#there will be hints of codywan

[broitsf-ckingfreezing]

So my We Need to Talk About The Jedi Eldritch Jedi fic is being written, but there are so many things I want to do! I need help deciding!

I want to start with ya boi Qui, since I love him as a character and as a Jedi (Qui-Gon Bashers can fuck right off my blog, thanks), and this will determine his role as a central presence!

[pinkiemme]

Print for July on Patreon 🥰🌊🐚

Sunshine boy ✨

[cc-kote]

Rauuagadjsjdsk help I'm getting ready to post this week's chapter of my kylux fic (The Unforgivable) and idk if I should also post another chapter of my Codywan fic (The Last Lost Continent) or if I should wait on that one for now and post the next chunk all together. I have like 2.5 more chapters of my kylux fic all edited and ready to go for the next few weeks and the first half of act 3 done up in a rough draft, but while I have the next like 5 chapters of my codywan fic mapped out like that I only have up to chapter 7 actually written in my clean draft.

[kanansdume]

My preferred flavor of Codywan is both of them being so aroace that absolutely no one outside of the relationship has any idea whether they're in a relationship or not at any given point in time. Cody and Obi-Wan always know, there's never any confusion between the two of them about where they stand with each other. It's just other people who aren't sure. And there are varying levels of reactions to that uncertainty.

All the way down at the bottom is Anakin who has exactly zero clue about whether Cody and Obi-Wan are in a relationship or not, and cannot handle not knowing, but he also doesn't really feel comfortable just coming out and asking Obi-Wan about it, so he's constantly setting up weird little traps to see if he can catch them in a compromising position and they never work. It drives him completely bonkers.

At the exact opposite end of the spectrum are most of the Jedi who might have more of a clue as to whether they're in a relationship or not depending on how familiar they are with Obi-Wan, but they also are so used to relationships among the Jedi being defined very loosely and so they really have no issue with not knowing for sure. If Cody and Obi-Wan want someone to know, they will say something. It's really none of their business most of the time and as long as both people involved seem happy and healthy, that's all that matters.

Somewhere in the middle would be people like Padme and Bail, who would probably also decide it's not technically their business, but they're also absolutely curious about it. Bail I think would be polite enough to not really let on about his curiosity outside of maybe some conversations with Breha. But Padme, spurred on by Anakin's absolute insanity over it, might try to drop some hints in conversations with Obi-Wan or pursue information through other sources to get more information. She thinks she's being really subtle about how nosy she is, but she's not.

Cody and Obi-Wan generally do not care about how others perceive their relationship, it works for them and makes them happy. They're not TRYING to keep secrets or anything, they're just living their lives the way they want to and it happens to not fit within specific boxes or labels. If directly asked, they're happy to admit that they are in fact in a relationship with each other.

The one exception to this is Anakin because they just really enjoy fucking with Anakin and all of his dumb traps and making sure he keeps getting contradictory information because it's hilarious to keep him guessing. Obi-Wan thinks one day he'll just let Anakin in on the secret to put him out of his misery. Cody has absolutely no intention of ever letting that happen.

[dontbelasagnax]

OMG CAN I DO A PROMPT FOR THE KISS ROULETTE???

No pressure BUT I number 35. Kiss against a wall would make me go FERAL.

Bonus points if it's in some hidden corner and they're trying to sneak away after a hard won battle because the codywan brain rot has GOT ME. I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING BUT THEM

Please pretend like you sent this ask recently and I haven't been sitting on it for months waiting for my eggs to hatch @why-cant-turtles-fly 😂 As requested, here is codywan kissing against a wall... though it's actually a pillar (oops). I was inspired by this artwork I did!

Pairing: CC-22224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,330

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Tenderness, Making Out, Introspection, and by that I mean Obi-Wan is mentally ill and thinks too much, Implied Sexual Content, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

    "Missing something?" Cody wiggles a certain lightsaber in his hand as he closes the distance of only a couple meters.

    "More than one thing, it seems," Obi-Wan replies.

    [ OR: Obi-Wan and Cody steal away some precious time after a victorious battle which of course results in a makeout session against a pillar. ]

(fic under the cut if you wish to read here on tumblr)

This morning Obi-Wan finds himself in the ruins of a long ago abandoned castle, high in the mountainous region of Bestoon's northernmost continent. However difficult the altitude makes it to breathe unassisted, it's worth it for the view. There isn't much he loves looking at more than a sunrise in the clouds.

The sunrise after a well earned victory in battle has become one of Obi-Wan's favorite moments to find peace these last few months or... has it been years? Time has melted together through this dreary drudge of a war.

He's watched this sky transition from dusky purples splashed with rays of golden sunlight to a pale blue canvas with clouds shadowed with purples leaning grey and highlights of soft pinks and yellows.

"Sir," a very familiar voice calls from behind. 

Obi-Wan turns towards the voice. 

'Ah,' Obi-Wan thinks, a smile already beginning to emerge on his features, 'my dearest commander.'

The light of the sky washes Cody in diffused golds and pinks. He is delightfully dressed down, forgoing his armour from the waist up. The tight, ribbed fabric does his physique all the favors the way it clings. A stray curl drops onto his forehead. The lighting does wonders for his complexion. It's as if he's glowing.

Yes, Cody bathed in the light of a new day is the most breathtaking, glorious view of them all.

"Missing something?" Cody wiggles a certain lightsaber in his hand as he closes the distance of only a couple meters. 

"More than one thing, it seems," Obi-Wan replies as he takes the lightsaber held out to him. The metal is heated from the rare touch of Cody's bare hand. Energy thrums from the kyber, a slow pulse that nearly sparkles, sending the residual heat of skin and life up Obi-Wan's arm, straight to his ever beating heart. 

So helpful his kyber crystal is, giving fuel to the flame of his infatuation that, once a slow burn, is steadily alight.

Cody leans back against the pillar, looks at him with those warm, big brown eyes of his and oh…

Obi-Wan steps into Cody's space.

Cody's sharp inhale and the way his hand comes up to touch Obi-Wan's belly is exactly what he wanted. 

Obi-Wan rests his arm beside Cody's head on the stone, bringing his face close enough to just feel Cody's breath on the whiskers of his beard.

Thick, black lashes fluttering downwards then back up. The want in those gorgeous eyes is magnetizing.

Obeying Cody's gravitational pull, Obi-Wan kisses him. The catch of their lips slow and tender, just a hint of saliva and suction, loving the warm nudge of Cody's nose against his cheek, and the bloom of Cody's Force presence like flowers turning to the morning sun. 

"Well done," Obi-Wan murmurs as he pulls away, chasing the wounded noise Cody makes with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Your performance was stellar today, as always. Always."

Obi-Wan clips his lightsaber to his belt and cups his darling's jaw with his newly freed hand. He sighs into the meeting of their lips. The soft warm comfort of Cody's mouth is offset by the rigidity of his armour below the waist. It’s as accurate a representation of Cody’s true self as it gets: compassionate and sweet while still deadly and unwieldy.

Though, as much as Obi-Wan adores this version of Cody—so delectable in only his codpiece, cuisse, and greaves—he’d selfishly prefer him stripped even further. 

Alas, he's getting ahead of himself.

Cody's arms curl around him, hands clenching in his tabards. Their lips make smacking noises with the separation of each slow, deliberate kiss.

It's with a bittersweet ache in his chest that Obi-Wan cherishes these moments for he never knows what the next day will bring. The reality of war is that any second of any day he could lose Cody and he'll never know another day painted warm and vibrant by Cody's dry humor and barely-there smiles, the rare times when Obi-Wan can make him really laugh and hear joy spring from his soul, the quiet steady companionship of his presence, and the compassion he shows his brothers. One day he'll never know another kiss, another pleasure coated sigh of his own name, or feel the needy way Cody curves his entire body into Obi-Wan’s to get what he wants. 

It is possible that Obi-Wan would be the one to go first but… he knows deep down, and has accepted it with peace, that he's meant for infinite sadness. 

He already nearly lost him that first time- the time Cody first kissed him.

However long Cody is willing to share these hidden pockets of love with him, he will cherish every second they have together.

He emphasizes this thought with a purposeful tug and suck of Cody’s bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. The thinner air at this altitude has them panting against each other, lips grazing slightly, a sensitive tingly, ticklish tease.

Cody rubs their noses together, as if trying to grasp any sort of intimacy he can while recovering his breath.

Obi-Wan’s heart squeezes painfully.

Never let it be said lest Cody try to kill him in his sleep… but Cody is not just a sweet, sweet man but adorable.

 Natural as the mist of cloudy mornings, Obi-Wan kisses him again. 

Everything about this is intentional. From the way he slowly draws their mouths together again and again, pace languid and savoring, to the way they've chosen each other- chosen to find these moments to do nothing but love. It's not a choice, really, that they will choose duty over each other if that's what it comes to. That's simply the reality of their existences. Those priorities will never change, not with how the war has molded them into thinking. 

No, the choosing is in the love. 

He does love Cody and perhaps always will. It's not been said. Nor does he know with absolute certainty that Cody feels the same.

Cody's presence in the Force has always been a bit of a comfort for Obi-Wan since they met. Through all the uncertainty and pain in the galaxy, Cody is sturdy and shines. He's not certain when Cody’s signature began emanating a warmth that curls into his chest and makes him feel at home. It could be that with time and the development of Obi-Wan's own feelings, every aspect of Cody became beyond endearing.

Or… it could be the manifestation of Cody's own feelings for Obi-Wan.

He's not certain. And he's very well not going to ask.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't.

Still, he catches quick moments sometimes out the corner of his eye where Cody looks at him with an impossibly soft look on his face and Obi-Wan thinks, 'Maybe-’

Really. It doesn't matter. 

He has Cody so readily in the cradle of his arms, drinking up every milliliter of affection bestowed upon him.

And, well, his train of thought falls to the wayside when Cody moans into his mouth and tries to drag him even closer between the v of his legs. 

He's not sure exactly what he’s done to make Cody react so positively but he goes with the motion as heat burns deep in his abdomen.

He teases at Cody's lips with his tongue and realizes his fault when Cody instantly opens his mouth and deepens the kiss. The inside of Cody's mouth is hot and wet and his tongue- licking all those spots that make Obi-Wan shudder into him. 

Not that it's not lovely—because it is, really—but this is not how he intended things to go. 

Cody's insistent against him, pressing for more, hotter, faster, harder.

With difficulty, Obi-Wan pulls away, dodging Cody's attempts to meld their mouths together. 

“Cody, dearheart,” he says, out of breath, thumb gently stroking the skin by the corner of Cody's mouth, “you don't need to devour me.”

Cody doesn't quite pout but it's a near thing. The way his eyes are glued to Obi-Wan's lips make tooka-eyes impossible. “Remains to be seen.”

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh and kisses his cheek. “Please, my-” he catches himself almost saying ‘love’, “dear. Just for now. Let me treat you softly.”

Cody considers this solemnly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nods.

Obi-Wan smiles. “Good man.”

The bob of Cody's throat at his words is gratifying. 

He closes his eyes and leans back in to capture Cody's lips for a few slow, lingering kisses. 

“That’s it. Easy goes,” Obi-Wan murmurs between kisses. Cody melts underneath him, pliant and accepting. 

He'll take every rare opportune moment to treat Cody like the indulgence he is– truly savor him. Hot plush lips between his own, a smooth glide aided by saliva. Slow and steady. Discovering how electric and titillating the simplicity is. Just Cody's warm body against his own. Cody's lips. Cody's sighs. Cody…

He's the sweetest of luxuries. And he should be cherished accordingly. 

Obi-Wan plants a path of kisses up Cody's cheek, right to the end of his brow, following the raised skin of his facial scar.

He's wondered if anyone else has gotten to love Cody like he has or if he's the only one to ply him with tender affection. He's wondered if, in a kinder universe, Cody would be left free of the scars Obi-Wan has gotten to know so intimately. If there were a universe as such, would Obi-Wan be given the chance to love Cody all over again or if another is destined for him- someone closer to his age and able to devote their life to ensuring his happiness.

He's tied himself into knots over this. The hypotheticals. 

He loves Cody. He loves him easily, unhurried and unconditionally. He loves him with every breath he shares loving the Jedi Order—his family—and this wonderous Force-filled world they live in. 

It's just that. He does not love Cody more than the order, more than his faith and his family. Cody is a part of his life. Whatever comes next, may it be death or freedom or- well, Force knows what, Obi-Wan hopes Cody remains a constant. Selfishly. More than a little lovesick. He wants Cody in his life. But he will accept whatever comes their way, as it is the will of the Force. 

 And if that means-

“Where'd’ya keep going?” asks Cody, big brown eyes of his gazing into Obi-Wan's soulfully. A deep brown that melts into a warm, rich amber. Beautiful.

“Nowhere of consequence.” He rubs his nose along Cody’s cheek. Breathes him in. 

“You sure?”

Obi-Wan drags his lips down Cody's jaw, smiling to himself and settling in once Cody shudders and angles his head out of the way.

“Absolutely certain,” Obi-Wan murmurs against his pulse point then kisses that very same spot.

A sigh from Cody is just the encouragement Obi-Wan needs to continue on. 

It's a gift having Cody so sensitive and wanting under him. An entirely different side of his commander than the stern, regal demeanor their troopers see day in and out. 

He kisses and sucks and nips the column of Cody's neck, delighting in the small, pleased noises he draws from Cody with every pass of his mouth over salty skin. 

He only leaves a couple of marks by the time Cody tugs him upwards. He's not too dismayed to leave the warm crook of his love’s neck because the expression on Cody's face is nothing short of wanton, absolutely debauched. 

Cody’s lips are still plump and kiss bitten. 

Obi-Wan can't resist. He traces the pad of his thumb across Cody's bottom lip. Breath shakes onto skin and Cody's mouth closes around the digit, suctioning him in hot, wet heat. 

He draws in a sharp breath.

His gaze darts to Cody’s eyes where he meets pupils blown wide with desire. Cody stares unflinchingly, daring and, oh… 

Cody has bewitched him, utterly and completely. Try as he might to retain composure, Cody is his undoing in these moments. The fragile strings of his heart (and… other parts of his anatomy…) pulled taut and ready to spring forward.

He wanted to keep it slow and soft, but Cody knows just how to arm him into an arrow ready to spring forth.

He pops his thumb from Cody's mouth and fixes his mouth and lips there instead, letting him know just how affected he is. He tastes Cody’s own desire echoed back to him in his moans and tongue and the needy press of his body that Obi-Wan keeps caged to the pillar. The fists that grab at his tunic and hair to try and get him even closer.

The high altitude forces them apart to breathe sooner than either of them would like but they don't go far, nuzzling noses and panting against one another's lips. 

“We’d better take this back to The Negotiator,” Cody says quietly, still out of breath.

Obi-Wan nods his agreement, sure that if they stay here a minute longer he'll be on his knees.

Hand in hand, they hurry away and the sunrise grows only brighter, pink tones making way for the brilliance of the full sun. Clouds drift with the breeze and all is as it will be.

[leapingbadger]

The Deserter - A CodyWan One Shot

His feet were heavy as he waded through the deep sand. The twin suns beating down on him. His armor had started the chafe as his sweat itched under his blacks. The Bantha had tossed him a few kilometers back, leaving him the arduous task of continuing on foot before the desert sunset brought his inevitable death.

He was close now though, although he didn’t know how he knew. Could he sense it?

The first sun had started to disappear behind the horizon as Cody made his way to the top of a sand dune. Silhouetted against the scarlet sky was a dwelling, sand beaten and worn. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it was uninhabited, but he knew it wasn’t. Again, he was not sure how he knew.

Boyed by the promise of his destination finally within his grasp after years of desperate yearning, Cody continued on. His steps steadier, stronger than they had been before.

He reached the final peak; it was all downhill from here. Cody took off his helmet to wipe his face, noticing a figure standing outside of the dwelling for the first time. He smiled to himself, of course he knew. He’d probably known he was on his way for a while.

Cody tucked his helmet under his arm and continued on, not taking his eyes off him. He felt an invisible electricity as the man���s bright blue eyes looked into his own, even from this far away.

They were ten meters apart before the cloaked figure raised a blaster. Cody froze.

“Are you here to finish the job, my dear Commander?” Obi Wan asked, a hint of humor in his voice but steely determination in his eyes.

“I…I…came to apologize, Sir,”

Obi Wan didn’t lower the blaster and closed his eyes.

“Don’t,” Cody said and watched as Obi Wan’s eyes shot open again, “I want…I need you to trust me. Without…without looking with the force. I…” his voice trailed off. Who was he to ask such things? To set such terms? Obi Wan had every right to be cautious. Who was Cody to ask so much of him? His beloved General.

Cody’s hand went to his blaster, his hand fast as he grabbed it and threw it away into the sand. Obi Wan didn’t flinch, didn’t even move as he did so. He knew. He had to know, Cody thought.

Obi Wan finally lowered his own blaster, a wry smile covering his lips, “I always hoped you would come,” he said, turning back into the small, round dwelling, beckoning for his Commander to follow.

“Here,” Obi Wan said, shoving a cup of water into Cody’s hand as he crossed the threshold.

The first sun had escaped the line of the horizon now, buried in the sand. The second sun’s amber glow illuminated Obi Wan’s house, the white walls transformed into a golden shrine. It might as well have been for Cody. It was where he had come to find absolution anyway.

Cody watched as Obi Wan busied himself, flitting from small room to small room, avoiding eye contact as he did so. It was so unlike him, Cody thought. His General was always so direct, so sure.

As he walked back into the same room as Cody, their eyes met. The blue pools of Obi Wan’s eyes hadn’t been dried up by the desert planet he now found himself on, but the rest of him was a shadow of his former self. His skin tan and worn, the hair once so cropped and neat hung long and shaggy. The grey streaks that had been visible at the end of the war had taken over the copper hue, each color battling for supremacy.

This was Cody’s doing. Cody and the empire.

“General,” Cody said, hoping to gain his attention. He had come such a long way. So many years of searching.

“I am no longer a General, Commander.” Obi Wan said pointedly.

“And I am no longer a Commander, Sir.”

They paused and gazed at each other. “Very well, Cody.” Obi Wan said. A warm smile erupted on his face.

How many years had Obi Wan wanted to call Cody by his name in public and in private and never be able to? Cody knew it was probably as often as he had longed to call him, his Jedi, Obi Wan.

“Obi Wan, I…” Cody stumbled over his words. He’d rehearsed this so many times for so many years over and over in his head. It was the silent thought that lit him from within. The one thing that kept him going on mission after mission. It was the one thought that made him leave the empire. It was Obi Wan, the ghost of him that had done that.

Obi Wan stood in the doorway on the other side of the room. His ragged robes discarded, now clothed more casually than Cody had ever seen him, but still every bit the Jedi. Even if he wasn’t allowed to be one anymore.

“I can’t explain it. What I did. I didn’t want to; I knew it was wrong, but I still did it…I am so sorry, General. And I’m so relieved you survived,” The last sentence spilled out in a guttural sob. Cody felt the knot in his chest loosen.

He didn’t know when it happened or how but Obi Wan had crossed the distance between them quickly, his arm resting his Cody’s shoulder. “I fear we were all pawns in a game we had no hope to win, Cody. I trusted you with my life…” he paused, head lowered but eyes raised to his former Commander, “…and my heart. I have no doubt I can do so again.”

Cody would have collapsed in relief had Obi Wan not caught him. Tangled on the floor of the hovel, Obi Wan held the commander as he wept. The years of anguish and self-hatred slowly seeping out.

“Thank you for finding me,” Obi Wan whispered, cupping Cody’s face in his hands and kissing him gently on the forehead.

Obi Wan’s strong arms encircled him, calmed him and with the fading light of Tatooine’s last sun, Cody could finally looked into his lover’s eyes once more and smile.

[betelgo0ze]

I’ve officially lost my will to live so here is an in-depth analysis on Star Wars sexuality’s and by “in-depth” I mean this is longer than I originally expected.

To be clear, most of these(minus a few) are headcanons. I’d love to hear your own headcanons in a CALM and RESPECTFUL manner lol. Headcanons are personal opinions and these are mine but again, I’d love to hear yours. I’m open to updating this list.

Obi-Wan: Obi actually is a semi-confirmed queer character. His bisexuality was briefly hinted towards and at the end of the day it very easily could be written off but it’s definitely more confirmation than anyone expected. Again, headcanons are just that. HEADcanons. They are personal ideas therefore are not canon though with his queerness being hinted towards it’s easy to simply accept it but it’s also easy to write it off. Most ppl choose for it to be 100% canon since again, it’s open to interpretation. I am one of these ppl lol. He’s also mentioned to possibly be asexual and I’m semi on board with this. Asexuality is a spectrum but in my head Obi-Wan is either all in or all out(that’s what she said) and as an asexual person I’m going to try and separate myself from him as best as I can. I’m bi, enby and ace but my asexuality is something I don’t talk about often so I won’t go in depth on it but note that my views are way different than other aces but they also could be the same. Huge spectrum. So here are some ideas, not really married to any:

-He’s just. A wh0re. Completely 

-Slut in theory but not in practice 

-Gives off wh0re energy but is just ace

Idk he canonically flirts with all his enemies which could be seen as slut in theory but idk I can’t imagine him being completely ace at the very least. Positively demisexual? But VERY much so, probably has only been w Satine *cough*Cody*cough* but that’s it. Idk this one I don’t rlly have a set idea on

JUST REALIZED I WENT OFF OH OBES LMAO SO UHHH SPEEDRUN

Ashoka: baby gay. Anakin has one of those “I’m proud of my lesbian sister” shirts. Currently trying to find a “I’m disappointed that my brother can’t hide his forbidden romance plot line” shirt(also getting one for Obi)

Anakin: straight but with Padmé he takes it up the as-

Also he’s been with exactly no one else BUT Padmé I’m sorry he’s a simp

Padmé: zero evidence but she’s bi (bi wife energy plays in the background)also unrelated but a total girl failure every girl failure needs her boy failure 

Maul: unlike Padmé I’ve got SO much evidence but also not rlly. In headcanon town I like to think he’s got a thing for Obi but in a canon mindset that’s impossible. Unfortunately my man would kill Obi if he got the chance which he has and just failed but fanfiction exists for a reason❤️❤️❤️

Luke: not a prequel character but I just had to add him bros a TWINK

Cody: Also out of nowhere but I mentioned my love for Codywan up there so ummmmmmmmmm gay

[notitlesapply]

SITHSPAWN FOR THE WIP GAME!!!!!!!!!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

Sithspawn fic my beloved!!!!! It's my most active fic atm. Basic concept is that the clones are all Sithspawn and the Commanders (but not the regular troops) all knowing that they're supposed to kill (and eat) the Jedi. It's a Codywan fic in Cody's POV and deals a lot with him coming to terms with falling in love with someone he's supposed to kill...and finds particularly delicious smelling.

Meanwhile Obi-Wan is hinted to have actually figured out his feelings and is not so subtly wooing Cody with burgers, french fries, milkshakes, noodles, grilled meat skewers, etc. It surprisingly became a very food centric fic 😂

Ummm since you know a lot of the previous already lemme give something I haven't talked about before: there's a scene where the lightsaber rifle from the comics is used to snipe Palps, but I'm not sure if I want to keep it, or have Palps die in a more dramatic battle. This indecision is the source of most my writers block 😂

[elwenyere]

Last Line(s) Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

I was tagged by @frostbitebakery: thank you so much for the tag, dear friend!!! Since it's also WIP Wednesday, please have a snip from last night's draft progress on the still-titleless Codywan Pirate AU.

.....

“You knew he was alive - knew we were within yards of meeting, but you kept it from me,” Cody continued. “Which means you meant for me to find out now. Why?”

“Because I’m going to make you an offer,” Kenobi said, “and I would like very much - for both our sakes - for you to accept it.”

Cody stared back. His chest felt tight, the pressure forcing a tide of acid up his throat.

“There’s not going to be any ransom,” he said. “You’re not going to let me go.” 

It shouldn’t have been a shock: of course, he’d known Kenobi’s reputation from the start. It would have been foolish to expect even the mercies he’d already received. Cody couldn’t stand to feel foolish. 

“I’m hoping you will choose to make your membership in our company voluntary.” 

There was a hint of apology in Kenobi’s voice that only wound Cody tighter.

“Why would I consent to that?” he demanded. “Out of gratitude? I have a family. I have people who need me. You’ve given me nothing that I didn’t have before you waylaid my ship - not even your first name.” 

“It’s Obi-Wan.”

There was a horrible scrape: Cody’s blade had gouged into the paneling, leaving a pale, beveled groove in the weathered boards of the deck.

“And it’s true I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” Kenobi said, “about the nature of my engagements.”

Cody snorted.

“You don’t say.”

Kenobi smiled.

“Professional habit,” he acknowledged, “and a personal one, perhaps. Other people have paid some rather high prices for my credulity in the past.”

Cody sighed, setting down his tools so he could clench his fists into the fabric of his pants.

“What can you tell me?”

.....

Open tags for anyone who would like to play!!! I would love to see what you're working on, beloveds. <3

[lightasthesun]

hey so after all the polls and posts and hints and everything... how's the codywan shappic life going? has anyone taken a chance with anyone?? kidding. I know y'all haven't done shit.

[rochenn]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, put the last line of what you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as you want or have words

tagged a while ago by @friendlyneighbourhoodelf <3

Here's a snippet of Rifle chapter 3, which will be coming SOON. I promise.

Unlocking his own terminal, Cody frowned at the new directive in his inbox, one that definitely hadn’t been there an hour ago. He sifted through the files. None of the requests therein made sense.  “I thought the Narkina 5 project was one and done.” Eif sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Now we’re gonna bust our asses over it again.” The facilities on that backwater planet had been finished a couple of years ago with help from their department. Supposedly, they were hydropower plants. While Cody didn’t doubt that power was being generated on Narkina 5, he had personally overseen some of the acquisitions made for the project from this very terminal, and their nature had ranged from reasonable to dubious. Not the amusing kind of dubious, but rather the sort that made you worry what exactly you were associating yourself with.  

Is that a hint of steel-reinforced plot? In MY codywan fic that was supposed to be PWP? It's more likely than you think (having codywan and Andor brainrot at the same time leads to dark places). Also, say hello to Captain Eif, Cody's least shitty nat-born colleague. I'm having a blast writing these scenes at HQ!

No-pressure tags: @charmwasjess @bolithesenate @in-a-mellow-tone @clonemmunism @ominouspuff @/You there! Yes, you! If you see this, go for it! I'm always forgetting folks anyway!

[weepylucifer]

okay here it is. i hinted at this one time in the tags of some reblog that probably no one noticed. but trust it has been on my mind. my AU with force-sensitive clones

so the kaminoans would probably want very hard to have everyone believe that clones can never have the force, and that is what they do tell everyone. bc they love to pretend that clones are little more than very adaptable flesh droids, and force sensitivity is a benchmark of sentience, and with the way the jedi make such a huge fuss abt it, they know that if they found clones to be strong in the force, they would get difficult about it and perhaps even about the whole war. so they spread the word around that clones cannot be force-sensitive at all ever, and most clones probably don't have any reason to question this

of course there are outliers bc clearly clones are people and can have the force like anyone else. we all know about clone trooper glitch. (in my opinion someone should also find a force-sensitive droid somewhere and let's see what happens THEN). but they'd be weeded out by the kaminoans before they can do anything with their abilities, and so word gets around the GAR that if you are the kind of trooper who makes things float sometimes, keep that shit to yourself or else. but most clones who are not strong in the force and don't have any brothers around them who are would likely never even consider this

okay this is our set-up

our focal character will be cody bc he's my favorite. i think if cody had the force he wouldn't notice. i love him but he's not the QUICKEST of all clones at questioning what the people in charge tell him. so he just wouldn't think about it. maybe obi-wan catches glimpses of something going on but, you know, these guys have SO much on their plates, they are fighting a war here. plus obi-wan might just go "of course i feel like cody's special somehow. it's attraction" and just brush it off as symptoms of codywan. maybe he considers looking into it but he never gets the time and then order 66 happens

so the force and the evil mind control chip do violent battle in cody's brain and he manages to snap out of it, but unfortunately too late. they've already shot obi-wan off the cliff, and cody has reason to assume he's dead now. everywhere jedi are dying. you know the drill

desperately, cody, for the first time in his life and purely on instinct, reaches into the force to somehow make things right. more than half mad with terror, as he is overpowered the way he's never been before by grief and rage and fear and suffering and horror and rage and guilt and rage and rage and rage, what he connects with, completely by accident, is actually, you guessed it, the dark side

the shit show began years ago when the clone war started, or perhaps the shitshow began even earlier, when sidious fell. but here is where the shitshow continues

[fandom-friday]

https://www.tumblr.com/brainrotrants/738619055735537664/the-commander-swap-chapter-1-brainrotstories

i don’t read bodyswap fics often (actually i can’t remember if i ever have 💀) but i love this one where cody and fox wake up in each other’s places and it’s exactly as punchy and crunchy as you’d imagine

i had multiple “oh shit” moments just from the dialogue alone and little hints and nods *cough cough* “his side wasn’t warm”

it’s got codywan and protective thorn and i’m so excited to see where it goes 💛💛

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT SO. I saw the tags and was like "oh, this is gonna be HILARIOUS," in my head, thinking "Fox is gonna give Cody SO MUCH SHIT". SHENANIGANS MAY BE HAD.

BUT THEN. BUT THEN. The ANGST. Fox's guilt. Thorn being protective. MY FEELS. I'm right there with you in that I don't normally read body swap fics, but boy howdy @brainrotrants punched me in the throat with this one (in a good way). Thanks for sending this one in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[inkformyblood]

one cup, two cup, three, and four (CWFKB23 #22)

@codywanfirstkissbingo Sleepy kiss, Modern AU, Fem Codywan

The flat is quiet when Obi-Wan manages to wrangle the door open through a mess of foliage and delicate string lights that throng their hallway. No need to worry about alarms or a security system when they had the normal mess and clutter of everyday life. She steps over Cody’s work boots, placed into the same spot every day, and loosely toes her own shoes off next to them. The sole gapes wide as she does so, revealing the softer innards of fabric straining away from rubber, and she ignores it as best as she can.

Tape is a godsend and where tape wouldn’t fix it, there is a small tube of superglue in one of the drawers she can ask Cody to try. The pads of Obi-Wan’s fingers are still discoloured from her last attempt at trying to fix a pair of her shoes so she’ll pass the problem to more capable hands. Her jacket is summarily discarded onto the back of the sofa and she lingers long enough to retrieve her lanyard and keys from the pocket, returning them to their forced exclusion into the small bowl on the counter for the next two days. The time off from work stretches luxuriously empty, free from any mandatory training or social obligations, and Obi-Wan skirts around the potential issue of their unique living arrangement as she flicks on the kettle, pulling one mug out of the cupboard, pausing and returning for another. Cody has the next couple of days off as well, a rarity with their opposite working schedules. Obi-Wan makes Cody’s cup of coffee how she likes it, strong and sweet and a splash of milk first despite Obi-Wan’s moral objections to the concept, and rifles through her small collection of tea. There is no caffeine in her immediate future if she wants to sleep for any part of the morning; another hidden delight of adulthood that’s tripped her over and bruised up her face. She chews on the tip of her tongue as she draws a bag free, dropping it into her cup and chasing it with the boiling water.

A door creaks further in the apartment and Obi-Wan rocks back onto her heels, a dozy prickle of contentment resting on the nape of her neck. Cody’s steps are steady, sleep-slow and her slippers smack against the floor as she makes her way into the sitting room. Much of her isn’t visible, a walking plaid blanket that hides her face and her curls, but the tattoo over her calf is clearly visible with one of her pyjama trouser legs drawn up over her knee while the other falls to the floor.

“Morning,” Obi-Wan says, breaking into a yawn that she doesn’t bother to hide behind her hand. Her manners are ingrained into her bones but even that runs thin and fallow after so long spent at work.

“G’morning,” Cody responds, her words muffled through fabric and sleep. Obi-Wan can picture her expression, her eyes still mostly closed and her gaze filtered through her impossibly long lashes and her grin easily worn in.

Obi-Wan follows her, both mugs in hand, and places them onto the clear spaces on their cluttered coffee table. She has options for seating, the low slouch of a battered armchair Obi-Wan carried to her student dorm, then flat, then four different flatshares before this one or the other end of the sofa that Cody has already claimed, piled high with blankets and a handful of cushions that Cody would claim as family heirlooms at the first hint of decluttering. She sits on Cody’s legs stretched out over the seat before she wriggles backwards into the hollow created. Cody grunts, shifting her legs straighter before she reaches down to tug a section of the blanket free, pulling it over Obi-Wan.

“You’re in early,” Cody mumbles. She’s partially spilled out of the blanket now wrapped around her waist. She stretches and her shirt rises with the motion, everything about her solid and real and beautiful.

Obi-Wan hums in agreement, leaning sideways against Cody who absorbs the motion with a soft sound. She wraps an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, playing with the loose edge of her sleeve. “Move your head up a bit? You’re lying right on my tit.” Obi-Wan does so, her face flushed but it’s fine. It happens. Cody continues, her voice a little more structured as she wakes, “Figured you’d like the bed to sleep after your night shift so I came out here for the morning. It’ll be nice having us both around the house, little human company to prove I’m not just another cog in the machine.”

If Cody is a cog, then she would be the best cog imaginable, something brimming with lots of interlocking teeth, a fundamental piece of the machinery. Obi-Wan tells her this because why wouldn’t she? It makes perfect sense.

Cody tips her head back as she laughs, the sound vibrating through Obi-Wan like it would rattle all the broken pieces in her chest back together. She curls closer, crossing her legs one over the other and then swapping them back, and Cody rights herself carefully, smearing the heel of her palm across her eyes. She curls her hand around Obi-Wan’s head, drawing her face upwards. The air hangs still and heavy, steam curling from their mugs nearly forgotten on the table, and Cody leans down, kissing Obi-Wan. She tastes like coffee and a stale tang of sleep and like home. Obi-Wan grins against her mouth, pressing herself closer, the mugs and sleep entirely forgotten.

[shootingstarpilot]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight!

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

217,911

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

back then, i was dauntless

how to bring him home

if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)

though some would harm you

like lightning changing hands

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅

I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-

Anyway. Community. That.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh. Hm. Hm.

I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.

Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-

I still got the email, prick.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.

Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.

I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?

At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-

Food on Stitch's plate, at least.

Then, one night, Needle does not come home.

A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.

He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.

(There is so much that needs doing.)

Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.

It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.

(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)

It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.

Ace tells him not to push it, but-

The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.

(His brother hasn't come to visit.)

Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-

He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.

They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.

(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)

Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.

(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)

Eventually, something has to give.

He does.

(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)

Featuring:

Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids

Ace being a supportive brother

Needle finding his way home

Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist

Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file

Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)

(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)

(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)

Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system

The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services

16.) What are your writing strengths?

(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!

Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."

If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."

If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Harry Potter.

Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!

(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)

No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!

[literallyjustanerd]

Chapter 4! It's exactly 5000 words! It's Codywan fluff and angst! It's got a clone OC cameo!

Cody divider by @freesia-writes with gorgeous helmet art by @lornaka

Summary: Brothers, reunited at last. As Cody and Rex fill in the blanks of their time spent separated, memories from before the end of the war float closer than ever to the surface. Memories of his general. And though he's overjoyed to be with Rex again, all is not well, in a way Cody can't quite understand. Will he be ready, when everything that has been hidden comes to light?

Words: 5000

Read it on AO3 or below! Hope you enjoy. Any and all comments are loved and appreciated and metaphorically printed out and pinned up with heart magnets on the little fridge in my mind :)

Obi-Wan moves like a ribbon through wind. Fluid and graceful, slick and sharp. Beautiful and devastating. The bright Kashyyyk sun turns his tunic translucent and sets his silhouette aflame as Cody watches and awes from below. It would be a death sentence to anyone else, yet Obi-Wan makes a dance of it. He’s an artist, each gleaming blue brushstroke leaving trails of elegant carnage in its wake. Around Cody the men cheer, an orchestra raising an accompaniment to their general's display. He loses grip on his saber when a droid knocks him forward, sends it plunging to the bottom of the canyon where his men had been cornered. Cody doesn’t fret, he has no need: it doesn’t slow his general in the slightest. Droidekas are airborne, then minced to scrap metal on the rock face with a regal wave of Obi-Wan’s hand. SBDs explode into blue and orange starbursts. They’re all but ignored by their destroyer, as though their purpose is merely to provide the gust of wind that artfully ruffles Obi-Wan’s auburn hair. He’s a poet. He’s a cyclone. He’s a force of nature. He’s Obi-Wan . 

The last droid falls, tumbling gracelessly from the cliff face above. Obi-Wan descends after it to the whoops and hollers of the 212th. With impossible lightness and an ethereal calm, he meets ground, mere feet away from Cody. Close enough that Cody can see how his pale cheeks have pinked with exertion. It’s the only hint that he has expended any effort at all, and somehow it only makes him look more radiant. His breath still eluding him, Cody steps forward and presents Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to him like it’s an offering at an altar. Fingers brush with a jolt of electricity, and he isn’t ready for the look in Obi-Wan’s eyes when their gazes meet: he’s looking into a mirror, seeing his own awe and adulation reflected back at him. Obi-Wan looks at him like he’s the rising sun, like he’s the one defying odds, gravity, and logic. The smile on his face as he takes the saber lights a fire in Cody’s chest, his next words fuel to the flame.

“Wherever would I be without you?”

“Your message… I couldn’t believe it. Thought I’d–” Rex chokes on the last word, his smile trembling, fighting to stay on his lips. He breathes a slow breath, and finally, the giddy haze around them begins to lift. “When I heard you’d gone AWOL, I thought it was just another Empire cover-up. I… I thought they’d killed you.” Cody reaches forward again to grip Rex’s forearm. Their foreheads collide with a comforting bloom of pain, a few more seconds lost to silence as Rex’s words sink in. Cody means to speak again, he does. But he can’t seem to find enough air in his lungs for any of the things he wants to say, nor does he think his ears could stand to hear the answers to his questions. Seldom has he ever felt so weak, and the feeling grits on him, sandpaper against his skin. He shudders to imagine what his men would think of him, had they ever seen him in such a state. A man reborn, stripped of his rank, his identity taken with it. For the first time in Cody’s life, he feels nothing like a Marshal Commander. As disquieting as it is, as untethered and formless as it makes him feel, it does little to dull his joy at the familiar face before him. He may not be Marshal Commander anymore, but for the present moment, at least, he thinks he can settle for being a brother.

Cody and Rex stay on the floor of the transport, gripping tight to each other for longer than Cody cares to count. They’re both breathless through tears and laughter, their embrace so vigorous it’s almost violent. Cody doesn’t care: Rex could break his ribs and Cody wouldn’t blame him one bit. It’s a small eternity before either of them can speak. When they do, it’s both of them at once, their words tripping over boyish giggles, jostling and shoving each other playfully, like children.

“Where’d you get this bucket of bolts?”

“–missed you so kriffing much–”

“You looked like a maniac back there!”

“–can’t believe it’s really you –”

“You actually found me, you really–”

Both of them join for the final refrain:

“You’re here. ”

Rex stands, reaches a hand out to help Cody off the floor, then leads him down the short hall to the cockpit, all the while speaking with another clone through the comm, arranging a rendezvous point somewhere in a system Cody isn’t familiar with. At Rex’s order, the ship’s other crewmates clear the cockpit. Thoughtful of him, Cody thinks, to give them both some time alone. Once he shakes this strange feeling from his bones he imagines he and Rex will be up half the night catching up. He takes the co-pilot’s seat as his brother sets the navicomputer, watching him work. Pale, shallow shadows roam across Rex’s face from the console lights, dipping into and deepening the lines on his brow and around his jaw, his mouth pulled to one side in focus. Once their course is laid, he releases a breath, and his shoulders lax somewhat into the worn seat behind him. Only then can Cody, too, let his aching limbs go. 

Eventually, Rex breaks the silence, laying his words out careful and slow in a way that pricks Cody's ears.

“Cody,” he says, low, “brother, I have to ask.” Cody’s back straightens. “Your inhibitor chip. Do you still have it?”

Memories lurch into his mind, sick and burrowing like Geonosian brain worms. Rex’s grief and panic after Fives’ death. The frantic searching for what it could all mean. Feeling it all the while deep in his bones, knowing there was something big, dark and snarling waiting for all of them just out of sight. The incoming transmission on Utapau that day, and the phantom words that had haunted him, hunted him in every quiet moment since.

Execute Order 66.

Good soldiers follow orders.

In the end, all he can do is nod. Rex stands abruptly, hand moving to the commlink on his vambrace. Beneath him, the storm-grey durasteel presses just slightly colder through his threadbare trousers.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Rex says, though Cody can’t be sure whether it’s directed at him or himself. His brother is a restless nexu pacing the length of the hold, turning sharply on his heel as he keys in a comm frequency. Each swift switchback coils Cody’s guts tighter, wringing a nauseating tension into his limbs. 

“I have a medical freighter on standby. We’ll get it removed.”

The questions begin.

It shouldn’t surprise him to learn just how vast the network is that Rex has built. He had read all The Empire’s reports on Rex’s activities, scoured them obsessively in fact, but in reality they barely scraped the surface of Rex’s operations. It seemed he had contacts everywhere, from covert agents lurking in the Coruscant underbelly to runaways-turned-pirates skirting the outer rims, Even on Nal Hutta, which, as it turned out, was the only reason Rex had been able to find Cody at all.

“Sent some men down to the bazaar where we traced your message. Had to bribe a saloon keeper to let us review their security holos, but we saw you leave with the scrapper crew,” he says. Cody nods along. Is it jealousy he feels at such a well-planned, coordinated team effort? “From there, we got in contact with a few clones in the scrapper guild, and managed to work out which crew it was and where you were headed.”

All those brothers. All living outside The Empire’s control. Just scraping by, yes, and by no means deluded enough to consider themselves safe, but out there nonetheless. Free, in a certain sense, certainly more so than they'd ever been under The Empire or The Republic. And all of them, even the ones not directly fighting, not only knew Rex, but respected his orders, trusted his advice, deferred to his command. A familiar pride swells in his chest when he hears Rex speak about it, the kind only a big brother can feel. 

It takes hours, or that’s how it feels to Cody: he hasn’t bothered to check the chrono. Rex tells him of their clone rebellion: Echo, Riyo Chuchi, all the missing or presumed dead clones that still have some fight left.

“It’s not easy going,” he admits, as though it bears saying aloud. “But we’ve managed to save a few. We’re getting stronger. Slowly.” Cody is struck dumb when Rex asks for inside information: the Kamino plot, the supposed pension plan, the rumoured clone decomissionings. The wounds of their recent past are even fresher than Cody thought, it seems: the salt of Rex’s questions stings more than he expects. He can’t bear not to be honest, though: he has no new information to share on the subjects, and in fact seems to know less than Rex himself. He had been kept even further in the dark than he’d known, moving hands passing him by in the dark corners his eyes had never adjusted to. A pawn in a game played just to kill time, to keep him busy while The Empire tightened their grip. Marshal Commander in name only, placated and too occupied with his own demons to question what was happening just out of view. The sharp breath punched from his lungs seems to fill the whole cockpit, the space around him shrinking to cage him in. The pains in his head have returned, to corral his thoughts away from where he tries to reach. Rex’s eyes are on him, he can feel it.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" he breathes. Cody doesn't reply. 

When his throat has turned scratchy from talking past the threat of tears, the river finally runs dry, and the questions stop, at least for the moment. Their journey is still far from over, and Cody suspects there will soon be more to talk about, once they have wrapped their minds around all they have covered so far, but for now there is peace. In the interim, Rex works a datapad at his side, brow furrowed over whatever report he’s reading. It's almost rhythmic, the way he keeps sparing glances in Cody’s direction. Every few minutes, attention shifting from the console, his head tilts over his shoulder to look surreptitiously over at his brother. Checking that Cody is still there, like they used to do before a drill test as cadets. A flicker of comfort warms Cody’s chest, fighting off the frost from deep within. It's a much-needed solace to know that Rex has felt Cody's absence just as keenly as Cody has felt Rex’s. It soothes Cody's mind, still aching from the sheer volume of information he's taken in over he and Rex's last few hours together. It’s hard not to ruminate, more on the subjects they didn’t cover than the ones they did, the unspoken questions that seem to take up more space the longer they’re left unsaid, their weight pressing on Cody’s chest as minutes scrape by.

He presses his fingers into his ribs, hard. It doesn’t do enough to hold him together, tendons and sinew unspooling themselves at his nape, in his stomach, through his feet. He answers each of Rex’s questions as plainly as he knows how, despite the growing fear of what Rex will think burrowing deeper into his brain. Each sordid detail laid bare in the harsh, blinding sun of his own words. Every order he followed with unblinking obedience, every awful act overlooked with play-pretend loyalty.

“I wanted to leave. I wanted to stop, I didn’t want to do any of it.” 

He speaks of the bitter jealousy that spurned him every time another brother came up missing on the morning ledger, even as he personally recited the warrants for their capture. The jealousy, sometimes, even of the brothers whose obituaries he had read. 

“I just couldn’t stop it. Whenever I tried, I– I didn't know where else to–"

Just when he feels he will lose his words altogether, Rex’s hand alights on his shoulder, cool water on a raw burn.

“I understand, brother. I know ,” he says. “We all do.”

When they finally lurch out of hyperspace, it knocks the question clean out of Cody’s lungs.

“What about the Jedi?” he blurts, and Rex’s hands freeze on the console. Both, Cody imagines, from the question itself and from hearing his brother sound so uncharacteristically fragile. His sigh is an answer of its own, in a way. Rex’s thoughts seem to press down on him until they drive a deep crease in his brow. Without the haloed light of hyperspace, the shadows have sharpened into a harsher relief, leaving jagged shapes carved into his face. His expression is resigned: he had been waiting for Cody to ask.

“We’ve… heard of surviving Jedi,” he says carefully. “But they’re few and far between. Most are just rumours. We’ve got almost no reliable intel on anything solid.” 

“But there are some reliable reports?”

A long pause follows. Cody gets the sense that Rex is debating with himself, whether or not to answer. Who is he protecting?

“Commander Tano was with you on Mandalore,” Cody presses, “wasn’t she?”

Rex nods, shakily.

“I read the reports. The venator crash… they said it killed everyone. Before they knew you were alive, your name was on that list. How–”

As weak as the shuddering breath is from beside him, it’s enough to cut Cody off. He hangs in the silence that follows, suddenly scared to even move.

“It was all Ahsoka,” he utters. His eyes won’t meet Cody’s. “Without her…”

It’s slow. It’s agonising. It’s like being frozen in carbonite piece by agonising piece . But Rex tells him everything. Every gut-wrenching detail of escaping the crash. And all the brothers who didn’t.

“She’s out there,” Rex finally says, once the storm lets up. “She’s… not ready. Can’t join the fight, not yet. She needs time.” His voice catches, quavering on his last words, and it sends a sharp sting into the corners of Cody’s eyes, too.

“She’s just a kid.”

Seconds pass. Rex allows Cody time to try and voice the question it seems they both know comes next. It remains unsaid, but Rex answers nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, brother. We haven’t heard anything of General Kenobi.” Cody bobs his head in a nod. With searching eyes and analytical intent, Rex watches his reaction, measuring, gauging. Cody shrinks under the attention, unsure what Rex is looking to find and fearing every possible answer.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I wouldn’t have expected it.” What he had hoped , on the other hand… 

“And General Skywalker?” Cody says, suddenly as desperate to be off the topic as he had been to address it. Rex’s mouth twitches, head shaking.

“I used to hope…” He sighs. “The reports all had holes in them. Thought it might mean he’d made it out.” He turns his gaze out the windshield. “But if he had survived, he wouldn’t be hiding. He’d still be fighting with us. I’m sure of it.”

Kashyyyk sings at night. An orchestra of warbling birds, howling pack animals and croaking insects. Even the wind through the forest behind lays a low, haunting melody over the velvet-soft undergrowth. It’s nothing like the stifling soundlessness of Kamino, or the driving, demanding mechanical rhythm of Coruscant. Cody leans forward, knee drawn up, to poke at the fire, embers curling triumphantly upward. Obi-Wan sits beside him, legs folded neatly into his usual meditation stance. On haphazardly scattered bedrolls, their men surround them, sleeping sound. Peace, rare and precious. Especially for Cody.

“Beautiful night.” Obi-Wan keeps his voice hushed, pitched low and gravelly. Cody turns to him. The flickering of the fire throws dappled light over Obi-Wan, glints of light and shadow showering him like golden flower petals.

“It is.”

A particularly mournful bird call sounds from somewhere behind them. 

“After the war I should like to return here,” Obi-Wan muses, “and explore it freely. There is so much history in this place. It's a shame to have to see it in such unrest."  His words are poignant, he knows, but Cody can’t take in anything beyond the first three.

“Do you think about that often?” he asks, skirting his gaze around Obi-Wan. “About… after?”

Obi-Wan shifts, sighs, leans back on his hands to tip his head to the stars. There’s a faraway look on his face, the tiny creases at the corners of his eyes growing like spring seedlings when he smiles. One of his tabards is slipping free from his shoulder, leaving a pale collarbone uncovered to the night. He does not adjust it. 

“I have already picked every old text and scroll I will study, when I finally have the time,” he says in answer. “Perhaps eventually, I will even take on another padawan. But first, I will travel. Until I find somewhere quiet and peaceful to rest.” He pauses a beat before half-heartedly adding, “Should the council allow it, of course.” Cody ponders the words, turns them over in his head like a puzzle, but still he can’t make them fit quite right in his head. The life Obi-Wan speaks of is beautiful. It’s all Cody would want for him. But he’s still trying to cut holes in his own reality to make those words fit when Obi-Wan speaks again.

“And yourself, Commander?” Struck dumb, Cody can only blink. Obi-Wan straightens beside him and tilts his head. “What do you want for yourself, once the war is over?”

And what can he do but be honest, when he turns to meet those dizzying blue eyes?

“I imagine you in a cosy little place,” Obi-Wan tells him, shifting his legs and turning to face Cody fully. His cloak and tunic sway with him, leaves in a gentle breeze. “Somewhere peaceful and green. Somewhere you can make entirely your own. Your whole life, you have given everything you have to your men. It’s one of your most admirable qualities,” and oh, Cody is not ready for what Obi-Wan’s smile does to his chest, how his words reach through his ribs and wring his heartstrings to breaking, “but I wish to see you take care of yourself, too. I want for you to build yourself a home. And I believe I know you well enough to know that somewhere within you, you wish for the same. ”

“I’ve never considered it,” he says, tacking an awkward “sir” to the end. “I’m a soldier. We all are. We don’t know any other way. Without this war… none of us have a purpose.”

With the look that Obi-Wan gives him, Cody may as well have shot his general in the heart. Obi-Wan's mouth falls ajar, but he stifles his instinctual reply and seems to ponder Cody’s answer deeply.

“One’s greater purpose is rarely just to be all that their creator intended,” he says finally, speaking the words like a prayer into the night. “You are more than this war, all of you. You have given so much for The Republic, but that is not your worth. You deserve more, you should want for more than this.”

Insides twisting and pulse stuttering in his fingertips, Cody tries to speak, to give the answer he knows Obi-Wan is waiting for. The fire lends him tendrils of gentle warmth, but its comfort, and Obi-Wan’s raw, solemn sincerity are formidable opponents. When it becomes clear that words are beyond him, Obi-Wan continues in his place. Ever eloquent, ever earnest, ever considerate. Cody’s brow pinches with a soft, tender, beautiful kind of pain.

What was it he had said next?

The stars blur when Cody looks up at them, blinking back the mist that gathers in his gaze. His pulse beats like battle drums as he takes a breath, steels his nerves, and meets Obi-Wan’s eye with the resolve of something more than a soldier.

“Do you imagine yourself there, too?”

The simple, sweet curve of Obi-Wan’s lip tears Cody into shreds, burns him to ash and pieces him back together in an instant. He sighs, soft and perfect, and leans in close. Around them, Kashyyyk’s gentle hymn reaches a soaring crescendo as Obi-Wan presses a lingering, reverent kiss to the scar below Cody’s eye.

Cody strains to finish the memory, until the now-familiar pain lances through the back of his skull. He flinches with it, lurching in his seat and drawing in a sharp breath, defences already worn down. A quick movement in the corner of his vision draws his attention, and when he looks toward it, his heart plummets through his feet. Rex’s eyes bore into Cody, wide, alert and searching. Rex tries to cover it up, to disguise it, but Cody had already seen: Rex’s hand had twitched toward his blaster. The curtain is pulled back, and the truth looms bright and terrifying behind it. 

Emptying the cockpit. Treating him so carefully. The reluctance to speak of the Jedi. The constant, furtive glances in his direction. They hadn’t been for Cody’s comfort.

Cody almost throws up on the spot.

Rex is scared of him.

He’s crushed by the weight of a dozen atmospheres as he realises fully just what his brother has been through, why he was so insistent on removing his chip as soon as possible. The rest of the journey, he can barely bring himself to breathe, determined to make himself as still and quiet as possible, desperate to keep from making things worse than they already were. He will get his chip removed, and everything will be okay. He won’t ever again have to see his brother look at him like an active landmine or a rancor set to charge.

They reach their rendezvous not a moment too soon.

Cody is brought on board, walking two steps behind Rex, nearly tripping on his feet. The waiting ship is as jerry-rigged and cobbled-together as its crew, and its medical bay is no different: all the supplies look stolen or salvaged, a far cry from the cold, pristine sterility Cody is used to seeing from medical bays. Needless to say, he’s apprehensive at the thought of surrendering his brain to the subpar equipment. But it’s easily overshadowed. For Rex. And for himself, as well. In truth, he’s been just as afraid of his mind as Rex for months now, and the thought of an end to the torment is enough to lure him through the seven Sith hells and back again. Rex explains the procedure as he half-listens, and as he’s positioning himself on the table, the doors hiss open and a medic enters. Much to Cody’s surprise, the clone’s scars and tattoos are familiar.

“...Lieutenant Finch?”

The clone above him meets his eye, then lifts his fingers to a lazy salute, grazing the winding serpent tattoo coiled at his hairline.

“Commander,” he says blithely. There’s a dry smile in his voice that just barely reaches his lips.

“You two know each other?” Rex’s voice rises, confused, from behind.

“I was decanted to the 212th,” Finch explains over his shoulder, foregoing eye contact and instead booting up and programming the surgical droid. “You know, before–”

“Before you deserted,” Cody finishes. Finch snaps his fingers into a point in Cody’s direction, giving a single, curt nod.

Breathe. In. 

Tension ekes into the room, like static electricity before a storm. Cody can feel Rex’s eyes on him. He can imagine how his brother’s mind turns, mapping out every direction this could go. Possibilities like trails of water carving a fractured, splintering path through dust. It was years ago, early in his career, but Cody can remember clear as day how he had felt when he’d received the report of the lieutenant’s desertion. All that hurt and righteous anger. The confusion as strong as the scorn at how one of his own could leave their ranks. He had felt so personally betrayed, as though the desertion was a black mark over his own head. In a way, he supposes, it was: never before had he been forced to confront the possibility that he and his brothers might disagree with their programming, were capable of taking their fate into their own hands. He’d blamed Finch for the fury that followed in himself. In retrospect, he’s not so sure that that is who, or what , he was really angry at. Cody lays his head back flat on the table. A sharp breath leaves him in what could almost be mistaken for a laugh.

“Guess you were smarter than all of us in the end, huh?” is all he says. 

There is no response from any of them, each listening in their own silent reverie as water trickles past them down an unfamiliar path.

A few minutes later, Finch has finished setting up for the procedure. Rex grips Cody’s arm tight before he goes under, tells him it’s going to be alright. As darkness seeps in from the edges of his vision and Rex’s voice grows distant and muddled, Cody tries to believe him.

Breathe. Out. 

Black. Thick, coddling, a woollen blanket muffling all his senses. Space, empty. Cavernous. The implication of an echo. No sound. Toes edge toward a precipice. Nothing, nothing, nothing, all the way down. A perfect nothing. A mollifying nothing. A final nothing. Toes over. Falling. Peace, relief, absolution. Mercy. Silence, finally, gods almighty, silence. Light on the horizon. It’s over. Rest. It’s done. Limbs move fluid, unchained. Unbound for the first time, feather-light and rejoicing. More light, bigger, brighter. Then colour. Shape. Then sound. Voice. 

Cody’s eyes open in small, seeking movements, attuned to absence. To beautiful, exultant, glorious absence. For the first time since Order 66, perhaps for the first time since the moment he’d been lifted from his incubation tube, Cody’s mind is utterly and completely clear, empty. Quiet. He wallows in it, drinking in the fleeting euphoria. A split second later, he hears it. Words unburied, memory unshrouded.

“Cody, my love… I can’t imagine myself anywhere else.”

To break that vow.

It’s only the first drop of the storm that follows, a single blade of grass in an endless, sprawling meadow. A million more memories follow in its wake: a private moment stolen together while working late, a surreptitious glance shared across the war room. A warm hand in his, holding tight but always gentle. His fingers smoothing through autumn-coloured hair. Tender words and hushed laughter. A single beam of light through a window, a single perfect morning. Waking slow, tangled in sun-warmed sheets, with the whole galaxy held sound in his arms. A whispered promise, a vow sealed with his lips against the gentle, curving valley between neck and shoulder.

His arm, heavy as stone, raising a blaster. To follow orders.

Great, flowered vines grow from the cracks in Cody’s psyche, probing, pushing at his mind. Too big, many for how small he has become.

His skull splits open. A sob tears itself from his throat, rattling his chest.

With graceless limbs he pitches himself upward, only to be held down by firm hands. He tries to cry out, but all that comes is the barest whimper.

“I fired at him. I tried to– Rex, brother, I– Maker, I ordered it all .”

He feels the embrace moments before his flagging senses catch up, vision plunged into darkness when he buries his face in Rex’s shoulder.

“Breathe, vod.” He obeys without thought or question. “Just breathe. It’ll pass.”

The sight of Rex still there, still by his side, barely disguising his concern, sets a fresh, raging flood over his mind, dragging more memories like driftwood to the surface. Every traitorous thought he’d ever had before the end of the war. Every restrained conversation he’d had with his brothers, with Rex especially, over what would become of them after the war. Every time they questioned The Republic, the Chancellor, the Jedi Council. Endless, circular debates always coming to the same dead end. Wanting to escape. Not wanting to abandon their men. The chilling, horrible dread in his bones touching down on Utapau, the foreboding feeling that it was already too late.

It’s a long while before Cody regains enough sense to sit and speak. Rex does not leave his side for a moment. He’s given a ration bar and a mug of caf. It’s bitter and burned. He drinks it to the last drop. Finally, mercifully, the silence begins to feel less like oppression and more like peace, as the pounding pressure in his head abates. His mouth quirks in a dry smirk when he finally raises his voice.

“Tell me I’m not the only one who took it that badly.”

Rex’s laugh is a balm to every wound he’s ever suffered, deep, full-chested and free. Leaning forward, he slaps Cody’s back, his shoulders hanging loose, at ease.

“You took it like a champ,” he chuckles. Cody wants to sing, to jump and cry for joy like a child. He has his brother back. But still, lurking behind his relief, the rest of his revelations threaten to drag him back under.

“Come on.” Rex stands and holds a hand out to him, his smile softer now but still stubbornly bright. As though he can read Cody’s mind, he says, “I know we’ve got a lot to talk about. We’ll get to it, I promise. But you need to rest.”

The doors glide open, and Cody doesn’t hesitate before stepping back into the world as himself once more.

“We’ve got our next heading. I’ll fill you in later,” Rex says, walking in step at his side. “For now, I think some of the boys have a game of sabacc going. It'll be a good way to introduce you.” 

He cracks a wide, teasing grin in Cody’s direction.

“You still a filthy cheat?”