them why they’re out in the field after only a month or less of training. He’s trying to tell them why he isn’t out there fighting with them, but he knows already they won’t accept his excuses.

They shouldn’t have to.

“They gave me a new uniform and a new name,” Obi-Wan picks up the story. “Hoth. And I went off to kill my soulmate.”

“But you didn’t,” Barriss says, and she sounds vaguely confused and vaguely accusatory.

“I almost did,” Obi-Wan admits, like it’s a sin, like it's salvation. “Everything about him was different. He was not the passionate but warm boy I had known. He was a forest fire. A volcano. And Mustafar’s fighting style was completely different from Iego’s. I only realized it was Anakin--my Anakin--when I managed to knock his mask off. I had my hand around his throat, but when I realized who I was fighting...I let go. I couldn’t kill him. Even after everything he did. Even knowing...knowing Iego was gone.”

The dining room is silent for a second, before three voices burst out angrily at once.

“Why aren’t you helping the Jedi?” Ahsoka asks the loudest. “Hoth--Ilum, Obi-Wan. We need you. Mustafar--the Imperials...they’re not going to stop. They’ve killed so many Jedi. We need you to help us.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I cannot.”

“You used to be a hero,” Barriss accuses. “Now what are you? A hollowed out, sad man.”

“I was never a hero,” he snaps. “I followed orders. Anyone can do that.”

“You were the best,” Cody says quietly, cutting Obi-Wan to the bone. “You led the Geonosis team for six years. I studied you in class. You were...the best.”

“I wasn’t,” Obi-Wan disagrees just as quietly. “But perhaps you all are.”

“You haven’t even told us any weakness we could use against him in battle!” Barriss shouts, standing up suddenly, which causes the chair to clatter over. “You’ve been no help at all! I’m leaving, this is a waste of time!”

“Barriss--!” Ahsoka cries after the girl, grabbing her discarded mask and taking after her.

Cody opens his mouth and then closes it. He jams the helmet back onto his head. “The soulmark. You said it’s on his hip?”

Obi-Wan smiles mirthlessly. Cody is trying to see if he can catch him in a lie, if this is actually good tactical information or not. “It’s a few inches below his shoulder blades, right over his spine.”

Cody nods once and then files out, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the room with the silent, still helmetless Rex.

“I just told him how to kill my supervillain soulmate,” Obi-Wan tells Rex, even though he’s really talking to himself. “Soulmarks, even dead ones, are extremely sensitive. If Anakin had hit me with his fire on my other thigh, I would be dead. Not just crippled. Muscle, young man, doesn’t grow back easily.”

He rubs a hand over the leg in question, staring down at the uneven way his pants lay over the old injury. It aches from the walking he’s forced it to do today, from trying to walk normally im front of these powerful strangers.

Rex taps the table to get him to look up, and then gestures to his own eyes.

“I?” Obi-Wan asks, confused.

Rex rolls his eyes and then mimes writing something.

“Ah, there should be a pen and pad in the kitchen?” he trails off as the teenager goes to retrieve the aforementioned things.

It takes a second longer than it should, and he comes out carrying just a slip of paper with his helmet forced back onto his head.

With a flick of his fingers, the paper’s lying on the table and Rex is following his teammates out the door and out of Obi-Wan’s apartment and hopefully out of his life forever.

Curious, Obi-Wan grabs the note and unfolds it to read.

We thought Musta. had yel. eyes because all the top Imps have yel. eyes. But if Ankn had blue eyes, then mybe none of the imps should have yel eyes.

No one knows what sidious power is -> what if it’s mind control?

Obi-Wan puts the note down onto the table with shaking hands. He wishes desperately he had never read it.

Because those words plant a seed of hope in his chest he isn’t sure he’ll be able to live without now.

What if Anakin--his Anakin--what if he’s in there still? What if Obi-Wan had abandoned him to ten years of brainwashing and mind control with not much of a fight at all?

But more pressingly, what if there’s hope for him? For both of them? Still, after all this time?

#asks #my fics #look i did another prompt #obikin #superheroes au #i was thinkin of the robert frost fire and ice poem when i went to sleep #and this was the result lmao #obviously they end up together #idk what to tell you #probably big moment for anakin who still thinks obi-wan is dead #for him to show up ten years older than he ever thought he'd see him #limping and being called hoth #i liked the superhero names being after the planets they're from (i mean mostly #iego is cause of the angels thing and obi-wan is like oof hes radiant hes great hes an angel) #hes a mass murderer (again) is what he is #god i hope this fic makes sense its 4:41 #prompt fill

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) we can turn it into gold dust  STAR WARS

Jangobi Week Day 2 - Time Travel

A03

When Ben had first woken up in the past, he’d had nowhere to go. He hadn’t known where he was, what he was doing, or what he  would  do, he hadn’t even been aware that he  was in the past at first. He had still been shaking with adrenaline from his battle against - against Vader. Bone weary from the grief of losing his family, from the ache of the betrayal of his men, he hadn’t been sure of anything, but the fact that he’d had two children in his arms that needed protection and that he was no longer on Bail’s ship. No longer standing beside his Grandmaster and the body of one of his dearest friends.

At first, he hadn’t even realized that he was over a decade younger than he had been only months before, all he’d known was that he was immensely grateful for the peculiarities of Stewjoni biology, because he’d had two very hungry newborns to feed before he could truly wonder about what had happened.

He’d disguised himself as a farmer, hiding his and Anakins’ lightsabers, stealing some clothing from an abandoned homestead, and that had been when he’d truly gotten his first good look at his face, and he’d nearly retched in his shock. The face staring back at him had been fresh with young, a face round with immaturity and smattered with freckles Ben hadn’t worn since he was a Padawan, free of the beard he had once worn. He barely looked out of his teens, like he should still be following his Master around on missions and attending lessons in the Temple. He had stood them, bare as the day he had been born, for a long time, just staring at his reflection in the broken glass until one of the twins started wailing to be fed and Ben had forced himself to move.

Luke and Leia needed him, so he couldn’t let himself crumble.

Ben had forced himself to keep moving, because he had two orphaned infants who needed him for everything. Without him, they’d have no food, no warmth, no care - so he’d kept moving forward, looking to the Force for guidance. The lack of slimy Darkness around him had been a shock at first, had made him realize how  used to it he had become over the years, and it wasn’t only all from the two supernovas that he carried around with him, one strapped to his chest, the other to his back, as they’d worked their way through the countryside of a snow-covered planet that Ben didn’t recognize.

It had been beautiful, at least, seeing the sun glinting off of ice crystals and snow capped trees, white dusted on the undergrowth like a layer of powdered sugar on those donuts he remembered Garen enjoying a little too much when they had been children. He had spent too long confined to the war front and Coruscant, unable to see the beauty of nature like he could on the unknown planet he had found himself on.

The peace hadn’t lasted.

Urged on by the Force, Ben had kept walking, and eventually he’d found himself stumbling upon a camp of armoured Mandalorians - who had all seemed equally as surprised to see him as he was to see them. It had been a tense stand-off, staring down the business end of almost a hundred blasters, until Luke had started fussing under his coat, uneasy with the emotions being broadcasted into the Force and hungry once more.

The sights and sounds of a fussy baby had been the sign that the Mando’ade had needed, and Ben had found himself immediately ushered further into the camp by protective and worried warriors. They’d been utterly delighted when both children had been unveiled, like seeing a second infant was the most precious thing they’d all ever seen. He’d found himself and the twins herded to the tent at the very center of the camp, the most well-defended position with the best insulation and heating, private enough to let him breastfeed in peace. Eventually, a medic had come to him, carrying a scanner and leading a younger  verd laden with blankets and pillows behind xem. Blood work had been done, a medical profile created, and none of them had even blinked an eye when neither Luke or Leias’ genetics matched his own.

To them, he was Ben Tano, twenty years old, just another refugee who had gotten in over his head, who had taken in two orphans who had needed care and comfort.  Baar’ur Nawara had been knowledgeable and well-trained, and perhaps Ben shouldn’t have been as surprised as he had been that the Twi’Lek had known the specifics of Stewjoni biology, considering that Mandalorians had once been known to take in beings regardless of species, as long as they swore the  resol’nare.

Eventually, their leader had returned from scouting, had swept into the tent and into Ben’s life, and then there he had stayed.

It was then, shirtless under one of the blankets offered to him, cradling the twins in his arms as they’d fed, that the truth of his situation had truly sunk in, because when the buy’ce had come off, Ben had found himself staring into a hauntingly familiar face, one he had spent the last three years of his life surrounded by at all sides. Jango Fett, young enough that he could have been mistaken as one of his clones, dressed in  beskar’gam painted in a way that Ben had never seen, dark hair curling around a face unlined by years of hatred and suffering, had stared back at him. Barely out of his teenaged years himself, Jango Fett had proven himself to be a completely different person than the man Ben had met in his own time, the one that had consigned millions of his own children to a life of slavery and death. This was a Jango Fett who was still Mand’alor, still a leader among his people, one who had not yet been given the name of Jedi Killer - and Ben had made sure that he never would.

Somehow, he had been thrown decades into the past, in a body young enough that he could be mistake for a teenager, on Galidraan before the slaughter of the True Mandalorians, before the Mandalorian Civil War had truly spun out of control and Death Watch gained the amount of traction Ben had once known them to have. He’d been thrown into a past before Jango had given himself over to a life of vengeance, before the clones had even been created, and Ben had made sure it would never happen.

He mourned for the friends he lost by meddling; mourned good, strong Cody, kind Waxer and Boil, cheerful Wooley, and so many more that had been lost. He mourned for his 212th, who had betrayed him for reasons Ben doubted he’d ever know, for Rex and the 501st, for all of the clones who would never get to live. By making sure the True Mandalorians didn’t die on Galidraan, Ben had ensured that they’d never live, he had changed the course of history and everything he had known.

He had nowhere to go, no home to go back to - there was already an Obi-Wan Kenobi at the Temple, and even the thought of returning made him think of the bodies of his family on the floor, of smoke rising above the spires and fear staining the walls like blood. So when Jango had offered him a place with the True Mandalorians, among people he hadn’t known in his own time, he had accepted.

He had accepted, had become a Mandalorian, and, eventually, he became the  Be’alor as well.

An arm slides across his waist, pulling him closer against a warm, broad chest, and Ben feels lips press against the back of his neck, hot breath ruffling the shaggy copper hair there. “It’s too early to be thinking,  Mesh’la.” His husband murmurs, his end of their Force bond buzzing groggily, and Ben hums, enjoying the pleasant tingle of human contact, melting into Jango’s embrace as a large hand splays across the faint bump of his abdomen. “What’s wrong,  riduur? Is the  ikaad bothering you?”

“Just thinking,  cyar’ika.” He soothes, pulling away just enough that he can roll over to face his husband, letting the other man tuck his head under his chin, dark curls brushing against the clean shaven skin there, hand moving back to the ever-growing baby bump. This late in the night cycle, it’s just the two of them in the  Mand’alor’s suite, far too early as it is for even energetic five year olds to be running around. The Keldabe palace is a fortress, impenetrable and safe, and it lets Ben relax, allowing him to be sure that his  ade are safe. “It’s been five years.” He muses, almost amazed by the fact, playing absently with Jango’s soft hair.

Jango purrs deep in his chest as his nails drag over his scalp, a genetic hold over from the nonhuman ancestors Ben had never known he’d had - but maybe he shouldn’t have been too surprised to learn, considering how pack-minded the clones had been. “Best five years of my life.” The man rumbles sleepily, nuzzling against Ben’s collarbone. “I might just like your Force-shit after all. It gave me you.” Then, when Ben’s mouth opens to say something appropriately witty, still unsure what to do with the love and care aimed towards him to this day, Jango silences him with a sweet kiss that tastes like morning breath and makes both of them screw up their faces in exaggerated disgust.

“Urg.” Ben says dramatically, like some great insult had been given to him, flopping over onto his back and ignoring the faint roll of nausea that follows when the baby makes their displeasure known. Jango follows like a limpet, burying his face in Ben’s stomach and rubbing his cheek against the delightfully soft fabric of his sleep shirt as he stretches his arms across him like another blanket. “So  uncivilized.”

“You love me.” Jango grins at him, soft with sleep and his cheek resting against the bump of their growing child, dark eyes shimmering with so much love that Ben wants to cry sometimes.

He doesn’t know what he ever could have done to deserve this sweet happiness.

“Unfortunately.” Ben teases, reaching out to ruffle his hair again, and Jango melts into his touch, purrs kicking up once more. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you and accepted Myles’ proposal instead.”

“Betrayal.” Jango grumps, voice thickening once more as sleep creeps towards him once again, “My own brother, betraying me. I should have him hanged.”

He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in response, “You wouldn’t.” He says playfully, dodging the half-hearted swat that lands on his pillow instead, leaving Jango’s wrist to rest against his mouth, and Ben nips at it teasingly. “You love Myles too much.”

“Lies and slander.”

Ben laughs again, the weight of his past long forgotten in the face of his husband’s warmth, and he gently kisses the pulse point he can feel beating against his lips. “Go back to sleep, Jan’ika. We have a few hours yet until your court needs us.”

“Our  court.” Jango mumbles, surrendering to the gentle Force suggestion Ben had lined his words with. “You got half of it when you agreed to marry me.” His breath evens as he slips back to sleep, filling the room and the Force with foggy contentment and gentle love, and Ben smiles.

“Of course.” He teases his sleeping husband, unable to not get the last word even as he finds himself being pulled back to his dreams. “How dare I forget that.”

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42  

#cole writes #jangobi week 2021 #jangobi week day 2 #Obi-Wan Kenobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #time travel #trans obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker #leia organa #true mandalorians #breastfeeding #galidraan fix-it #star wars fanfiction #jangobi

[jasontoddiefor]

Remember that AU in which Anakin is a single father in witness protection after turning on his boss and falls in love with Obi-Wan? Here’s more. Read on AO3!

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Anakin thought he wasn’t seeing correctly when he stared into the face of Dooku Serenno. Anakin had met the man plenty of times in the past, in the part of his past he thought he could l finally leave behind and forget, more or less at least. He couldn’t believe it. Everything had been going great lately. He had gotten a part-time job to keep busy when the twins were gone and the FBI wasn’t breathing down his neck, the twins had adjusted wonderfully to Kindergarten and had made plenty of friends, and Anakin had a boyfriend.

An absolutely perfect man miles out of his league whom he didn’t deserve and still stayed with him. Obi-Wan was too good to be true sometimes. He was caring and thoughtful with his every gesture, adored the twins and never even minded it when they talked about Padmé. Anakin hadn’t even thought about dating again before meeting him, his status making it more than difficult, and even without that – Anakin loved Padmé. He couldn’t imagine not being in love with her and had always assumed that immediately would deter anybody who could see past the whole single-father of twins and yet Obi-Wan never even looked jealous. If anything, he encouraged the twins to speak of their mother.

Anakin had known that he fell hard and fast for people, but the thought of Obi-Wan someday not being there had already become unbearable.

And now he was staring at Dooku.

Dooku, who knew all the blood that stained Anakin’s hands, who had seen him at his worst and walked through the aftermaths of one of Vader’s infamous tantrums. The fragile peace Anakin had found was threatening to fall apart just because of his presence.

“I believe should be asking you that,” Dooku spoke up icily. “What are you doing here, Vader? What do you want from my grandson?”

“Grandson?” Anakin echoed. Right. Dinner with Obi-Wan’s family of which Dooku was a part. Anakin couldn’t see any resemblance between Obi-Wan and Dooku – but Obi-Wan had said that he was adopted. And yet, still-

Still – how could somebody as good as Obi-Wan come from the same family as Dooku. The bastard was to blame that Sidious had gotten away with as many of his crimes as he had. Sure, Sidious had also threatened him, but the man had been stupid enough to help Sheev Palpatine once. He should have known what it would lead to. The only reason Anakin hadn’t mentioned any of that to the agents holding his leash was simply that there were more important people to worry about than the lawyers Sidious had made use of. His enforcers were much more dangerous and more likely to kill you.

“I didn’t know about this,” Anakin continued.

Dooku rolled his eyes. “Obviously… But neither did I. I thought you were dead.”

“I am,” Anakin hissed. “Vader-” Anakin paused to look around as if anybody could overhear him. It was stupid, but he had just walked into the guy who was the reason he was short an arm. He figured he could allow himself some paranoia. “Vader died four years ago and I do not plan on resurrecting him.”

“So you will just content yourself with bringing your enemies down on my family?”

Anakin felt his rage begin to boil up. That was absolutely not the case. He had done everything he could to ensure his family was safe and that nobody near him would ever learn of the secrets he was hiding.

“I didn’t-“

“Daddy, daddy!”

The door was ripped open again and Luke was staring at Anakin with wide eyes, utterly excited. “Daddy, Obi-Wan’s daddy is even taller than you!”

“Oh?” Anakin crouched down in front of his son, keenly avoiding looking ta Dooku. He knew that if he did so now, he would lose all his calm. He needed to get away from this situation for a moment.

He never should have invited Obi-Wan over, never should have spoken to him-

“That’s impossible, sweetheart,” Anakin said seriously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Luke shouted and took Anakin’s hand to pull him inside. “Daddy, you have to come see.”

Glancing back at Dooku, Anakin allowed himself to be dragged away by his son. He made a gesture that hopefully conveyed that Dooku should shut his mouth and focused on Luke instead.

Luke led him into the living room. It was small but cozy and half the dishes were already put on the table. The food looked amazing, much more extravagant than anything Anakin was used to for homemade dinners and his and Obi-Wan’s dates had all been homemade dinners because Anakin was a paranoid bastard who didn’t want to leave the twins home alone with a babysitter.

Anakin kind of wanted to throw up.

This was so normal.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that-

No, he could. Over five years ago, in those last months of Padmé’s pregnancy when they had thought they had escaped Sidious and were just happy together. They had eaten breakfast in bed and cooked together and wondered how they would handle all this with a child as neither had been particularly used to running a household on their own. They had tried to figure out what house to buy and how to paint the nursery-

“So you’re Anakin Lars, yes?”

The man Luke had led him to was indeed taller than Anakin, though not by that much. He had long hair, pulled back into a ponytail, and a kind smile. He seemed like a nice man, utterly unbothered by Leia sitting on his shoulders and braiding his hair.

“Yes, Sir,” Anakin said.

That was how you still introduced yourself to your partner’s parent, wasn’t it? Anakin wasn’t slipping back into yes, master, no, master, I will try, master-

“It’s nice to meet you Anakin,” Qui-Gon said warmly. “And no need to call me Sir, please. I’ve been waiting to meet you. Your twins have already had a lot to say about you.”

“Ah yes. They talk a lot,” Anakin said lamely. Could this situation get even anymore out of control?

“Honestly, Father,” Qui-Gon then sighed and looked past Anakin to where Dooku must be standing. “What have you told this poor boy? He looks like we’re going to eat him alive.”

“I have done nothing-“

“We used to work together,” Anakin quickly intervened. “I gave Dooku’s company a hand when it came to their cybersecurity and somebody still managed to get to Dooku. Don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for that one. It was a huge loss, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dooku gritted out in-between shut teeth. “Tremendously.”

“Is that work I hear?”

A new man entered the living room from the kitchen it looked like. His black hair was a mess and he mustered the group in front of him with interested eyes. This must be Xanatos then, Obi-Wan’s other brother.

“I thought we said no work talk,” Xanatos continued and then held his hand out to Anakin. “Nice to meet the guy who made my brother act like a schoolgirl with a crush. I’m Xanatos.”

Anakin took his hand. “Anakin.” Vader, Vader, Vader. “Lars. Niece to meet you. Obi-Wan has told me a lot about you.”

“All good only, I hope?” Xanatos asked with a smirk that was borderline flirtatious.

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend!” Obi-Wan then shouted from the kitchen as well and moments later walked inside with a couple of bowls in hand. “Please just ignore him, Anakin. He’s an idiot. Qui-Gon dropped him too much on the head as a child.”

“Hahaha, very funny,” Xanatos replied and then finally sat down in his cha. “I was a teenager already when Qui-Gon got stuck with me. You, however, itty-bitty Oafy-Wan-“

“Boys,” Qui-Gon’s voice rang out. He sounded a little tired, this arguing must happen more often then. Anakin only hoped that Luke and Leia wouldn’t turn out like that. “I apologize Anakin. I fear you get to see all of Obi-Wan’s bad sides today. The of them are not as well behaved as your children.”

Qui-Gon looked up to Leia who was content sitting on his shoulders and smiled. “You are a little princess, aren’t you, Miss Leia?”

“Yeah!” Leia agreed. “And when I grow up, I’m going to be president.”

“I will be a knight,” Luke spoke up. “And I’ll save daddy from all the bad guys.”

Anakin smiled slightly. If he had something to say about it, his son very much would not ever even see one of the ghosts haunting Anakin.

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” Anakin shot Dooku a meaningful look. They could settle this later, but he wouldn’t ruin this evening for Obi-Wan.

“And what is that smell? I would give an arm and a leg for that dish.”

The twins, long used to his jokes, still giggled while Obi-Wan only rolled his eyes, Qui-Gon and Xanatos looked confused and Dooku-

Dooku was pale.

Was it- No. It couldn’t be but-

Well, Perhaps the tyrannical lawyer was feeling a little guilty about Anakin’s predicament.

Oh.

Oh, this could be fun.

#obikin #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #fanfic #in an endless universe AUs #im having way too much fun with this au

[enbycupcake]

~2k modern au where padmé and anakin had luke and leia, and obi-wan is parent #3. one night, anakin mistakenly kisses obi-wan instead of padmé.

everyone’s trans, luke and leia are around three, anakin has a prosthetic, luke isn’t wearing one

read on ao3 [ here ]

“Obi!” cries out Luke. 

He’s covered head to toe in finger paint, the green of his trees along his nose and Leia’s purple stars across his cheeks. Anakin can’t help but laugh at Obi-Wan when he grimaces at it getting all over his pants leg as Luke hugs him. His hand comes to rest on Luke’s soft curls, a little smile overtaking his face as Luke looks up. 

“I was only just in the bathroom, Luke.” 

A little fist tugs the fabric in its gasp. “Done!” 

“You’re done with your painting?”

Anakin watches as Luke drags Obi-Wan back to the table, furiously nodding the whole time. Leia glances at the two of them when Luke bumps into her elbow, but she immediately goes back to swiping her fingers on her page. She’d cheerfully told Anakin earlier she wanted to make the best picture ever for Bail, her godfather. Her focus has been near impossible to pull away since. 

Obi-Wan looks over Luke’s squiggly trees and near indistinguishable dog blob. “It’s lovely, Luke.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Do you want to hang it on the fridge?”

“No! I wanna show Mommy!” 

Laughing, Anakin pulls out his phone, ignoring Obi-Wan’s look. Padmé can take two second from work to look at her phone and send smiley faces. “Can you hold it up for me, little one?”

“Cheese!” 

The camera flashes. Smiling, Anakin puts a bunch of hearts under the picture before sending it to his wife. Luke’s own smile is breathtaking, his drawing held proudly in his hand. It only takes but a moment for Padmé to reply. 

Luke, honey, it’s gorgeous! 💛💛💛💛

“Luke, Mommy loves it. Look at all her hearts she sent you!”

The little giggle he lets out is too precious for Anakin to handle. Obi-Wan wisely takes Luke’s drawing just before Anakin scoops him into his arms. Rubbing his nose against his son’s, Anakin wonders how the hell his children are so cute. 

Bringing Luke to rest on his hip, he looks down at his daughter. “Leia, sweetheart, do you want to get some food? It looks like you’re almost done.”

There is way too much paint for the poor piece of paper to handle; Leia really plopped a lot of stars into her galaxy. Anakin waits for her to finish the star she’s dripping paint onto before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Food?”

Getting a nod, Anakin steps away so she can hop out of her chair – she doesn’t like being carried anymore than she has to unlike her brother. Following her into the kitchen, Anakin bumps hips with Obi-Wan. He, in turn, hits his shoulder against Anakin’s. 

“Sandwiches?” Obi-Wan asks. 

Leia shakes her head. “No, I want apples.”

“Grapes!” exclaims Luke. 

Putting Luke down, Anakin shakes his head. “Just like your mother, you two.” 

“I’d rather they ask for fruit than candies, like a certain someone I know.”

“You eat more candies than Padmé, the twins, and I combined, Obi-Wan.”

“You do,” agrees Leia as she opens the fridge. 

Choking on his unexpected laughter, Anakin watches as she lifts herself onto her toes to reach the apples Padmé had sliced before work that morning. Once Leia’s out of the way, Obi-Wan picks up the grape bag for Luke and goes to the sink to rinse them. 

The children settle at their table, Leia putting the plate of apples in the middle. She grabs one and starts eating. Luke eagerly watches for his grapes, swinging his feet while he waits. He thanks Obi-Wan when a good portion of the grapes are placed before him and joins his sister in devouring the fruit. 

Climbing onto an adult stool, Anakin smiles at Obi-Wan. “I love when you have days off.”

“I do, too.” Resting his hip on the counter, Obi-Wan glances at the kids. “I hate not seeing them as often as you do.”

“Quit your job and become a stay-at-home dad like me, then. I’ll have time to take naps.”

That gets a laugh. “I do actually enjoy my job, so I don’t think I’ll join you. You’ll just have to stay napless.”

“Darn.”

The two of them watch as Leia tries to shove a whole apple slice into her mouth. Luke drops the grapes in his hand to grab a slice and copy her. Anakin is ready to get up and intervene, but Leia, unsuccessful, manages to spit the fruit out. Her brother shares the same fate and pouts for a second before going back to his grapes. 

Settling back onto his seat, Anakin lets out a sigh. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“I haven’t thought of it.”

“Pasta? Order pizza? Padmé’s probably going to be starving when she gets home.”

“Pasta, then.”

Laughing, Anakin flicks Obi-Wan’s arm. “Pasta it is. Get out the vegetables you want.”

Anakin stands, pushing in his stool. He gets his spices out of the rack and his knife before pulling the noodles out from the cabinet. Obi-Wan deposits onions and garlic onto the counter, heading off to clean peppers, mushrooms, and zucchini at the sink. They part once all the vegetables are accounted for and the water for the noodles is put on heat, Anakin chopping while Obi-Wan herds Luke and Leia out into the living room. 

Dinner is easy enough to make, pasta a dish Anakin could cook with his eyes shut. He texts Padmé to pick up garlic bread on her way home; they don’t have any frozen garlic knots, and it’s too late to make bread himself even if he wanted to expend the effort. 

Looking about the kitchen after turning the pasta on low, Anakin smiles. It’s not as big a disaster as it could be. He picks up Luke and Leia’s leftover fruit and returns it to the fridge. Then, he collects the scattered glasses he and Obi-Wan drank out of today as well as his knife to clean them. He’s just drying everything off when he hears Leia’s cry of “Mommy!”

Dropping the last of the kitchenware onto the drying rack, Anakin walks out into the living room. Padmé’s swinging Luke and Leia around in greeting, her bag and bread on the floor, a kiss getting pressed to each twin’s cheek once she stops. Smiling, Anakin goes up to trap their kids between them as he kisses her. 

“Stop!” Leia whines.

Anakin turns his kisses onto her, giggles erupting when he turns them into raspberries. 

“Me! Me, too!”

Over his head, Anakin can see his wife turn an exasperated look onto Obi-Wan while he transfers his raspberries onto Luke. Luke hits his arm onto him, enjoying the attention. 

“How about I take you from Mommy, huh, Luke?”

Padmé transfers him from her arm into Anakin’s, and then she hands him Leia, pressing a kiss to each kid’s forehead. She leans down to pick her bag and bread back up. Leia tries to grab the bag, but she can’t reach. Anakin bounces her to try to bring her attention back to him as Padmé heads to the kitchen to put the bread into the oven. 

“Do you two want to help me plate dinner?”

“Yes!” says Luke while a petulant “no,” escapes Leia. 

Obi-Wan swoops in to take Leia from him and put her on the floor. “Do you want to help Mommy get into comfortable clothes, maybe?”

“Uh-huh. I wanna help Mommy.”

Shaking his head, Anakin checks his hip into Obi-Wan’s. He gets an eye roll in return. The three of them walk into the kitchen, Padmé drinking a tall glass of water by the counter. Leia saunters up to her, waiting for her to finish. 

“I wanna help!”

Putting down her glass, Padmé leans down to look at Leia face to face. “You want to help with what, sweetheart?”

“Comfy clothes!”

Padmé looks at Anakin and Obi-Wan, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want to help me get into comfy clothes, Leia?”

Smiling, Leia nods. “And then I show you my painting for Bail!”

“Naturally. I can’t wait to see it.”

Padmé stands back up, offering her hand to Leia. Leia takes it, and Padmé starts guiding her to the master bedroom. “Serve me a big bowl, please, Ani!”

“You got it!”

Anakin sets Luke onto the counter while Obi-Wan takes out bowls and silverware. Obi-Wan turns the burner off, and he brings the saucepan over. Anakin tells Luke to curl his hand around part of the ladle, his own hand on it to actually lift the pasta into the bowls. Luke happily “serves” the pasta, shaking his head when Anakin pretends to accidentally overshoot Luke’s bowl. 

“Pasta goes in the bowl, Daddy!”

“Right you are, Luke. How silly of me.”

“Good thing you’re here to make sure we all get food, Luke,” says Obi-Wan, a hand coming up to rest on Luke’s back. 

Luke nods. “Yes.”

Snorting, Obi-Wan watches as the two of them fill everyone else’s bowls. The timer for the bread goes off, and he takes it out. Anakin drops the ladle. Luke gets placed back onto the ground, running off to presumably follow his sister and mother. Laughing, Anakin grabs Padmé’s and Luke’s bowls. Obi-Wan takes his, Leia’s, and Anakin’s. 

The two of them settle on the couch, bowls placed on the coffee table. Anakin curls into his friend’s side, rolling his ankles. Obi-Wan huffs at him, but he lets Anakin stay as they wait for the rest of their little family to come down to eat. 

The sound of two excited little ones cause Anakin to wake up from his light dose. Rubbing his chin on Obi-Wan’s shoulder before getting up, Anakin pats at his stomach. Obi-Wan halfheartedly grumbles at him as he stretches. Padmé’s in a breezy nightgown, the soft silver covering her all the way to her ankles. Anakin just takes her effortless beauty in for a second before his attention is drawn down to Leia and Luke. The two of them barrel towards the coffee table, plopping down to eat. The first few bites are messy. 

Padmé brings the bread in from the kitchen before sitting down next to Anakin. He settles into her side, pressing a kiss to her jaw. Kissing his forehead, she brings up her pasta and her feet. Obi-Wan on his other side starts eating as well. Anakin soaks up the domesticity of it all, his two most important people and their children all together. It’s been a while since they’ve all had dinner together, either Padmé or Obi-Wan having had to stay late at work lately. 

After everyone’s pasta is gone and the bread is eaten, Anakin starts the charge up for bedtime. Luke grumbles, but Leia takes it in stride. Obi-Wan watches them as they brush their teeth, Padmé setting out their nightclothes and Anakin picking out their bedtime story. Leia jumps into bed after slipping into her princess nightgown, her numerous sheets bouncing. Luke climbs in his, his spaceship nightgown on. 

The two of them listen rapt as Cinderella dances with her prince, yawns increasing as the Prince tries to find her. Once the story’s over, Leia and Luke get goodnight kisses from all three adults. Anakin smiles dopily at them as he flicks off the light. Padmé’s hand comes onto his arm, and she guides him downstairs with Obi-Wan to clean the dinner dishes. 

Obi-Wan rinses as Padmé dries. Anakin wipes down the coffee table in the living room, coming into the kitchen once he’s done. He transfers the leftover pasta into tupperware and places it into the refrigerator, turning to kiss Padmé as she comes up behind him. 

It’s not Padmé’s lips he mets, a full beard tickling his face instead of skin. Opening his eyes, he’s met with Obi-Wan’s terrified ones. Nerves start fluttering in his stomach at how scared his friend looks. 

“Obi-Wan...”

Obi-Wan starts backing up, only to meet Padmé behind him. She rests her hands on his waist, a request to stay. Anakin looks at her, the way she’s not even phased, and he just thinks oh. 

Closing the refrigerator, Anakin grabs Obi-Wan’s face in his hands. His friend is trembling, and Anakin rests his forehead against his. He rubs his thumb in what he hopes is comforting circles as he smiles, butterflies in his stomach. 

“Can I kiss you again?”

Obi-Wan blinks at him. “I...don’t know what to say.”

“Yes or no, I believe would work,” Padmé says behind him. 

“Anakin’s your husband.”

“Hmmm. And you’re the second father to my children. I think I can survive sharing him with you.”

“So can I kiss you?” Anakin interjects, ignoring Padmé’s displeased face. He wants to know. 

“What’ll we tell Luke and Leia?”

Anakin shrugs as Padmé answers. “That Mommy and Daddy love Obi like they love each other. They’ll probably just nod and go back to whatever they were doing, Obi-Wan. Kids are easy like that.”

“I...don’t want to ruin things.”

“You won’t!” Anakin insists. “Nothing’ll really change, if you think about it. It’ll be like before, plus kissing and maybe sex.”

“Anakin.” Padmé admonishes. 

“I said maybe!”

Laughing, Obi-Wan presses closer to Anakin. “I think my answer is yes, then.”

Smiling, Anakin pulls his face forward, pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s. The beard is different, Padmé his only partner before this – she's gotten rid of any trace of her facial hair. Anakin giggles, the beard feels so weird as the kiss gets more intense. Obi-Wan pulls away, an eyebrow raised at him. 

“Your beard! It's...a little scratchy and weird. I’m sorry.”

Padmé laughs behind them. “Maybe we should invest in some beard oil.”

“Ha ha, guys.”

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I won’t laugh this time.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Anakin,” he says as he starts kissing him again. Anakin happily complies. 

[ next ]

#this is super fast lmao but i want happy domesticity #obianidala #trans padme #trans obi wan #trans anakin #star wars #pt #my fic #sw fic #trans headcanon #sappy modern parents au

[tennessoui]

The divorced fic was so cute i want to scream. Does Obi have any time to be sad or are Anakin and his little demons always there to distract him from his infinite sadness

so i know most everyone wants to know what anakin does about The Kiss but here's a bit of light hearted angst a year before that (because humanity is inherently whatever but i am inherently evil)

aka

the immediate aftermath of the Router Incident (1.4k)

The night of the day of what will come to be known as The Router Incident starts off with a bang.

Obi-Wan gets home a bit later than normal. Not because his work drags on longer than usual, but because he is, on the subject of all things even passably related to his personal life, a coward.

It’s been at least ten hours since he left the house with the goddamn wifi router tucked under his arm because Anakin had said something about finding a new place.

As if this isn’t the twenty-first century. As if Anakin doesn’t have a phone with unlimited data. As if Anakin isn’t the sort of person to walk five miles to the nearest coffeeshop with his kids in their stroller, just to use their wifi to email Obi-Wan a series of italicized question marks.

Obi-Wan’s been practicing his apology ever since he got that email. I’m really sorry, I promise I’m not a controlling megalomaniac. I just panicked because I’m not that good at letting go of things. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently I only know how to dig my heels in whenever I think people are starting to pull away. Apologies again, life is not a game of tug-of-war, and I promise I do know that.

He practices his apology, of course, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also try to put it off until the last possible moment. When he leaves the building, his car is the only one still in the lot.

I’m really sorry. Here’s the router back. I support your decision. Your kids will be great. I know you probably won’t let them see me, because that’s a bit weird if we don’t all live together, and you also don’t use social media, which is great because I also don’t use social media, but I would have made a Facebook account just to keep up with your family. It’s meant more than I can say to have something to come home to this past year, and I understand that you can’t put your life on hold for a lonely old man like me, and I will endeavor from now on to not impede your search for a new place to live.

No, too needy, he thinks at a red light, dragging his hand over his beard in defeat. He won’t beg Anakin to stay.

He would very much like to beg Anakin to stay, but he hadn’t even begged Satine to stay, and he had been in love with her.

He just enjoys Anakin’s company. His presence. Unwinding next to Anakin after a difficult day teaching is one of the things he looks forward to the most.

And this past holiday season, they’d had a big dinner at his house, filled to the brim with Anakin’s friends and his friends and some people from the local grocery store they’d met when out shopping together, and it had been so loud and so amazing. Nothing had been left untouched, there had been food on the ceiling (Obi-Wan suspects Leia to this day, but Luke had confessed), there had been leftovers for days.

You can’t just give me holidays like that and then take them away, Obi-Wan thinks angrily as he turns into his neighborhood. What will I do next winter, then?

He has to sit in his car for a second after parking, just to calm down. He’s the one in the wrong, he reminds himself. Anakin has all the right in the world to want to leave. It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sound of children screaming and crying.

Luke rushes at him and jumps on him with enough force that he reels backwards, almost out of the house. He drops his bag on the floor in order to steady the child.

Luke is bawling his head off right next to Obi-Wan’s ear so it’s very, very difficult to hear what a red-faced Anakin is trying to say.

And then Leia runs up to him, tugs at his free hand until he looks down at her, and then stomps her little foot with a scowl. “I hate you!” she declares just as loudly as Luke is crying, before her tiny face breaks into tears and she runs off.

“Oh, for the love of--” Anakin shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and chasing after his daughter.

Obi-Wan, ridiculously hurt beyond measure and without a clue about what’s happening, goes to sit down on the couch, still gently cradling Luke’s body to his as the boy continues to weep.

“Hush,” he says soothingly. “And, ah. Please tell me what’s gotten into the Skywalkers now.”

Luke only sniffles and rubs his snotty nose all over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Well. It’s laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“Daddy says you hate us,” Luke mumbles, just as Anakin comes back into the living room, notably sans Leia.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open in shock. “Daddy says what?” he asks, very slowly, making dangerous eye contact with Anakin over the top of Luke’s blond head.

Anakin flushes an even darker shade of red and looks around the room, as if that’ll save him.

“Daddy says we gotta go because this is your house and we don’t wanna stay over our, um. Welcome. We can’t reproach on your space, which means you hate us.”

“Encroach,” Anakin corrects, which Obi-Wan does not think is the thing that really needs to be corrected. When he tries to communicate this with his eyes, Anakin gulps and says quite quickly, “I’m gonna go check on Leia actually.”

Coward.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Your daddy is just being very, very dumb, a trait I pray with all my heart skips a generation.”

Luke blinks at him, his little eyebrows furrowed and his button nose bright red from all of his crying.

“I don’t hate you at all,” Obi-Wan says. “I love both you and your sister very much.”

“Then why do we gotta leave?” Luke complains. “I don’t want to go, we could never play Space Pirates and Lava Dragons at the old place, it was way too small.”

Obi-Wan thinks privately that his house, while certainly big enough, is by no means the proper size for how rambunctious the twins get when they’re playing Space Pirates and Lava Dragons.

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums consideringly. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?” Luke asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I really don’t. But it’s not my decision to make, Luke.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Luke concludes, head hanging low. “And Daddy wants to go.”

Obi-Wan ignores the way that sentence drives what feels like a knife straight through his heart. “Yes, well,” he coughs. “Your daddy won’t do anything he knows you and your sister really don’t want.”

Luke looks contemplative. Obi-Wan wonders if he should feel really bad or downright awful for manipulating a child in this way. But needs must.

“And he won’t listen to me,” he continues gently, smoothing down the front ends of the boy’s soft hair. “Because your daddy can be very stubborn when he thinks he’s doing something right.”

“He’ll listen to me and Leia though?” Luke asks, head cocked and eyes bright.

Obi-Wan nods very seriously. “I think he would if you both asked very nicely and thought about a lot of good reasons why you should stay here.”

“I can think of loads! And Leia can think of a ton more probably!” Luke exclaims with renewed energy, launching himself off of Obi-Wan’s lap and up the stairs, ostensibly to their shared bedroom.

Obi-Wan leans back against the couch, equal parts amused, exhausted, and hurt. He’ll need to have a serious talk with Anakin soon. He’d thought the man knew that his home was his as well. Yes, Anakin still paid rent, an unfortunate but necessary sort of system, but they’ve never been normal roommates. And Anakin isn’t a guest who could overstay his welcome.

He’s. Well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly what Anakin is to him, but he had hoped it was obvious to Anakin at least that Obi-Wan would not ever grow tired of his presence in his life.

So they do have some things to talk about.

But hopefully this means that Obi-Wan won’t actually have to apologize for the router incident, seeing as Anakin’s fuck-up caused much larger waves.

#you want me to think my five year olds know how to create an APA styled bibliography #Obi-Wan??? #asks #the kids put together a powerpoint of Reasons They Have To Stay #some of it is obviously written by the kids #other bullet points are things like about school zones and bus routes and neighborhood safety #even if obi-wan refuses to admit he helped them with it #anakin side eyes him the entire time #ESPECIALLY when theres a bibliography as the last slide #and obi-wan is just fake proud #wiping away a tear #'i guess all those games of professor and student really paid off' #KUWSK