full respect to the obianidala shippers but my personal flavour is obi-wan kenobi: weird ever-present uncle.
he's anidala's permanent third wheel. literally attached at the hip with anakin, full force dyad going on, their bond is so intense and lifelong and unbreakable and yet incredibly platonic. the twins have a whole additional parent who a) did not sign up for this and b) is not now nor has ever been romantically involved with their actual parents, and yet is decidedly part of the throuple somehow
jedi master obi-wan kenobi did not volunteer to be a platonic addition to the amidala-skywalker family, yet somehow "family outings" always include him? he's taking shifts in the night when the twins are young - temporarily, obviously, as an act of compassion and friendship - but then he somehow ends up with a permanent room in the amidala-skywalker household and everyone just... rolls with that? he has a whole separate life going on at the jedi temple, so why is he on the chore chart? and doing the chores? and getting mad when the space dishwasher is suboptimally packed? and he's ended up on the rotation of people the twins cry for??? they've got 'mama', 'dada', and 'o-bba'???? and that's him??!??!?
obi-wan is adopted into the family in much the way of a feral cat: he has no intention of joining them and is actively hostile to the idea, only to look around a year later and realise he's become a key and foundational member. despite, and this is critical, having no romantic involvement whatsoever in the married-with-kids scenario
sometimes a family can be a mother, a father, two children, and the dad's lifelong devoted platonic mind-bonded partner who grumbles the whole time but keeps taking time off from his important Jedi Council duties to shepherd the kids to their space sport games and spallet (space ballet) classes
there will be a show with two guys in a fucked up power dynamic that is the core of their relationship and all the posts will be like "i love them but i hate the power dynamic" and all the fic is like "what if there was no power dynamic" or "what if the power dynamic was switched". like okay actually i think the imbalance is fun and awesome. anyone else
Holding Wyll's face gently with both hands as I say, "His first duty was as your father. He should have chosen you."
One of my favourite things about Scarlet Hollow is how frequently you have the option to start crying. It's so real. I would be crying too if I were facing The Horrors.
"what are we" moment but it's just about siezen/duzen in a work environment
nothing better than the wrong capitalization of Sie
okay so I am doing the felassan joins the inquisition AU. I forgot who started this so uh. I gotta find that post again to give full credit but here's the first few paragraphs of my wip
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There is a new recruit in the Inquisition. It’s a tall elf with a vallaslin dedicated to Mythal etched into his serious features. His hair is soft, tied back behind his neck, and while his clothes suggest that he might’ve lived a life similar to the one Solas claims to have lived, he holds himself differently, with a certain maturity only a long life can teach you. He doesn’t lower his voice when he speaks, and while he respects authority–he does speak like someone all too familiar with hierarchy–his entire demeanor feels genuine, somehow.
He introduces himself as Felassan, which is a name that rolls off your tongue nicely when you address him with it. It stresses the phonetic markers of a language you barely speak, one that is lost to time and oppression, and it shakes a part of it awake again, gently pushing old, forgotten scraps of it into your hands, urging you to remember. On the rare occasions he speaks Elvish, he wields the language with more skill than any other elf you know, other than Solas, of course.
That is not to say that he doesn't understand the common tongue, or modern Thedosian culture. He is far more assimilated than Solas is. He dresses in nice robes that have a distinct Fereldan style to them, and if it weren’t for his vallaslin and ears, he would probably blend in perfectly with the other recruits.
He is nothing if not polite. He knows military tactics, and while Cullen is hesitant to listen to a complete stranger at first, you end up finding them in the Skyhold Courtyard from time to time, pouring over a map, moving figurines around and gesturing wildly. Felassan’s voice isn’t overly loud but it carries far without much effort.
Perhaps naturally, based on the perceived similarities Felassan expects them to have, he gravitates most towards Solas. Solas isn’t… well, it’s hard to say whether he is uncomfortable with this because Solas, as you’ve gotten to know him over the last few months, would rather die than discuss his feelings. You still remember the kiss, the sincerity of it, the way he held you; the way he immediately stepped away and fled, apologized, insisted that it wouldn’t work when you offered to try. Despite his unwillingness to show discomfort, it’s obvious that he’s not exactly a fan of Felassan following him around.
It never gets heated. All things considered, their opinions do align well enough. Solas never snaps at the man the way he does at Dorian. There is no awkward tip-toeing around the topic of identity and purpose either, the way he does it with Varric. He doesn’t try to convince Felassan of the value of ancient Elvhen knowledge like he does with Sera. You expected Solas to judge the man for being Dalish but it never even comes up. (Which is odd, considering that this was one of the first topics he breached with you.)
About a week after Felassan joined, you are starting to notice the tension between them. Solas sighs when Felassan brings up a Dalish legend about the Dread Wolf. Felassan turns to you, “Inquisitor, have I told you my favorite legend yet? Of the time the Dread Wolf lost his tail to a mabari?”
“Please don’t bother the Inquisitor with Dalish superstitions,” Solas says.
You reach out with your anchored hand to pat his arm. “It’s fine, Solas. No, I haven't heard of it yet. Why?”
Solas winces away from your touch.
“Felassan…”
“Yes, Solas?” Felassan interrupts smoothly, and there is something in the way he looks at Solas that makes you wince. There is too much emotion in that gaze, emotion you can’t grasp, no matter how hard you try.
Solas meets his eyes, and for a few seconds there's nothing but intense silence between them, all until the apostate turns away, his posture defeated.
“Nothing. Continue.”
part of what makes tragedies tragic is the story being preventable from the outside but unpreventable from the inside
literally dropped everything to make this