#cody whump

[holdingonforheaven]

Febuwhump Day 13

"You weren't supposed to get hurt."

Cody and Obi-Wan deal with the aftermath of Kadavo

[jedi-lothwolf]

A Month of Whump Day 5: Sickfic

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars

Summary: Cody falls in love and catches a certain flowery disease.

  Love is such a strange thing. Cody didn't realize it could be so deadly. At first he was unsure of what was going on. He had just coughed up a few sunflower petals. Holding them in his hand he decided to go see Kix. It felt like something he shouldn't go to his medic for, why he wasn't sure.

    Cody walked around until he found him. "Kix, I need to talk to you."

    "What's going on Commander?" Kix asked.

    The commander pulled Kix into a nearby empty hallway and showed him the flower petals.

    "Sunflower petals?" The medic felt uneasy. Cody wouldn't get him for something that wasn't serious. "I don't understand."

    "I...coughed them up." Cody looked down. "I'm not sure why."

    The medic just stared at him for a moment, "you.. coughed them up?"

    "Yes."

    "Let me look into this. I'll come find you when I know. For now just drink water and let me know if anything changes." With that he left.

    Cody walked back to his room. On the way he started coughing again. He felt the flower petals coming up and after a few seconds they were in his hand. This time the petals from a pink Dahlia.

    Not quite an hour later Kix hunted Cody down. After checking just about everywhere he finally looked in the general barracks. There Cody was sitting with Waxer. The clone had a hand on his commander's back while Cody sat with his forearms on his thighs.

    "I found out what's going on." Kix started.

    Cody sat up and nodded his head.  Waxer looked over at Kix, "good. So what is it?" The lieutenant had found Cody in the hall with the pink petals in hand. He didn't seem like he felt very well so he took him to the barracks.

    Kix kneeled down in front of the bed and started to explain. "It's called Hanahaki disease. It comes from unrequited or perceived unrequited love. Flowers grow in the victim's lungs. There are two ways to get rid of it, surgery; which will remove your feelings for the person, and for the person to be in love with you."

    "Love?" Waxer looked at Cody, "who are you in love with?"

    Cody just looked at the two. What would they think? The man was in love with his superior. It was inappropriate.

    "Someone I could never have." Cody sighed.

    "What does that mean?" Kix asked.

    "You love the general don't you?" Waxer stated. "I see the way you interact with him, the way you look at him."

    Cody was quiet. Silently he nodded. "Your best opinion then is the surgery." Kix spoke.

    "No, not yet."

    "Sir, this can and will kill you if you don't act on it." The medic stood up.

    "Have you told him?" Waxer stood as well.

    "No."

    "Well then you have to."

    Cody didn't say anything. Instead he stood up and walked away. He couldn't tell him. He could tell his general that he fell for him. He would just have to deal with the flowers for now.

    As time went on the disease got worse. Cody's lungs were being overtaken by Sunflowers and Dahlias. He was tired and in agonizing pain all the time. Breathing felt like he was being stabbed by a million tiny needles. The worst part was this cursed illness affected his leadership. The clone couldn't do as much as he used to. Some of his brothers caught on and tried to help where they could. No one knew what was going on and he wouldn't tell. When Obi-wan caught on he too did whatever he could.

    Something about the feeling of dying calmed Cody. It proved he was alive in the first place; that he wasn't some droid. He was in love.

    Waxer and Kix continued to press, trying to convince him to get the surgery or to talk to the general. He refused to do both. The clone commander was scared of the answer if he confessed. He was unsure of what would be worse, if Obi-wan didn't feel the same or if he did. The two would be stuck knowing that they loved each other but could never act on any of their feelings because of the Jedi code. Of course Obi-wan could always hate him afterwards. But if he got the surgery he wouldn't love Obi-wan and the thought of that was something he couldn't bear.

    Now the battalion was preparing for battle. It was the night before and time to sleep. Cody couldn't really sleep anymore. His inability to breathe well kept him awake. When he finally did fall asleep he woke up to a stabbing pain in his neck. Rubbing his hand over it he paused. A flower had grown through his neck. It felt like a sunflower. Unsure of what to do he went to find Waxer.

    When Waxer was woken up in the middle of the night he thought something had happened with the enemy. It wasn't until he was the flower that he understood what was going on. "What the fuck?" He sat up. "I didn't know it could do that."

    "I didn't either. What do I do now?"

    "How am I supposed to know? I'll call Kix."

    After a moment Kix answered, "what's going on?" In the background the two could hear the sounds of war.

    "There's a flower sticking out of Cody's neck." Waxer spoke quietly.

    "Good Kriff."

    "Can we cut it out?" Cody asked panicked.

    "Yes but be extremely careful!"

    "Got it. Be careful!" Waxer replied.

    "Thanks Kix." Cody turned off the comm. Then Waxer went to find scissors or a small knife. Cody started coughing again. This time blood came out with a full Dahlia. The clone struggled to breathe, both from panic and the injury. His throat was raw and it showed in his voice.

    When Waxer returned Cody was struggling to breathe. Not that he hadn't been but it was worse than normal. When he saw the Dahlia covered in blood and the sunflower in the commander's hand he commed the medic and the general quickly.

    Boil had heard the noise and ran over to the two. He kneeled beside Cody and tried to help him breathe. After another flower escaped his mouth he started to breathe a little better.

    Obi-wan was the next to arrive. "Waxer what's going on?" Then he saw Cody. Without thought he immediately rushed over to the man. Boil moved and Obi-wan took his place. "Cody what's wrong.?" The flowers took him by surprise. "Who?"

    "Who?" Cody whispered.

    "Who are you in love with?"

    It clicked with the others before Cody. Obi-wan was a Jedi of course he knew what Hanahaki was. The disease would give away any Jedi that broke the code.

    Cody finally gave in, "you, sir."

    There was silence for a moment. "Dear, you should have told me sooner."

    "That's a good sign" Waxer whispered over to Boil. He looked over to his brother confused, "Waxer what's going on?" Waxer would quietly explain the situation while the others talked.

    Obi-wan moved closer to the commander and placed his forehead on the others, "I love you too."

    Relief hit everyone. Relief turned into dread as Cody relieved something. The two were in love. Obi-wan was a Jedi and he was a clone. There was the code, their ranking, and a war stopping them.

    "Are you okay?" Obi-wan asked. Cody broke out of his thoughts and opened his eyes. Looking into the Jedis bright blue eyes he felt safe. Kenobi had that effect on people.

    "Yeah." The next day Cody stayed back by order of Obi-wan and the medic.

    Time would pass and Cody would heal. It took about a week for all the flowers to get out of his system. It took a little longer for him to feel strong again. The lovers talked and decided they would act on their feelings, no matter how dangerous it could be. They loved each other and nothing could stop that. Sunflowers and Dahlias could grew around them until one day their love would kill each other. Hopefully it would never come to that. Hopefully.

[glimmerglanger]

Haunt Me, Then (2/6)

Happy Wednesday!

I've got part two of "Haunt Me, Then" up on ao3. This is a post-Order 66 AU with an eventual hopeful ending. Codywan, but, again: it's post O66.

2224 continues to try to find a way forward while dealing with Jedi ghosts and the broken world he's living in.

Warnings for: canon typical violence, canonical levels of character death, suicidal ideation, angst, trauma (mental and physical), and dehumanization.

Updates M/W/F

[dontbelasagnax]

@codywanfirstkissbingo: kiss of life

It shouldn't be like this. He had plans. Dreams.

He'd thought of a gentle kiss shared one late night when the hum of companionship and longing looks spilled over. Lips tasting of herbal tea and ration bars.

Or, hidden away in a dark corner of Coruscant on a rare shore leave, they'd find comfort in giving into what they've both wanted for so long. Hands tangled in hair, remnants of their meal licked from blisteringly hot mouths, not a care in the world.

Perhaps they'd wait till after the war. Reach for one another amidst cheers and find joy and relief in their embrace and long awaited kiss.

Instead, he presses his lips to Obi-Wan's for the first time and does his best to breathe life into unresponsive lips and lungs. He can't ignore the acrid taste of blood and ash. There's nothing but terror and heartache lancing his chest.

'Not like this', he thinks, a hot tear running down his cheek. 'Please, stay with me.'

(bingo card under the cut)

[131-vr]

In number one.

[journen]

For the @whumptober alt prompt “carried to safety”

Here’s Obi carrying an injured Cody. Usually it’s the other way around, so I wanted Obi-Wan to be carrying Cody hahahah. These two have had a rough battle!

[cj-kenobi]

The second piece I did for the @obiwanwhumpminibang! This one is for the incredible @ihathbenobiwankenobied's fic the comforts that make us feel numb!!

And thanks to you and @hellotemporaryuniverse again for running such a cool event!!

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 8

Part (8) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

At a whopping 27,000 words, this accidentally became the biggest arc in the series. Oops. Anyway, I've certainly been a bit possessed about getting it done, so here yuh go!

Warnings: Honestly, aside from the standard guilt and regret, this chapter is mostly fluff

WC: 2,913

He held me until my breath eased back into a quiet, rhythmic ebb and flow free of even the occasional hitched gasp. At some point, he’d shifted just enough to lean his shoulder against the wall, hand lightly clasped around the back of my neck as his fingers trailed absently atop the skin peaking out between my blacks and hairline. Part of me knew I shouldn’t stay like this; that hiding against him only delayed confronting the guilt I’d see in Wolffe’s eyes, the trepidation and doubt in Cody’s, but it was so easy to pretend otherwise, to keep my face nestled against his throat and let all thought of what responsibility awaited us beyond those walls fade as seconds turned into minutes.

A crippling realization struck me in that moment. I was hiding. I was hiding from the risk of another mission and another near disaster. I was hiding from the damage that had already been caused and the inevitable destruction still awaiting me. I was hiding from the certainty that even worse might be befall those around me at any moment; doubtless of just how effortlessly that might break whatever fleeting reserves of strength somehow managed to keep me going through all that had already happened, and I knew that that very fear of them getting hurt was likely the only thing keeping me from yielding that I might be there to help them in any way I could.

But it wasn’t just the fear of impending nightmares that kept me curled in the arms of a man I remembered hiding from so many months prior, back when we were strangers and I shied from the intensity that burned in his eyes when faced with even a simple question; the deep quiet he’d fall into while considering every aspect of a problem before coming to a decision, and the unease that would fill me at the mere thought of finding myself the subject of that frightening focus. So much had happened since then, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but grateful for his presence in that moment, for the calm he granted me even as reality seemed to shift with a wretched understanding.

I was hiding from Wolffe; from the way his voice had threatened to break when last we spoke, from the tension that stole the effortless visage of command from him whenever we’d found ourselves alone. I was hiding from the squad that I could no longer think of as mine, from the longing in their eyes for a time that was now gone and would never again grant us the incredible breadth of comfort once gleaned from the sense of family we had found in each other, now felt only with a nostalgia tarnished by the horrors filling these past few days.

I wanted to weep anew at the thought of those coming farewell’s weighted beneath guilt and regret and the want for a denial we knew to be useless. In that moment, I longed to let myself be weak; to beg Hunter to tell Wolffe to leave that I wouldn’t have to face him at all, and I hated myself for that weakness.

The gentle dance of his touch stilled; fingers half buried in my hair as he subtly turned his gaze toward me; waiting. I drew a slow, resigned breath, held it in a final plea for even a few seconds’ more of a delay, and finally let it out in a controlled sigh as I pulled away from him.

“Thank you.” I whispered, eyes raising to just glimpse his. His thumb swept once more along the length of my neck before finally letting his hand fall briefly to my arm and then to the floor near his waist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Doc.” He replied softly, attention carefully locked on me. My lips drew up in an empty smile as I turned to glance thoughtlessly around the room. When I began to draw movement back into my limbs, weight shifting to balance atop a knee in preparation of forcing myself to my feet, Hunter quickly reached back out to me, arm looping around my shoulders as though anticipating the way my muscles would instantly waver at that first hint of strain. I was no stranger to the way grief and fear and panic left one so hopelessly drained yet always found myself unprepared for how ruthlessly that exhaustion struck. Unphased, I leaned into his support; let myself rely on his strength in the absence of my own as he carefully pulled me up alongside him.

“If we stay in here much longer, they might get the wrong idea.” I muttered, peaking towards him to see the way his brow cocked in surprise, but he let out a quiet chuckle at the weary smirk I managed to shoot him.

“The last thing I need is Crosshair hearing those kinds of rumors from regs…” He grumbled back, and I was shocked at how easily the huff of laughter escaped me. “Are you okay to walk?” He asked, voice dropping into a whisper as though that might prevent it from robbing us of that brief, precious moment of lightness. I nodded, forcing my back straight despite the reluctance weighing down my shoulders. “Alright.” He murmured and I tried to ignore the chill left in the wake of his touch as he slowly stepped away from me.

Whatever conversation had filled the silence beyond the office walls ceased with a harsh finality the instant that door began to open. I could feel Hunter standing just behind me, attention still following my every movement as though I might tumble without warning. Cody was the first to approach me, helm tucked under his arm and expression still somehow void of the disappointment I kept expecting to find.

“Commander, I-” He dismissed whatever attempt at an apology I was still trying to piece together with a simple wave of his hand and subtle shake of his head.

“Just get to the barracks and try to get some rest.” The innate authority in his voice was softened by a compassion that I still found myself shocked to hear from someone in his position and could only respond with a small nod.

“I can come back tomorrow – answer any other questions you have.” I offered, but he again dismissed it.

“Between what you’ve already told me and what I discussed with Commander Wolffe, there’s no need for that. Just take some time; try not to lose yourself in what happened.” He barely whispered those final words, willing them into me with a quiet understanding that I couldn’t begin to pretend I didn’t need. He ducked his head in a small bow before stepping past me into his office, and I hesitated just a moment longer before turning toward Wolffe.

“Guess I overestimated myself.” I mumbled, voice straining past the stiffness in my jaw, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to the subtle feeling of Hunter’s hand coming to rest against the armor sweeping across my lower back, nor my inability to deny the depth of comfort it gave me.

“No one’s holding that against you.” He replied softly before his gaze shifted to the man behind me. “Take care of her.” There was none of that disdain he’d once regarded Hunter with; no sneer of disapproval, and Hunter mirrored that unspoken respect with a silent nod.

“Wolffe.” I called hesitantly just as he’d begun to walk away, nearly cringing at the remorse in my own voice; the threat of shame. “I don’t… Will you tell the others I’ll be okay? I just… I can’t…” How could I explain the way it would cripple me to see their guilt again? To hear their apologies despite knowing they’d done nothing to warrant such sorrow?

“Don’t worry about them.” He explained, voice quiet but no less commanding for it. “Just be safe, kid.” There… just lingering beneath that infallible composure… Even Wolffe couldn’t keep the traces of an apology from his farewell. Gaze falling lest I note even a glimmer of regret in those stern eyes, I fought to offer some trace of a smile before turning away. The sense of finality in that farewell left my breath trembling slightly, and even the way Hunter shifted nearer to me did little to ease the sense of loss twisting through my chest.

-

“Cody’s already granting us clearance for the mission details.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, gaze once more hidden behind that dark visor as we walked unhurried through the corridors of the Negotiator. “You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it…” My head fell slightly at the gentle invitation, and I knew he could hear how my heartbeat quickened at the mere thought. When I gave no answer, he didn’t press, but I couldn’t dispel the tension that lingered in the silence between us.

“I don’t think Wrecker’s ever going to let you go off on another mission without us.” He added a moment later, somehow managing to sow a wisp of humor into his voice, and a small scoff escaped me.

“Even if it’s the 104th calling you again?” There was something beneath the teasing lilt in his voice, but I was too weary to try to name it.

“Given my track record, I don’t think he’ll hear any arguments from me…” I grumbled.

“I didn’t know I’d be working with them this time until after I’d boarded the transport.” His helm shifted toward me, and I could easily picture the way his brows had surely risen above eyes widened with surprise. “But, no.” I added quietly, pace unchanged as I tried not to think too deeply on the painful words slipping over my tongue. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to work with them again.” Hunter stopped walking. I didn’t, intent on not falling back into the remorse that was all too eager to overwhelm me again.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, treading back to my side. I gave a weak shrug, collecting my thoughts a moment before responding.

“Too much has changed… Besides, they have a jedi watching their backs. Without me, you lot only have dumb luck and sheer stubbornness.” A quiet chuckle just sounded through his comm system, and I found myself joining him in with a snicker of my own as his hand reached up to lightly jostle my helmet. It was heartbreaking – that conscious understanding that I no longer belonged with the 104th, but I had harbored no doubts that it was the right choice; that the 99 had become my family in a way the others never could.

-

“Doc!” Wrecker’s shout boomed through the nearly empty barracks, and I barely had time to draw in breath for a reply I never got to speak before his arms locked around my waist to hoist me up in an embrace far softer than his normal hugs. Still, laughter sputtered from my lips at the welcomed display of affection I would always treasure from the man, hand automatically darting out to his shoulder to steady myself despite the knowledge that he’d never let me fall.

“It’s almost like you missed me or something.” I teased, earning a brilliant smile from him that was so utterly free of shame or hesitation as he gently set me back down.

“Those regs need to find their own nat-born next time! It’s not fair for them to just come and steal yuh away whenever they want.” He complained, hands lingering on my hips for just a moment longer to ensure I was steady before stepping back.

Two rows of double bunks stretched out before me in a room designed to hold at least a company of one hundred though the entirety of it had been reserved for our tiny squad. Crosshair stood leaning against one of the upper bunks a few rows away with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, attention locked on me from the corner of his eye while Echo and Tech sat together atop a lower cot a mere handful of strides from the door, the telltale mess of cables strewn between them warning of some half-started project.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” I reassured him in a gentle sigh. “Pretty sure this was a one-time thing.” I could see the concern lingering in his gaze despite his efforts to hide it beneath his usual glee, the subtle threat of anger it fueled, and had to look away.

“Hey stranger.” I said softly. His chest bucked slightly around a sharp breath, mouth just beginning to open before closing tightly in a final bout of hesitation, but then he let out a small huff, forcing some of that tightness from his shoulders.

The instant I glimpsed him, the arc quick pushed himself to his feet, eyes torn between meeting my gaze and darting away as his jaw tensed around whatever attempt at a greeting caught in his throat. Had he been there when I first landed? Had I simply been too lost in my own thoughts to notice? My heart sank at the thought, just managing to offer the ghost of a smile in the face of how stiffly he held himself.

“Hey.” He whispered, and I heard clearly the apology in it, but it was nothing like those plaguing every word uttered amongst the 104th. There was a warmth in his apology; a subtle self-deprecation softened with something near enough to humor that my smile bloomed with relief.

“I see you two have been making the most of this little vacation.” I started, looking pointedly at the assortment of mysteriously procured supplies. He glanced quickly over his shoulder as though he’d forgotten the project entirely before turning back to me.

“Echo suggested a few interesting modifications to his cybernetic legs.” Tech stated before his brother could try to explain. “This is merely the initial prototype. Rebuilding his legs entirely will take significantly longer than a few days, but this will allow us to test the efficiency of our new design.” I looked back to the arc with surprise and found him fighting a sheepish grin.

My head fell toward my chest, stomach churning with regret for having offered at all despite Tech’s automatic “thank you.” Swallowing back the anxiety threatening to coil through my gut, I finally let myself glance toward the tall sniper still watching me from just the corner of his eye, and the little thrill of glee that seeing him shot through me offered a precious sliver of relief. He barely reacted as I approached him, head just shifting to follow my movements until barely a foot lay between us, and I let out a heavy sigh full of mock guilt and remorse.

“Wow.” I chirped, pleased to hear they’d managed to be so productive despite how strained things had been over the past few weeks, “Let me know if you need any help synching it to the neural interface.” Echo’s face darkened for barely the breadth of a heartbeat, but it was enough to remind me that the effortless connection that once came so easily to us still lay far beyond my grasp.

“I may have jinxed myself.” I muttered, and a quiet chuckle escaped me at the way he cocked his brow, unimpressed by my admission. “Was I right? Did you mope the entire time I was gone?”

“Yes.” Hunter called from the front of the barracks, kindling my chuckle into a short burst of laughter as Cross shot his brother a lethal glare.

“Just got back and you’re already trying to cause trouble.” He growled under his breath, earning a coy smirk from me. Only then did he begin to abandon that impartial veneer, weight shifting as he pushed himself away from the bunks to reach for me, and I could feel my entire body lighten with the deep sigh that fled my lips at that first rush of warmth from his embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asked, words barely audible as they danced through my hair. The rote reassurance so nearly fell from my lips absent a moment’s thought before catching in my throat. I could feel him tense in those brief seconds of hesitation before I reluctantly shook my head.

“Not yet.” I answered, voice heavy with every unspoken reason forbidding me from trying to convince him otherwise. “But I’m really glad to be back.” He went still for a long moment, but then his arms tightened almost harshly around me, body curling over mine as though he might hide me from what darkness lingered behind the veil of empty smiles.

We both knew there would be no walking away from the damage wrought during my time apart from them, but I let myself relish that moment of stillness; the hum of quiet conversation between Hunter and Wrecker, the rhythmic clicks and hisses of tools augmenting metal and wire beneath Echo and Tech’s ministrations, the steady thrum of Crosshair’s heartbeat dancing against me as I rested my forehead to his neck, shamelessly letting myself vanish in that heady spice and tang of blasterfire. Every day spent fighting this war brought untold risks and dangers, but I held no reservations that this was exactly where I belonged, and no threat was great enough to see me leave them for even a moment more.

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[doodlingfoolishness]

Post-The Solitary Clone. It’s not until the next morning, getting ready to shave, that Crosshair realizes the brush with the BX commando droid had been closer than he’d thought. Lucky Cody was there, he thinks, gingerly examining the bruises around his throat, the burst blood vessels marring the whites of his eyes. I owe him. But then he remembers Cody’s unsettling words by the memorial.

He stares into the bloodshot eyes in the mirror. I was following orders, he reminds himself. The eyes stare back at him, hollow and unfamiliar.

He lathers up and shaves, but he does not look into the mirror again.

[holdingonforheaven]

Me: okay, guys, you ready to write some whump?

Cody: nah Obi-Wan: yeah, i think we'd rather just (looks at Cody)...kiss? Cody (nodding): kiss. yes. Me: what? no, that's not the scene-- Cody (diving into Obi-Wan's lap): you're not in charge here Obi-Wan (muffled): mm-hmm, this is what we're doing now Me: ಠ_ಠ

[jedi-lothwolf]

Febuwhump Day 22: Can't Scream

Fandom: Star Wars

Timeline: The Clone Wars

Warnings: Body horror, graphic depictions of violence, and mentions of suicidal thoughts

Maul could be quite creative. When he kidnapped Obi-wan and Cody he offered the Jedi a deal; if Obi-wan sat through the torment without screaming then maybe they could live. If not then Obi-wan would have choice but to watch as Maul killed yet another member of his family. Then he would also circum to the cruel fate of a slow and painful death.

With no other options Obi-wan took the deal. Cody was chained to the wall, forced to watch as the man he loved was brutally tortured.

Obi-wan was forced to the center of the room. He pleaded that his lover be taken someplace else but Maul could care less. The sith knew it would only make matters worse as the two would try to help each other.

When Maul brought the vibro-knife out Obi-wan closed his eyes and hoped they would be alright. The knife slide carelessly across his back. Holding back the deathly noise the Jedi clenched his jaw. Right after the knife would mirror the previous wound.

Obi-wan's breathing speed up and tears crawled out of his eyes. Crying was allowed so he didn't worry himself with it too much. Cody however did. He pulled desperately at the chains that kept his from his loved one. Not knowing if he was included in the no screaming deal the commander talked at a normal level when trying to comfort his partner.

Maul moved to put the knife down to grab a different tool. Obi-wan conjured a way to keep quiet. Eventually screaming would be inevitable as it was a bodily reaction to pain. The only way he could think to avoid screaming was to damage his vocal cords. But how could he manage that? Was there a way to do so without killing himself? Should he just kill himself? That would protect Cody. No, the pain that would bring may be too much for the man.

Finally it hit him. He gently raised his hand slightly. He looked over to Cody and spoke softly, "I love you dear."

"Don't do this." This couldn't be happening. Was Obi-wan really going to?

The force worked in strange ways. Usually a Jedi was not to use the force for violence but this time an exception could be made. Of course Obi-wan could not use the power against Maul; he wouldn't risk it not working. The feeling of his vocal cords being ripped apart was not a feeling the Jedi ever experienced to feel. Sometimes the uses the force could be used for scared him but this time despite the terror he was glad it could be done.

Blood leaked into Obi-wan's throat and escaped out his mouth. Maul stood stunned, debating his next move.

Cody couldn't see straight. Tears blocked his vision as he tried to figure out what happened. "Dear what did you do?" He started "Obi-wan what did you do?"

Obi-wan looked up at Cody. Now he wouldn't scream. He secured their safety, sure but now he wouldn't speak again. How was he supposed to be the negotiator if he could speak? How could he lead his men into battle if he couldn't yell? All the questions that flooded his mind would have to be answered later.

Maul chuckled, "smart move Kenobi but I'm not done." The torture would continue. By the time Maul was done Obi-wan could hardly breathe. The general's left leg had been sliced off, his right arm crushed, the other arm would have to amputated up to his elbow as well as the foot on his right leg. The man's ribs had been broken; his back littered with large and small lacerations. To accompany the cuts, colorful bruises covered his body. To finish off, Maul grabbed Obi-wan by the neck, strangling him. Trying to stop the sith was pointless.

As it seemed death was going to claim him Maul threw Kenobi's pain stricken body to the ground. Afterwards he unchained Cody and allowed him to take care of his lover.

From there the focase was keeping Obi-wan alive. Maul kept up his end of the deal and dumped the two off at a nearby star port. Some EMTs would quickly arrive at the scene and take him to the hospital. There all the necessities of his care would be met. Cody would get in contact with the Jedi council who would send Anakin out to retrieve the two.

Never did Obi-wan think he would be so thankful for the pain the force could inflict on an individual. His voice would be a small price to pay. Never screaming meant he could never raise his voice at the people he cared for. No harsh words could be yelled in aggravation. However not being able to yell could lead never being found when trapped or to alert others of danger.

Metal would replace lost limbs and stitches would keep torn flesh together. Obi-wan's vocal cords could be fixed but it would take time. Most surgeons would wait at least a year before attempting to fix the seemingly permanent damage.

At the end of the day at least the two were alive. Yes the sacrifice Obi-wan's voice had been necessary but what now? How can you lead if you can't yell? How will the soldiers under his command know what to do? Time would only tell.

[des8pudels8kern]

I'm excited to finally share my fic for the @obiwanwhumpminibang with you:

The ground between unstoppable force and immovable object

Summary:

After a retreat ending in evacuation, Cody and General Kenobi stay behind with the remaining troopers to wait for the returning transport. It’s a risk, but Kenobi’s presence guarantees that the transport will return for them, and the droids don’t know they are there. They just have to sit still and wait. Then, in the interest of full disclosure, Kenobi very apologetically reveals an injury he deliberately kept to himself until the last transport was gone and Cody is confronted with the fact that he and his General might have very different interpretations of what counts as an acceptable risk, at least where it pertains to Kenobi’s life.

My artist was the wonderful @habquchdu, whose art is both embedded in the fic and can be found here on Tumblr.

A huge thank you to @ihathbenobiwankenobied and @hellotemporaryuniverse for organising this event!

I've loved and (and occassionally hated) writing this fic, which clocks in at 14k of gen Obi-Wan whump, and hope you will enjoy reading it!

And, in the interest of full disclosure, I have vague plans to write an angsty post-Hardeen Codywan sequel. And maybe another, Kenobi-era one. There might or might not already be a small file for the post-Hardeen angst.

[lamaenthel]

Solitary Confinement

[read on ao3][Febuwhump prompt: Solitary Confinement]

After being captured alongside General Kenobi by the Seppies, Cody holds out hope that rescue will arrive in time.

Characters: CC-2224|Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano Word count: 1575

The cell is damp and near-freezing. With Cody's vision robbed by whatever contraption they'd bolted over his eyes, his other senses have sharpened. He has to be careful not to breathe with his mouth open. The smell of rot and open sewage had him gagging when they first dragged him into the stronghold. He's gotten used to it. Mostly. It's only gotten stronger in the last few days.

Soft tapping from the other side of the room is the only point of contact he has with General Kenobi.

"Take heart, Cody. The beacon was launched before we were captured. I don't expect we'll be here long." General Kenobi gives him one last encouraging smile from the floor, his wrists chained above his head, before the clankers bring out the drill and start attaching the metal blinder to his temples. "This should be entertaining at least, my dear."

Their chains give them just enough leeway to stand, though if they do it more than a few times an hour they're shocked into unconsciousness. It happens if they speak, too, which seems idiotic as the Seppies would have a better chance of overhearing something than extracting it. He marks the days by torture sessions; by his best estimate, there's a full rotation between visits. The chains hum and go warm with promised electricity. The door opens and one of them is dragged out of their cell for uncountable minutes to be interrogated.

Cody much prefers being strapped down to the table over his General. At least he knows what's going on when a droid asks him for GAR secrets in a monotone buzz, right before the needles go into his neck and what feels like acid fills his veins. Its agony, but they'd started training him to withstand torture at five. At least when they're torturing him he can breathe.

The waiting is the worst. Those dreadful seconds when metal footsteps approach them and he doesn't know who they'll choose are worse than anything they can inject him with. General Kenobi has no such training, just his strength of will, and while it's indomitable, Cody knows it will give out eventually.

Maybe that's why they haven't taken him for three days. Kenobi taps on his chains every few minutes so Cody knows he's still alive, but he can't hear the reassuring sound of his Jedi breathing over his heart's own drumbeat pounding in his ears. There's nothing else to hear in the gluttonous, bloated silence.

He's dehydrated. Water wasn't provided—deemed unnecessary when every day the droids held his head under a steady stream of it until he passed out—but they haven't been fed since they arrived. Not food, anyway, just leathery balls of surprisingly sweet jelly during their torture sessions. They get angry when he chews them, so he keeps doing it, figuring it's the right call. His stomach cramps violently, squeezing acid up into his throat and eroding delicate tissue. His body is starting to cannibalize itself. Every torture session leaves him weaker, but it doesn't matter. He will survive, force his heart to keep pumping blood even when every other bit of him wastes away, because that's what he was made for. He's a Marshall Commander to a High General, not some wet-behind-his-ears shiny who's never known a night without Kamino's thunder. He knows how to withstand any torture, no matter how brutal.

Kenobi taps again. Cody taps back. It's all they can manage. It's enough to keep going.

Take heart, Cody.

He will. He'll let them rip him up from the inside out if that's what it takes, but he will not lose hope. Not if his General still needs him.

He feels the hum of electricity in his teeth right before his chains warm and come alive again. He steels himself. Any moment the door will open. They'll drag him off again to ask the same questions that he won't answer, flay him like a nerf left to rot in the sun, then throw him back in his cell once they deem it to be another wasted day.

The door doesn't open. Instead, the chains go cold. Cody frowns; that's never happened before. The floor vibrates, and he's thrown violently to the side with the force of an explosion somewhere below them. The rushing roar of blood in his ears intensifies. "General Kenobi?" he whispers, taking a chance that their captors are occupied with whatever the hell that was. He can't speak properly anyway. Between the screaming and the stomach acid, his voice is virtually gone. "Can you hear me, General?"

Kenobi taps again, unwilling to risk it. Cody accidentally sucks a deep breath in, gagging from the stench of rot. It's all he can do to not vomit, even though he doesn't have anything to bring up except acid. He ignores the burning in his throat. DC-17 carbine fire echos through the vents, a song as reassuring as a mother's lullaby to a clone trooper. "They're here, General," he says, adrenaline jumpstarting his weak heart. "We did it." We survived.

Kenobi taps again.

Waiting for his brothers to find them is more painful than anything their captors have put him through. He can hear boots thumping, blaster fire getting closer, the hum of a swinging lightsaber. He twitches in his chains, weak muscles begging to join the fight. Who came, the 212th? Undoubtedly they'd come in some capacity, but he would hazard a guess that there's a fair amount of blue mixed in the golden orange. Skywalker never was one to sit on his hands and wait patiently where General Kenobi was concerned.

"Just hang on, General. They're almost here." Cody licks lips that taste like sour old iron. First thing he's going to do after seeing to his General and getting debriefed is grab the bottle of tihaar he confiscated from Wooley. There aren't many perks of being in command, but if he had to make a list then sampling the contraband for “safety reasons” would definitely be near the top.

The blaster fire gets closer, along with the subsonic buzz of a lit saber. Cody fidgets in his cross-legged sit, his legs on fire and cramped from being bent for days, barely able to contain himself. The door beeps and slides open. Cold air that smells like corpses is sucked into the room, shocking him. He hears a single, sharp inhale, high-pitched and young. "Cody?" a trembling voice asks after a few pregnant seconds.

"Commander Tano," Cody rasps. The words scrape his throat like rusty sheet metal.

The sound of her footsteps scuff across the floor. "Oh, Force, what is this?" She touches the metal band that the droids had bolted into his skull. He jerks in his chains as a lightning bolt of sharp pain zaps through his temples, accidentally smacking his head against the wall as he does. "It's okay. Don't move, everything is going to be fine." Her commlink beeps. "Rex, cell 117. I found them. I need a medic here, now." Her voice shakes. “E-Everything is going to be okay.”

"General?" Cody tries to clear his throat, tastes blood instead. "It's alright, General, we can talk now. The chains are turned off."

Kenobi taps.

"Don't… don't let Anakin up here." Cody's blood freezes. A soft, trembling hand runs across his brow, mindful of the bolts this time. "We tracked the beacon." Her voice cracks. "We came… we came as fast as we could."

Cody leans into her soft touch, for her comfort as much as his. She's always been so sensitive. "I'm alright, Commander. Go check on General Kenobi."

He hears a humming fwoom. She cuts his chains with her lightsaber, rubbing his bloodless hands briskly like he'd been out in the cold once they're free. "It's going to be okay, Cody," she says again. She's crying.

"General, please say something," Cody says hoarsely. The stench of rotten flesh is so overpowering that he can taste it. "Obi-Wan?" Why hasn't he said anything? Why hasn't he greeted Ahsoka? When did the tapping stop?

The tapping resumes; relief floods his system. "Get off of him!" Her lightsaber ignites, swings, and a wet chitinous thump follows a moment later. "I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispers it over and over again until the words slur together.

Cody reaches up to the metal blinder and starts turning the bolts that keep it attached to his skull with numb fingers. The screws take forever to twist out of his swollen, infected skin, but he doesn't stop even when Ahsoka grabs his wrists and begs him to. He shoves the sobbing girl away and rips the blinder off with an agonizing scream.

It takes a few seconds for his vision to adjust. Even in the near pitch-black his eyes hurt. General Kenobi sits cross-legged exactly where Cody had seen him last. He's still chained to the wall, mottled hands cuffed above his hanging head. A pile of something shiny and wet glistens in his lap.

Cody creeps closer on his hands and knees, unable to trust his weak eyes. His hands slip in the slick blackness that covers that side of the room. The smell of rot and sewage is almost unbearable. Cody reaches out a quivering hand, confirms with a touch what his eyes refuse to see.

The bisected insect that's been eating its way through the General's guts taps weakly on the floor one last time before finally dying with a hiss.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump , @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

[131-vr]

Cody needs a break from babysitting his general.

WTF, why did he kicked Grievous??

[cmmdrkote]

codywan reverse bang team #13: i should tell him i love him

The words fell away as Obi-Wan raised his head. He had been expecting another visit from Cetius only to find his Commander standing in the doorway. He blinked a few times, fearing he was merely hallucinating. “Cody?” “General.” The Commander stared for a moment, trying to think of what to say. I’m glad I found you in time. I’m glad you’re alive. I missed you. I was worried about you. I think I love you. “Did you need a rescue?” “Do you know, Commander?” Obi-Wan tried for a smile and a laugh that turned into a groan as his broken ribs made themselves known. “I just think I might.”

So, I'm unfortunately late (life and death happened) but here is 2/3 of my piece for CWRB '23! Obi-Wan has gotten himself into a situation, and Cody is annoyed and using that to cover up how worried he is.

i would like to thank the mods of @codywanreversebang Serie and Anon for their endless patience, my friends for getting me through a difficult time, and of course my amazing writers Kay @foreverchangingfandomsao3 and Mia who have written a fantastic story for this prompt that you can read here.

I'll see you all soon for Part 3....a Keldabe kiss is imminent 👀 Notes and close-ups sans shadows under the cut:

A consistent light source? Who? I've never heard of her in my entire life.

I swear I didn't mean for there to be Christ-like undertones (I'm not even Christian) but once I had Obi's pose laid out and the light focused on him, I was like "fuck I gotta commit to the space Jesus now".

I originally intended for this to have a much more cartoony style, but the shading on Cody's face got away from me and then I needed to match that level of realism for his whole body, which drastically increased the time taken and I had to scrap all my plans for Obi.

The pose/prompt and Obi's outfit are inspired by Crossfire by Brandon Flowers, a whumper's dream of a music video and also a bop. I had sketched something out about two years ago and ended up adapting it for this idea.

Obi is wearing suspenders and a dress shirt because 1. I hate drawing clothing and knew robes would suck 2. Brandon is wearing that outfit in the video which made an easier reference 3. Suspenders are hot 4. I needed to show the hairy chest

Clip Studio Paint can eat my ass, I'm never upgrading to their bs subscription model.

Ewan and Temuera are some of the most handsome men I've seen in my entire life and no I will not be taking questions.

Here are some close-ups because I want to show off what I did before covering it up with dramatic ass shadows:

[ihathbenobiwankenobied]

The comforts that make us feel numb

Summary: A grunt, a metallic clang, boots stomping not scuffing, the click of– Blasterfire rang out, the shots echoing through the wind before Obi-Wan could grasp the fact that it had come from behind him. Then there was pain. (Or, Cody and an injured Obi-Wan are stranded on Raxus. In an effort to keep his general alive, Cody drags him through the forest.)

Excited to present my fic for the @obiwanwhumpminibang in collaboration with @cj-kenobi's incredibly beautiful art piece below!

Lastly, I have had the pleasure of organizing and moderating this event alongside of @hellotemporaryuniverse. A huge thank you to all who participated this year!