Hey.
Hey, listen.
I just want to say thank you so much for deciding to follow me. I don’t know why, but for some reason 600 of you have decided you want to put up with my chaotic energy and I just- THANK YOU~! I am drinking my coffee, trying to wake up, but I wanted to give you all a long preview of my Mando!Obi tattoo artist au. I know I talked about this like over a month ago, but I haven’t given up on it. I’ve just been...all over the place! Ahem, anyway~! Under the cut! (also, apologies if the formatting gets weird- tumblr has issues.)
☀️
He had been willing to swallow his pride. He had been willing to seek assistance from the people who he had turned his back on because he needed the Young to thrive, but things never seemed to go according to plan. Obi-Wan had crafted a plan to break into the communication center so he could send an encrypted message to the Jedi.
This war-
It just wasn’t going to stop. He pressed a hand to his aching stomach while eyeing the climb he needed to make. Would the Force slip past fingers again if he asked for aid?
He just wanted the war to end and for the horrors to stop.
Something felt off on the other side of those walls, but he had to do this. The Young were counting on him. He balled his hand into a fist, twisting dirty fabric up between his fingers, and purposefully ignored the gnawing hunger. He could eat something after this was over. The younger ones in the group needed the food more than him.
The climb to the small window made his hands throb and his fingers bleed. Getting the window open was even more tiresome, but he managed somehow. His whole body seemed to jolt when he landed inside the room. One knee hitting the ground in his attempt at landing in a crouch. The pain almost stopped him from realizing the lights were already on. He glanced up from his crouched position and blanched.
Several blasters were aimed at him.
“That’s the one,” someone said with a sick sort of delight. “The bounty-” What?
He had planned this all out so why had it come to this?
They couldn’t even take care of their own, but they would waste credits on hiring Mandalorians? “That’s a child.” “He’s been polluting the minds of our children. He is a monster that kills without a second thought.” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in surprise. Had this been a trap? He had gotten the information that the center would be empty from- no that didn’t matter. He needed to figure out how to escape without causing more death. He just wanted the war to end! Why was that so wrong?
“Will you finally cease fire,” he asked. Everyone in the room glanced at him, at least he thought they did. The helmets the new arrivals were wearing certainly seemed to move fraction towards him. “If I die? Will you finally stop this endless war?”
Silence rang. He straightened up to his full height and pressed a hand to his chest. The aches he always felt seemed to vanish for a moment as he stared death down. There was no death, there was only the Force- at least for a Jedi. Oh, he wasn’t one anymore. Would he just die then? “They just want to live in a world where their parents don’t slaughter each other for no reason. You don’t even remember why this war really started, do you? You just keep rekindled your hatred-” “See? This is the nonsense he spews-” “Let the boy talk,” one of the strangers ordered.
“I can’t pay whatever they said they can, but I have a request-”
☀️
“This is yours,” Dain said before reaching out to ruffle his freshly washed hair. Obi-Wan flinched before he could stop himself. The hand stilled, but then his new father just sighed. “Decorate the room how you wish.”
He had hurt Dain’s feelings somehow.
Footsteps echoed in his ears before the door hissed shut. He raised a hand to his chest and winced at the sharp pain from his heart. He hadn’t meant to be adopted, he had just wanted to save his friends and the time he made the best deal he could. Melida/Daan was now a strong outpost for Mandalore. The agreement had left a faint bitter look on the face of many, but it was for the best. The planet would heal.
He just...he could never return.
”Where will you go,” the lead Mandalorian asked while reaching up to remove his helmet. Obi-Wan didn’t even glance up. No, he just kept his gaze straight ahead while he wrapped his arms just a little tighter around his legs.
“Somewhere.”
He had planned on shoving a ration in his mouth and then taking a quick sonic before he worried about the fact he was now being forced to drift through the galaxy. Now he was being forced to talk more about his situation. Thirteen and no place to call home.
Maybe the Order would take him back? He’d be willing to be a simple Archivist at this point. It was a twisted joke, really, the fact the idea of becoming a farm hand suddenly bubbled up in his mind. Hadn’t a fear of being some measly farmer plagued him for far too long? Now he was willing to do just that.
“You could come with us.” That did cause him to glance up. The man just smiled softly at him, warmth in those dark eyes. “You helped the negotiations, despite more than half of this planet wanting you dead. You were willing to die to save others. You have a place by my side.” Obi-Wan blinked and couldn’t help the confused look that appeared on his face.
What was the bounty hunter on about?
“...I am trying to adopt you, Obi.”
He collapsed backward onto the bed. When was the last time he had slept on something so soft? His arms stretched up towards the ceiling and he eyed the palms of his hands. He had accepted the adoption, but now he didn’t know what to do.
Well, he could just go on a few missions with his new family he supposed. What could go wrong? Dain said he wanted to disrupt a slave ring once Obi-Wan was more settled. He’d just tell the man he was settled already, even if he wasn’t.
☀️
His buir had been a dramatic idiot when he announced he was moving to Coruscant. There had been questions of if he was trying to get close to those jettise after all these years. He wasn't. There had been questions about the locale. He had a feeling. There had even been questions about whether or not he'd still come home to visit. He would. Obi-Wan was hardly some fragile thing that needed to be protected all the time, something Dain knew. That man had shoved a blade straight through a slaver in front of him and had smiled so reassuringly. Obi-Wan hadn't even thought twice about rushing into the open embrace of the Mandalorian who had executed someone so cleanly in front of him. At the time he had thought Dain was like the heroes of the Old Republic, but he learned that his old man had some ridiculous ideas. The first time he had gotten a sniffle it had been like the whole Clan was under attack.
Life as a Mandalorian had been eye-opening. In his youth, he had believed that they were violent people that worshiped war, but Dain had slapped a paintbrush in his hand the first time he was caught staring at the murals in their home.
Stories, stories could be told through art.
Obi-Wan grew up surrounded by warriors, even learned some new ways to defend himself along the way, but he immersed himself in giving words an image crafted from ink.
He learned the older styles of telling those stories. Tattoos created by a droid weren't bad, but they never seemed to carry the weight of emotions and intentions behind them. They were fast, perfect, and a credit a dozen. Maybe he had been slightly opportunist when the war broke out, but he saw a galaxy unfold in front of him that was dripping in stories waiting to be memorialized.
Coruscant was the center of that war.
Obi-Wan wanted to be able to send credits back to his family, but he always wanted to tell stories.
Starting up a business had been a tad more tiresome than he had thought it would be. The Senate had implemented extra laws and regulations that made him jump through far more hoops than he wanted.
He finally managed to claw his way through all the bureaucratic tape and opened his means of continuing to tell stories.
There was something comforting about being inside his own tattoo parlor. The walls were rich, warm hues and splayed with various pieces of art. His buir tended to bring back unique pieces from all over the galaxy. Obi had to admit he was partial to the more street art style ones, but the pieces from Naboo held a special place in his heart. He cast a glance towards the painting of the inside of some library on Naboo and wondered faintly what that place smelled like. Was it aged flimsi and rich inks or was it merely the metallic scent of datapads? “Obi,” Heddurk called while running into the shop. He glanced away from the painting and raised an eyebrow in question. “Buir wants to know why you barely have any food in your apartment!” His brows drew together as he stared at his younger brother. Ah, so their parent had gone straight to his place and immediately began meddling. His lips twitched before he flashed a bemused smile. Yes, that sounded about right. “I didn’t know you were visiting,” he said softly in response. Heddurk came to a stop in front of the counter and slammed his gloved hands down on the top of it while giving him a blank look.
“If you read your messages then you would have seen my warning.” Obi-wan snorted. His very literal brother did have a point, he hadn’t exactly checked any of his incoming messages. In his defense, if it could be called that, he had been working on designing a memorial tattoo for yet another clone.
“Ah, I see.”
☀️
Obi-Wan rested his chin in his gloved hand while he watched the face in front of him go through various stages of anger and disgust. He managed to keep his expression blank despite wanting to laugh.
"Boba," the tall bounty hunter snapped. Her voice was like vibroblades. "We don't have all day. Your father is waiting for us."
Boba, the barely teenager having an emotional breakdown, finally swore. "Do you think this is a joke?"
Obi-Wan grinned slowly and used his free hand to point to the sign that said a guardian had to be present. "Unless I get proof the best I can do is that."
"A karking temp of a grinning tooka? Do you know who my father is? He will-"
"I don't care. I have a code I adhere to and I don't bend the rules for anyone. Now, we done?" He ignored the way the bounty hunter was suddenly looking at him like she wanted to eat him.
"I'll be back and you'll be sorry," Boba snapped while slapping the temporary tattoo sheet down on the desk. That, of course, was when the front door opened. Obi-Wan shifted his attention and winced. Ah, yes, now would be the time a clone showed up.
A sort of tense silence fell over the place.
Well kark.