#I imagine it is CodyWan though it is not mentioned in this

[fanfic-obsessed]

Well...That Esclated Quickly

Here is another idea that came to me during my walk to work.  I want you to know, though it goes in a humorous direction it really is not a full fix-it. 

When Order 66 went live, some of the chips did not activate. There is no rhyme nor reason as to which chips activate and which did not. Not a huge amount compared to the whole, but some. Enough that a few hundred Jedi and a Few thousand Clones regroup in the aftermath. 

While you can fill in most of the blanks the following are included in my idea

Obi Wan Kenobi and a company’s worth of 212th clones, including Cody: Obi Wan was still shot off the cliff, to the horrified eyes of the still free clones. The still free clones don't have enough numbers to take on their brethren who appear to have gone insane, but do have enough to steal one of the midsized transport ships, one capable of hyperspace flight.  They reluctantly allow Obi Wan to go to Coruscant on his own, with the rationale that one person can sneak to the surface much easier than a whole company, while the clones establish a regroup point.  From there Obi Wan goes on the Mustafar, which ends as it did in canon. Obi Wan brings Padme to the transport ship where she still dies of complications of her pregnancy

Fox, Hound, a dozen other members of the CG, and the Younglings: Fox and the few members of the CG that were unaffected by O66 raced to beat the 501st to the Temple. They made it just a few minutes before their enslaved brothers. Just barely in time to evacuate the children in the creche with the help (and insistent sacrifice) of the adult Jedi.  While there were a few Creche Masters evacuated with the children, it was now basically just Fox and his CG functionally in charge of baby Jedi ranging from Babies to Pre teens. They connect with remains of the 212th before the events of Mustafar. 

Yoda, who did still have to kill his commander in order to escape, but was able to bring a few clones with him.  They still end up being collected by Bail Organa.

Ahsoka, Rex, Jesse and  a portion of the maintenance team for their battalion: They do not meet up with the rest for quite some time (at least three years). Rex’s chip did activate but he was able to get Ahsoka the message about Fives. After Rex is freed they find Jesse and the other free clones (soft shells all) looking on in horror at their controlled brethren. With the help of the maintenance team they are able to escape from the ship without freeing Maul or crashing into the moon.  By the time they are able to look past the immediate situation, the Temple is already burning and it has been announced that the Jedi are traitors. These 25 or so go to ground in Mandalorian space and try to figure out how to free the clones from the chips (beyond surgery which really does not work with the numbers they have to deal with). They do not realize anyone else has survived. 

Aayla survived, due to one of the clones (not Bly) pushing her out of the way and sacrificing his life for her. Bly’s chip does work. She escapes with two dozen free clones and six chipped clones tied up in the back (Including Bly, even the clones agree they cannot save everyone and hopefully it means that they can figure out what is going wrong).

Shaak Ti, 10 Veteran clones, 40 ‘Shinies’, 300 child and teenage cadets, three junior Kaminoan Scientists (not Nala Se) none of which knew about the chip or Order 66, and Omega.  Shaak Ti had been working with a few Kaminoan Scientists to see the clones as sentients in their own right and the reactions of the clones under the chip's control horrified a few of those scientists.  Between them and Omega, who had been paying attention and used this as a chance to escape the lab (the Bad Batch being off planet at the time) they were able to evacuate anyone not under the control of the chip. 

All of these people (Barring Ahsoka and Co) converge on the ship that had been stolen by the free 212th clones. Had less children survived (about a third of the living Jedi are children under the age of 11, plus the cadets) they all would likely have split into small groups and made their own way through the galaxy. But there was just no way to break into small enough groups to be safe AND still make sure the children (and to some extent the Shinies) were taken care of.  They were also too large a group to go anywhere in the Republic, or even anywhere in Mandalorian space (There were an awful lot of uninhabited planets in the galaxy but most were uninhabited for a reason). Thus there was only one thing they could do.

Take over the Hutt Empire.

To be fair the take over part did start out accidentally. The actual goal was to find a place to lay low in the Hutt Empire, possibly the only place Palpatine’s Empire could not reach quite yet(at least until Palpatine solidified his rule). 

So they found a planet within the Hutt Empire to lay low on, While Bail Organa left to begin planting the seeds for the rebellion (No Leia as the twins were not being split up). As much as I want it to be Tattoine, it just has too small a population to not have a couple of thousand people (Most of whom hide their very distinctive faces) showing not be noticeable. So they choose a planet with a higher population. 

This is where the trouble began. All of our adults are deeply traumatized, trained warriors who are not used to sitting by, universally feeling useless. They are facing an insurmountable task, still mostly directionless, and deeply angry at life.  

It starts with the local Hutt’s minions trying to shake down some newcomers, who were not looking for a target to vent their spleen but found one just the same. It does not end well for the minions. Nor the next six attempts, with different groups of Clones and Jedi each time.  No one has told Command yet, but they look at each other and ‘shit we can’t keep drawing attention to ourselves but we can’t leave either’

The solution (Commander Cody himself would like to reiterate this was not the correct solution)? Take out the Hutt. Then they realize that taking out the Hutt has just drawn more attention to this city as the other Hutts for the planet try to figure out who took out this one.

The next Solution? Take out the rest of the Hutts on the planet. 

They have now drawn even more attention to the planet from yet more Hutts. This is the one thing that is critical they do not have. 

The next Solution? Try three to make this plan work (Commander Cody reminds you that trying the same thing over and over again, hoping for different results, is the definition of insanity) and take out the Hutts looking for answers. 

By the time that these small groups have admitted to Command (Obi Wan, Cody, Yoda, Shaak Ti, Fox) what is going on, a few months later, they have accidentally taken over the Hutt Empire.

The Hutt Empire that is still nominally allied with Palpatine’s Empire. The Hutt Empire that has to stay allied to Palpatine’s Empire if they do not want to draw the attention of the entire Imperial Forces to the largest concentration of living Jedi and free Clones in the galaxy.  The Hutt Empire that no longer has any active Hutts. 

In this the human centric leaning of Palpatine’s Empire is actually helpful.  They very rarely wanted to deal with other species, so it was easy to appoint someone unknown but human to deal with the com calls and visits. It does mean that they have to make up a Hutt that they essentially have to play ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’ with, a couple of times a year when a representative insists on meeting with the Hutt in charge. 

Also the fact that Palpatine’s Empire is more interested in enslaving their own citizens for free as opposed to buying them from the Hutts means that they can shut down the slave trade within Hutt Space (over time).  Fox both loves and hates running a criminal empire. 

It should be noted that, even with Bly and the five other chipped clones, no one actually knows what is going on until Rex and Co find their way back to them.  We are going with the thought that a level 5 atomic scan is a ludicrously high level of scanning. Like sitting on a Nuclear Reactor to get an X-Ray kind of ludicrous, so not only does no one think to do that level of scanning to see what is wrong, but they do not even have that kind of equipment readily available.  The reports about Fives from Rex never made it to any kind of centralized repository, there is no way to know why most clones suddenly started to kill Jedi. Bly and Co spend the three years before Rex shows up in a makeshift brig, they can function almost normally until a Jedi is brought up or in the room with them. 

Bail laughs his ass off when he is told, through several intermediaries and coded messages, that the Jedi and the Clones accidentally took over a criminal empire.  Then he starts funneling the Path and the people his rebellion are rescuing into Hutt Space to find the Jedi. 

Three years in Rex, Ahsoka, the clones with them (now having grown to nearly another thousand) arrive with the news that they can disable the chips from a distance of about a large cruiser. 

That is how the Hutt Empire became freedom fighters.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars au #obi wan kenobi #fanfiction prompt #anakin skywalker #bamf obi wan #I imagine it is CodyWan though it is not mentioned in this #commander cody #commander fox #Hutts #Accidental Empire #order 66 happened differently

[laurenmm62017]

Codywan Week Day 7!

Happy last day of Codywan Week, though I know many people are taking advantage of the extension, and I look forward to it!

Prompt: Domestic

Summary: Cody never really expected to be dating his father’s high school rival’s daughter’s ex-boyfriend, but life rarely turns out the way you think.

@codywanweek

A bit of a strange story, really. Within his father’s high school, there were the theater/music kids, and there were the jocks. His dad, Jango Fett, was both an outfielder for the baseball team, and also one of the leads in every production done by the theater every year. Adonai Kryze was also on both the baseball team and rival in the theater. Every season they would challenge and fight each other for the first string position, or the lead in some musical like Les Miserables.

They both graduated and moved on with their lives. Adonai had several children then moved up north. Jango married his high school sweetheart, opened a mechanics shop, and had Cody and a crap ton of sons.

Cody grew up as the eldest brother to 7 younger siblings, and went to the same high school that his dad went to. When he graduated high school, he enrolled in the local university with no clue as to what he wanted to do. He tried art, mechanics, creative writing, math, even psychology, but he still couldn’t settle on anything. Nothing felt right.

His sophomore year started. He tried his best to be a good older brother, a good son, a good student. It all became too much one day, and he took one of his dad’s cars and just… drove.

He ended up at the library, for some reason. Just walked in, found a random book off the shelf, sat down near the computers, and started reading.

He was a quarter of the way through his book when he sensed someone looking at him. He looked up and looked around, searching for his observer.

Cody then locked eyes with a kind-eyed, ginger haired, bearded man seated at a table on the other side of the room. He tilted his head, wondering why he was staring as the man stood up and walked right up to him.

“Hello there. I know that you’re reading very broodily, but would you like a bit of company?”

That was the day that he met Obi-wan Kenobi, a Master’s student at his university, brother and caretaker of two rambunctious teenagers, and the love of his life.

They exchanged phone numbers and regularly met up for coffee or lunch between their classes, despite Obi-wan’s busy schedule.

As the years went on, Cody and Obi-wan grew closer and closer. Obi-wan had met most of his family, except Fox and Wolffe, who were off at college across the country. Cody had stayed the night at Obi-wan’s apartment multiple times, mostly because he lived alone and actually had privacy.

One day, they were at their favorite coffee shop, after not seeing each other in a few days, due to school (ugh), when out of nowhere, a slim, blonde woman in a purple blouse and a skirt walked up to them and said, “Obi-wan Kenobi? Is that you?”

“Satine! It’s been so long!” Obi-wan was out of his seat and smiling brightly at her. “How have you been?”

“Oh, just fine. I’m visiting my grandparents with my father for a few days. And yourself?”

“I’m doing fantastic.” Obi-wan smiled, then turned his attention to Cody, who had been awkwardly sitting there during this exchange. “Speaking of fantastic. This is Cody Fett, my boyfriend.”

Satine’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of his name. Cody’s own eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did she know him somehow?

“Cody, my dear, this is Satine Kryze, a dear friend of mine from high school.”

Ah, Kryze. Now he recognized the name. His dad never shut up about “back in his day” and Adonai Kryze.

“We used to be very close, and then you moved down here for university.” She said, shooting a look at Cody. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Obi-wan. Perhaps we can meet up again before I leave.”

“That sounds like a plan, Satine.” Obi-wan smiled. She smiled lightly back, and then took her coffee cup from where the barista had just placed it on the counter and left the shop.

They didn’t mention the encounter until they got back to Obi-wan’s apartment, and Cody started to get dinner ready while Obi-wan put some finishing touches on a presentation. They exist in comfortable silence for a bit, just listening to the chop-chop-chop of the knife Cody was using to prepare vegetables for a stir-fry. He turned the stove on, placed a pan on the burner, and heated some oil. He heard Obi-wan close his laptop and stand from the table, stretch a bit and head to the bedroom to clean up for dinner.

By the time Obi-wan came back, Cody had already plated the stir-fry and was scooping a bit of rice onto each plate. He walked both plates over and placed one in front of Obi-wan, and one where he usually sat while Obi-wan grabbed forks for them both.

They eat in silence for a bit, enjoying what Cody made, then Cody blurted out, “I didn’t know you dated Adonai Kryze’s daughter.”

“Ah, well, it was a long time ago. Why, do you know her?”

“Not really, but her father and my dad were bitter high school rivals.” Cody snickered, as Obi-wan gaped at him. “Yeah, they really hated each other’s guts. Always competing against each other, almost got into a brawl on the last day of senior year, were it not for my mom stepping in.”

“Fascinating.” Obi-wan breathed.

“Never imagined I’d be dating my father’s high school rival’s daughter’s ex-boyfriend, but life is full of surprises, huh?” Cody smiled, reaching across the table with an outstretched palm.

Obi-wan placed a hand on Cody’s and returned the smile.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my dear.”

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #codywan #my writing #alternate universe

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 5: Fluff of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Multi Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Background Padmé Amidala/CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Implied/Referenced Future Rexsoka, GFY

For best results please look at this Rex and this Cody before reading.

“tribute”

Another one of the local little chompers marched towards the dais with all the solemnity and determination of a verd’ika plucking their first set of whites off the assembly line. Cody met Rex’s eye and they both very carefully avoided grinning at the sight. Not only could it be bad for their relationship with said locals, it wouldn’t do to let their Jedi think they were, in fact, having a good time up there.

When the kid came to a halt a ‘respectful’ distance away, Cody nodded for them to approach and bent his head to receive the kid’s blessing and subsequent gift. He watched Rex do the same.

The celebration had been going for hours, by that point, and they’d amassed a pile of shiny little wearable trinkets to give any sovereign of Naboo a run for their credits and enough blessings to make them holier than most deities. It’d been a relief, at the start of the night, to hear that—aside from the ceremonial outfits they’d been bullied into wearing—he and Rex were free to redistribute the gifts as they saw fit. Something about sharing luck, or good vibes, or what have you.

Said ceremonial outfits, on the other hand, they were obliged to keep and maintain with honor.

Obi-Wan had smoothed over any offense they’d given with their lacklustre reaction to the news but Rex’s general had been less than subtle in his delight at their new possessions. Tano, at least, had just told them they looked nice and kept her own mocking to a bare minimum.

And it wasn’t that they were grateful, Cody had reflected at the start of the celebration, when he and Rex had stepped out under the light of the moons to deafening cheers, but. It wasn’t quite their style, no matter how well the two of them pulled off the intricate, and admittedly beautiful, get-ups.

Rex, by dint of his Torrent paintjob, had been immediately deemed the locals’ Goddess of War come again and draped accordingly in layers of blue fabric. Some of it was dark and blaster-resistant and some of it pale and so sheer as to be almost nonexistent. Bands of silver, often studded with precious blue stones, were wrapped around his wrists, forearms, biceps, and throat, and a silver cap affixed with yet more jewels and a pale blue veil had been placed on his head with much reverence.

After a great deal of muttered debate, they determined that Cody must be their war deity’s twin, the Goddess of Beauty. Not an insult by any means…

The traditional garb he’d been presented with, by contrast, was deep red with a long flowing cape and headdress of heavy twisted fabric. It came with its own set of jewelry, as well, shining gold and polished red stones, bulky and eye-catching around his wrists and throat and slim and delicate around his forearms and biceps. Something about the placement was culturally significant, but hells if Cody was going to ask what.

They’d already lost the battle against: 1) staying for several days to rest and recuperate, 2) accepting the titles of living incarnations of their local deities and all the celebration that entailed, and 3) keeping both the get-ups and the gifts for themselves.

No way was Cody going to invite more conversation about their cultural practices. He could win against droids and bounty-hunters and half-baked Sith, but apparently, he couldn’t convince a bunch of over-awed, Mid Rim locals that he and Rex weren’t tools of War and Beauty.

Tools of the Republic, sure, but nothing divine.

The leader of the city they’d liberated had just smiled gently and reassured them that belief on their part was not necessary, only acceptance of their gratitude. Which came with lots of shiny metal, sparkly rocks, and a pair of gowns that they had to either accept or throw into a sacrificial fire and publicly reject.

Obi-Wan had stepped in at that point.

He’d assured everyone that they had no interest in disrespecting their culture and asked for a debrief about the ceremony.

Wear the outfits, sit on the thrones, and let people fawn over them at least a little bit, had basically been the long and short of it. But, hey, they were comfortably cushioned, well-fed, and kept hydrated throughout the whole thing, so it could have been worse. Sharp-toothed little ankle-biters shyly kissing their foreheads and handing them shiny bits and bobs before scampering off weren’t much of a hardship.

“How’re you fellas doing?” Skywalker asked, strolling up to the dais with a grin that had yet to falter all night. “Getting into the spirit of the thing? Really feeling the divinity flow through you?”

Plenty vode had wandered over to check on them over the course of the night, mostly to heckle, but the Jedi had visited just as frequently. And for similar reasons, too.

The way Rex’s general had been eyeing him all night, Cody was almost worried for Rex’s safety. He’d heard plenty of complaints from Obi-Wan about Skywalker’s willingness to eat damn near anything; who was to say that he hadn’t acquired a taste for Mandalorian-adjacent flesh and wouldn’t gobble poor Rex up in just a few bites.

He was pretty sure Commander Tano was having some kind of intermittent crisis over at their table as well.

It was his responsibility, as both Marshal Commander and ori’vod, to bring his concerns to his superior officer and then ruthlessly mock all three of them. After Skywalker eventually got tired of making Rex blush and wandered away whistling a jaunty tune to a very raunchy cantina song, that was.

“So does that ‘angel’ of his know the two of you have started sharing blankets since your last stop-over on Coruscant or should I start planning your funeral now?” Cody said archly, watching his vod’ika visibly consider punching him. “I’ll be sure to wear this and lie about how smart and good-looking you are, like a proper vod.”

Rex pressed a hand over his eyes and groaned. “Angel knows,” he admitted, darting an unsubtle glance at his general’s shebs. “What I am afraid of, though, is that next time we stop over on Coruscant she’s gonna have a whole new wardrobe just like this one and it will just happen to be in my size.”

“Well, hey, get a full-coverage veil and you’re probably good to step out with them,” Cody said with false sympathy, gleefully imagining the uproar that would cause. “Just make sure they’re made out of that fabric that’s designed to ruin holos. Pakod.”

The ol’ boy made a sound like a malfunctioning mouse-droid.

“Is it too much to believe that I’d like to spend whatever leave I get wearing as few clothes as possible?” he wailed, quietly, with a desperation that made Cody think this was an argument he and the senator had gotten into before. With this revelation in mind, he snapped a few holos of his own while Rex was distracted and vowed to get them to the senator if Skywalker’s brain cell was too lonely to manage it. “Isn’t it enough that I have this already?”

“Oh, dear me,” a low voice said from behind Cody’s left ear, “I can’t imagine how terrible it must be to have two attractive, attentive lovers who wish to shower you with tokens of their affection. Truly, Captain, your misery must be exquisite.”

Cody turned his head to press a sloppy kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek in gratitude for the pitiful sound his words had drawn out of his favorite brother.

“General,” Rex whined pathetically, “they keep getting me plants. Alive ones, dead ones, prickly ones, poisonous ones. My quarters are being taken over by non-sentient invaders.”

Obi-Wan made a little noise of patently fake sympathy. “My old master’s quarters were like that as well,” he commiserated, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind Cody’s ear. The noise of the locals around them changed in pitch, but Cody’d had enough to drink over the course of the evening to not feel worried by the change. If he was lucky, Obi-Wan would be shoved into a pretty outfit like this next. “It drove me mad that he never formally answered, let alone turned down, any of the suits. Just let the poor, smitten beings keep sending him gifts. So uncivilized.”

“Speaking of uncivilized,” Cody said, wondering if he could get away with pulling Obi-Wan down onto his lap.

Rex rolled his eyes. “If I don’t get to canoodle in public with my Jedi then you don’t get to with yours,” he huffed, leaning over to push Obi-Wan a few inches away. “Leave room for the Force, sirs.”

“‘Leave room for the Force’?” Obi-Wan repeated, nonplussed, while Cody found himself hung up on, “Canoodle?”

No longer quite so flustered, Rex shrugged. “Skywalker talks like a scandalized opera singer, sometimes, and Ahsoka says that when she catches the lads giving each other a tune-up. How’s the kid doing, by the way?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said ruefully, “she’s seventeen and in the middle of a war and puberty. Thus far, I believe she’s coped by placing you all in the ‘dear friends and family whom deserve her utmost respect’ category of her mind, rather than allowing herself to see you as attractive young men. Tonight seems to be causing some kind of breakdown in that line of thinking.”

Cody turned to give Rex his full attention and clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheers, vod’ika, keep it up and you might have a full set soon!”

In response, Rex covered his face with both hands and groaned again.

“Remind me to send the good captain some appropriate literature about age of consent laws, would you, dear?” Obi-Wan murmured into his ear. He most assuredly was not leaving room for the Force between them. “Until then, I believe you mentioned being uncivilized?”

Cody made a mental note to remind him as requested before standing up, bowing at the local assembly, and following Obi-Wan wherever he led.

#star wars #the clone wars #sw fic #by apples #codywanweek2020 #codywanweek #commander cody #captain rex #Obi-Wan Kenobi #anakin skywalker #padmé/rex/anakin #rexsoka #codywan #skyberrex #vod in a dress

[innocent-until-proven-geeky]

for the character thing; cody, obi wan, and ur oc pova (is that how you spell it?)

YEAHYEAHYEAH (also that is how you spell it) I see we’re doing the whole family and I LOVE it.

I was in the middle of answering this and then I went to find my favorite episodes and Tumblr ate whatever I was working on sooooo I start over.

Cody

Why I like them: Sass. Fandom’s interpretation as Ultimate Big Brother (behind Alpha-17, of course). Mysterious scar. And he’s pretty.

Why I don’t: Honestly? The fact that the clones are slave soldiers, and the fact that fandom tends to give racially biased interpretations of the clones (I’m guilty of this too). Nothing to do with Cody himself, honestly, which isn’t to say he’s perfect or anything, I find him to be rough around the edges but who wouldn’t be in his shoes?

Favorite episode: s1e16 The Hidden Enemy. This one is probably on my top 5 list even without Cody. But guys. GUYS. “Hey there, Slick. Gun’s empty.” WHAT COULD BE MORE ICONIC?

Favorite film: Okay technically these questions were “episode/scene if a movie” and “season/movie” but because he’s in both I’m gonna have to go with a film for this one. Revenge of the Sith. Listen, I can’t watch ROTS without crying but damn if I don’t love Cody in it anyway. The lightsaber scene will ALWAYS get me. (Season 1 gets an honorable mention.)

Favorite line: Uh. Well. Okay so. “Hey there, Slick. Gun’s empty.” *holds up mag* LISTEN GUYS I LOVE THAT ONE. Although he also gets points for “I’m putting you in charge of this one.” I don’t know if season 1 just has a lot of iconic Cody lines, or if it’s because I’ve been watching that season in Spanish lately.

Favorite outfit: ... his armor? No actually though, I love his Phase II armor. Phase I is cool but Phase II has the cool ventilators. And how can I not make fun of his antenna?

OTP: Codywan. Ideally in a post-war fix-it or semi-fix-it where there isn’t a huge power imbalance, but I’ve been known to read Codywan stuff that takes place during the war, especially before I was as cognizant of the power imbalance as I am now.

BroTP: Cody and Rex. I’m sure y’all saw that one coming. I mean it’s CODY and REX, I’m pretty sure that’s everyone’s BroTP!

Headcanon: So this might be a good time to mention that I headcanon everyone everywhere as autistic. Everyone is autistic. Cody is autistic. Okay actually though, I headcanon that Cody has a great deal of anxiety. He handles it well, and he has a support system, but given his entire life, and the fact that he’s a Marshal Commander, and further more the headcanon we collectively have that Obi-Wan insists on promoting Cody to get out of paperwork because Cody deserves it, he’s probably anxious. And man, same.

Unpopular opinion: Do I have one? Tbh I don’t know how to determine whether an opinion about a character is unpopular. How do we define unpopular? Do we mean just like, not commonly known or shared? Because if so, I once again raise for your consideration: everyone is autistic, therefore Cody is autistic.

A wish: For Disney to retcon Order 66. Barring that, for the Bad Batch show to give him a happy ending involving the removal of his chip and the opportunity to live happily ever after with Obi-Wan on Tatooine. (Is the Bad Batch show going to be live-action like Kenobi? Because PLEASE give me Temuera Morrison playing Cody in both.)

An oh-gosh-please-don’t-ever-happen: Don’t laugh. Order 66. Listen I KNOW it’s canon but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!

5 words to best describe them: Salty. Snarky. Protective. Competent. Thoughtful.

My nickname for them: honestly, just Codes or Kote. Not much to get out of Cody, really.

Obi-Wan:

Why I like them: HE’S PRETTY. And sassy. There’s a pattern here.

Why I don’t: I don’t think there’s ever a time in canon that he acknowledges all the issues with the clones’ existence. He does in fanon, which I can appreciate, but canonically he’s like, “ah yes, we bought 3.2 million humans. We’ll just stick them in this war I guess.” Also frankly he’s a bit oblivious, bordering on daft, especially considering he’s the Negotiator, I mean he KEPT HIS LAST NAME when he went into hiding. I still love him though.

Favorite scene: That deleted “good girl, Boga” scene, which just hits different when you’ve read Master & Apprentice and know how much he loves varactyls. I don’t care that it’s deleted. It’s my favorite. (Plus you’ll probably like this better than my favorite episode, which is the Kadavo episode.)

Favorite film: Attack of the Clones. Listen listen listen, he has a lot of good moments in TCW, but hands down it’s AOTC.

Favorite line: Eheheheheheh. Eheheheheheheh. Eheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh. “Hello there!”

Favorite outfit: Was gonna make a comment about Jedi robes but then I remembered his stolen Mandalorian armor in The Lawless and *swoons* that’s one pretty outfit.

OTP: ... also Codywan. Again, ideally in an AU with less of a power imbalance, I mean it doesn’t matter how much he promotes Cody, canonically he’s still a Jedi and Cody is still a slave and I just don’t love that but I live for Codywan. Domestic Codywan? *chef’s kiss*

BroTP: probably Obi-Wan and Anakin. Maybe Obi and Padmé? Idk I have Thoughts about Anakin, he’s a problem child, but not much can top the agony in “You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!” (I like whump, okay?) Also just. Can you imagine the Negotiator just being buds with Senator Amidala? Helping each other with domestic disputes and speeches? Working on a Clone Rights Bill? Yeah. Can it be a broT3? What if we just don’t have Anakin and Padmé dating? It’s such an unhealthy relationship. That’s it, broT3 is Anakin, Padmé, and Obi-Wan.

Headcanon: ACE!OBI ACE!OBI ACE!OBI!!!!!! Also,,, autistic!Obi. I know I know, but actually genuinely @fromryloth-tocorellia has some pretty good autistic!Obi-Wan stuff, including Obi-Wan being semi-verbal, low-verbal, and non-verbal. Autistic characters is a hill I will die on, and Obi-Wan is a character I happen to enjoy projecting on (oops). Plus, if I headcanon Cody and Obi-Wan as autistic, then the entire Ibonek family is autistic, and I love that.

Unpopular opinion: The only reason Obi-Wan “left Anakin to die” was because there was nothing he could safely do to help. When I was taking first aid classes, one of the first things they told us was that, unless there is no danger to yourself, you do not help. You wait for actual first responders to show up. If Obi-Wan had tried to help Anakin, either Anakin would have killed him or Obi-Wan would also have been severely burned. And if he had stayed, he may have been caught by Palpatine. Is it sad that he left? Absolutely. Heartbreaking. I don’t think it was a GOOD decision. But he didn’t just leave him to die; there was no other safe option. There were no good decisions here. I have a lot of thoughts about this, I have half-written essays on Discord about it, feel free to ask further questions.

A wish: For Qui-Gon’s dying words to be retconned. I know I wrote that post about how his dying words were full of trust in Obi-Wan and I stand by that, but that doesn’t mean Obi-Wan realized that, or that they were a good choice.

An oh-gosh-please-don’t-ever-happen: For the Kenobi show to be sad. It’s not allowed. Obi-Wan can have one fight, and that’s it, he is happy as a clam on Tatooine because he DESERVES GOODNESS DAMNIT.

5 words to best describe them: Kind. Soft. Warm. Compassionate. Daft.

My nickname for them: Obi

Pova:

What I like about them: They’re my OC and I can do whatever I want with them!

What I don’t: They’re my OC and I’m in charge of them.

(Okay actually though:)

What I like about them: Nonverbal. Pink. Perpetually grumpy.

What I don’t: perpetually grumpy. Seriously how did that happen? Why did I do that? Why is the only time they AREN’T grumpy around Rex or when shopping with Obi-Wan?

Favorite scene: The adoption scene in “Observations on the Nature of Cody Ibonek”.

Favorite work: Probably “Observations”. It’s the first one that’s entirely from Pova’s point of view.

Favorite line: “He was making fun of my stimming. I was already having a bad day. I punched him. It’s whatever.” POVA NO. (Pova yes.)

Favorite outfit: Uh. Haven’t given it much thought yet? Haven’t done many character designs, although fromryloth-tocorellia did one for me and it’s my icon at @ver-writes-things if you want to check that out? Also my Halloween costume is gonna be a super basic cosplay of them and I’ll probably post that.

OTP: None. First of all, the oldest I’ve written them so far is 14. Second, I don’t have any other characters their age yet. Maybe the six kids from the Gathering episode survived? But even then I probably wouldn’t ship it. And I mean, not every character needs a romantic ship.

BroTP: Either Pova and Rex or Pova and Luke. Rex is like big brother/cool uncle, and Luke is like little brother. As of right now, though, definitely Rex, as I haven’t written much of anything with Luke.

Headcanon: I don’t have any because all my headcanons about this character are CANON! Man I love having OCs.

Unpopular opinion: to quote Paige Layle on TikTok: “Stop using the term low functioning autistics when you really mean that they’re just nonverbal. And nonverbal autistics still have a lot to say, they just have a hard time talking.” Basically, I’m certain that as this AU gains traction, Pova’s gonna start getting flak from readers for being nonverbal. It hasn’t happened yet, and maybe I’m just being pessimistic, but just in case someone needs the reminder: No. Stop now. Pova’s autistic. And nonverbal. And not a savant (man I fucking hate that trope). But they are a capable Jedi and, with Cody and Obi, developed a very functional sign language comprised of Jedi hand signals, trade sign language (like from episode 5 of the Mandalorian, that the Tuskens use?), and ARC signals. There will be NO functioning labels on this AU, and Pova has and will continue to have PLENTY to say. If you have a problem you know where the door is.

A wish: For everyone to love my kiddo as much as I do!

An oh-gosh-please-don’t-ever-happen: Listen Pova is gonna have a good and happy life. There is trauma and there is bullying and there is heartache but they are going to live a good life with two AMAZING dads. So there is no “don’t ever happen” because it won’t.

5 words to best describe them: Sneaky. Quiet. Excitable. Compassionate. Snarky.

My nickname for them: Kiddo or my kiddo.

#star wars #the clone wars #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #OC Pova #Pova Ibonek

[padme-amitabha]

Hello since you mentioned you are anti Disney are you anti Reylo too? What are your thoughts on other ships

Hmm I wouldn’t exactly call myself an anti Reylo. To be an anti you need to have strong feelings against something and I feel nothing about these two characters and the entire sequel trilogy. Kylo and Rey are so poorly written and underdeveloped characters to the point they feel like blank slates in my mind. So I don’t really care about them getting together. But I’ll acknowledge some parts of their relationship seemed abusive (especially their interaction in TFA) and them getting together after TFA is by no means healthy. Still I’m just not passionate enough to argue against this ship. The only ST ship I like is Finn/Poe because they are cute together have been through a lot together and their relationship could develop over the course of the films.

I’m okay with Jyn/Cassian though they lack solid character traits as well but it’s fine because I think Rogue One was a plot driven movie anyway so fanon works on them are cool. Not sure if it’s an actual ship but I do like C3PO and R2D2 together. With Luke and Obi-Wan, I don’t necessarily think romance is necessary but I’m open to most ships involving them. I do occasionally enjoy Obitine, Codywan and Siriwan. I have a soft spot for Siriwan because of the legends novel ‘Secrets of the Jedi’. If anyone hasn’t read or heard of it, I highly recommend y’all to check it out. I’m fine with Han/Leia though I’m not a big fan of their dynamic (especially in ESB) but I still think it’s great.

Now about the ships I actually don’t like: You can say I’m anti all master/student relationships because I personally just find it really icky. All of the masters and students have big age differences and the masters knew the latter as children/preteens and in some cases raised/groomed them so no. All master/student bonds are meant to be platonic and anything else just feels wrong.

I’m not a big fan of crackships in general neither do I like Anakin/Vader and Padmé being paired with other people. They seem like the only couple who actually matter to the story because without them there would be no Luke and Leia. I love that George based them on Romeo and Juliet while adding bits of Othello/Desdemona to complete the tragedy. I think they only loved each other and just like Anakin’s fate it was destined to happen. I just can’t imagine them loving anyone else. I’m only basing this on the movies; I am not a big fan of TCW nor do I like they created Rush Clovis, a stereotypical clingy ex, just for unnecessary drama and made Anidala unhealthy just because the writers fail to grasp what George intended. I don’t think Anidala is by any means unhealthy or Vaderdala for that matter. I honestly don’t like the distinction because Anakin is Vader at a different point in his life. He made a mistake of choking Padmé on Mustafar because he was unhinged. For the record, he has never been fully mentally stable unlike Kylo Ren as shown in AOTC so you have to keep that in mind. Plus he still regrets doing that to her very much and she’s the first thing he asks about after his surgery. But his actions still break her heart and she loses the will to live. So Vader remains alone with his regrets and in a way this is very fitting because abuse (even if it’s unintentional or accidental) should not be tolerated. Or murder for that matter so even though Anakin’s fall is understandable, karma gets him and he loses everything. I have seen a lot of Anidala fans say Vader and Padmé is toxic but I think it’s only toxic if you make it out to be. I have seen some suitless Vader fics where Padmé is forced to marry him or be with him against her will which is very much abusive. But if Vader still has Anakin’s personality he wouldn’t be abusive at all. Ambitious and power hungry? Definitely but Anakin’s past as a child slave and his mother impacted him deeply. I think he would have respected women even more because of it and definitely wouldn’t force someone to be with him against their will. I dislike how people view Anakin as a saint or like “the good side” of him because it’s the same Anakin who slaughtered the sand people. Viewing him as different from Vader is glossing over his flaws and crimes while undermining his redemption. Vader isn’t a demon possessing Anakin; Vader is Anakin who has no one left and he’s alone and depressed. AOTC Anakin even after his dark moment acted normally with people he cared about (he didn’t exactly lash at Padmé when he returned, did he?) so I don’t think he would have been abusive to Padmé had she lived and I think Padmé would rather die than be abused. If anything Vader would have killed Palpatine much sooner if Padmé was alive.

Anyways there’s only one ship I absolutely despise and it’s a popular dark ship. I don’t think I hate any other ship with such a burning passion and it involves Anakin/Vader and a certain shitty OC from the marvel comics - an unoriginal and trashy character who exists because Disney has given certain writers far too much freedom to write their fanboyish fantasies. So they write a sort of dark Padmé who’s into women but that doesn’t stop them from shamelessly dropping sexual innuendos in every interaction with Vader. The worst thing is the writer pretends it was unintentional while pretending to “discover this ship” and I find it direspectful to the lgbt community that they wrote a character who even though she’s gay is shipped with every male character she interacts with (including Luke), because clearly her preference is not that important. She’s conveniently morally gray too because that way she can team up with both sides. I don’t like any ships where characters have a big age difference and this “dark ship” has about twenty years of it and this OC Smelly Lunatic A*hra is closer to Luke and Leia’s age. She is a mixture of Han Solo, Indiana Jones, Lara Croft, Padmé and even Anakin himself and fangirls over him with plenty of forced and obvious parallels. She even has plot armor and I can’t believe Vader - who kills his own officers for failure - tolerates her when she double crosses him multiple times because Disney is too afraid to kill women especially ones they created to push their own propaganda. Hell she even survives after being thrown into outer space and when she’s alive Vader is a petty villain obsessed with hunting her down and killing her and all these supposedly take place before ESB when I’m sure he had other things on his mind than this one insufferable brat. Even while she’s working for him, he doesn’t hesitate to choke her or use the force to hurt her. He only keeps her around for her skills and it’s not like he cares about hurting her so it’s absolutely toxic but people who ship them seem to think otherwise. She is also allowed to pry on his past and joke around with him which sounds so unrealistic and terrible. To top it off their last interaction involves her, a non force sensitive, trapping him and leaving him to die and giving him some much-needed life advice because she’s clearly very wise and knows better and Vader is an incompetent fool who walked into a trap. Not only does it butcher his character, it makes him a typical and petty villain. I truly can’t express how much I hate this ship and this character. It’s just laughable and insulting to Padmé to think Vader will be with someone else after he believes he killed Padmé or was at least responsible for her death in some way.

(If you happen to like her character or support this ship, feel free to unfollow because all you will ever find in this blog is rants on how terrible the character and the ship is.)

Anyways, there you go that’s my opinion on the SW ships. I’m neutral about the ships I didn’t mention above.

#my thoughts #sw ships #anidala #hanleia #reylo #obitine #codywan #siriwan #vaderdala #finnpoe #jyn x cassian #anti doctor aphra #anti aphra #anti disney #anti disney sw #anti crackshipping

[piepeloe]

TCW S7E09 Old Friends Not Forgotten

Ok, so I have a LOT of thoughts and feelings about this ep. Gonna split them up in a few posts, let’s start with some general ramblings:

- The animation is gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. Either my video quality has been terrible the past few weeks or they’ve really ramped it up for this last arc. I mostly noticed it on Obi-Wan, because, well duh. But the texture of his clothes, the way his robe moved,...But also how drawn his face was. In fact, I feel like the leap in animation allowed for better ‘directing’ as well, the characters had more expressive faces and body language.

- I also noticed the music, lots of themes from the movies. But I really liked the silence over the credits. Very chilling.

- Let’s start with the intro and OMG is this the first time Cody’s mentioned in one of these? I feel like it might be!

- Where are the troopers’ individual markings? I think they were missing for Bad Batch as well. And I know they’re not around for RotS, so they had to do it, but wtf happened? Are all these clones with the same markings shinies? That can’t be because some of them salute Ahsoka. But how did they decide who got to keep theirs, because Rex and Cody still do? I know it’s trivial, but I’m just imagining the poor Jedi having to tell their troopers they can’t have even this one tiny thing that was theirs. Like, imagine Obi-Wan having to tell Boil he can’t have Numa on his armor anymore... Quick, before I get too sad.

- CODYWAN! OMG I was so excited! I’m going to make a separate post about this, but at this point in the season I had lost all hope of them even sharing the screen, so omg.

- Anakin’s plan: I like the idea of a call back to the first ep/movie, I like the execution a bit less. I have had the urge to punch Anakin before, but never quite like this scene. Maybe it’s because it was right after the glorious Codywan scene, but mostly it’s because he was truly insufferably smug and condescending. I did like how he couldn’t quite manage the whole thing just as well as Obi-Wan did: his speech started to flounder and the droid realized it was a trap.

- Also, the troopers: THEY FLY NOW! (I know it probably wasn’t intentional, but I’m going to imagine it was. Bless you Filoni)

- Ahsoka just completely vanished when she left the order? No calls to any of them? I get she was hurt and she wouldn’t call most people, but Anakin? Or Rex? There’s a war on and they could die any minute, but not even a ‘hey, I’m alive, you?’ once a month? Rude.

- Anakin is very upbeat throughout this ep, which I was NOT expecting. Maybe it’s more sort of slightly unhinged giddiness? It suits him though, I like him this way.

- Obi-Wan in a robe: again, it’s probably just because we’re closer to RotS, but he looks so tired and tiny and sad. Like he’s a kid who climbed out of bed after a nightmare. LET HIM REST

- Ugh, Bo Katan, don’t even.

- I like how it’s troopers from the 212th who salute Ahsoka in the corridor. Nice touch.

- The line about ‘loyalty is the most important thing to troopers’ felt weird. I know why it’s there, but I was like ‘um, yes, she knows this already?’. Unless it was a dig about how she DIDN’T CALL. Not even once. Kids these days.

- The whole thing with the helmets and lightsabers was adorable and I loved it. But there’s no way they hadn’t been planning that for ages. How much time was there between that call and Ahsoka coming aboard? Yeah, no, Anakin had been planning the whole ‘make Rex a commander so Ahsoka can have her own troopers again and also lightsabers’.

- Again, love that he gave her the sabers back, but: aren’t those supposed to be very personal, almost extensions of yourself in the Force? With very special crystals only the person can find through a ritual etc. And he upgraded them? And now they look more like his? Rude. Very in character though.

- Why is Anakin not freaking out about an attack on Coruscant? The chancellor is there, *Padme* is there. It must be the unhinged giddiness.

- Rex’s laugh is lovely.

- Alright, Ahsoka is very badass. But can she beat Maul? No disrespect to her, I am absolutely positive she could take TPM-era Obi-Wan easily. But his kid brother and apprentice killed a Council member, and together they beat up Obi-Wan and Ventress. It’s weird how neither Obi-Wan or Anakin uttered even a word of concern, especially considering how many people Maul’s killed that Obi-Wan cares about already. Yet another reason he might not be thrilled about going back there with his former padawan, grand-padawan, and his men.

- Finally, this might be me looking for things, but: I sense a theme of ‘their master’s apprentice’. Anakin using Obi-Wan’s trick in the beginning, Anakin and Ahsoka’s convo on luck, but also Maul. Maul is pretty much doing a scaled down version of what Palpatine is doing: creating a conflict where the Jedi (a particular one in Maul’s case) only have lousy options. But like Anakin he’s not quite as sneaky, so it doesn’t quite pan out.

#star wars #tcw #tcw s7 #tcw s7e09 #Old Friends Not Forgotten

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 13

Part 13 of the oof!au. There’s a lot of hurt to go around and not a lot of sleep.

General Information: Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. (Getting closer). Past/eventual Codywan. Past one-sided Vaderwan.

Warnings: Fall-out from past torture, captivity, mind control, and non-con. Guilt.

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?

Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

Communication with the few people Obi-Wan had left to trust in the galaxy wasn’t easy, but he remembered how to do it, sending a coded message off to Alderaan, hoping for the best. He knew an immediate answer was unlikely, but lingered on the bridge, anyway.

The alternatives were not appealing. He knew he ought to, really, go to the quarters he’d been given. He’d visited the room, once, during the time they’d spent aboardship. The walls had been grey, and for a moment, standing in the doorway, he’d had a jarring sense of being in two places at once.

He’d held onto the doorframe with his hand, breathing slow and steady through his nose, making himself focus on the present, the way he’d learned to do long ago, the first time he’d come back from a mission that left behind more than physical scars. The room on the ship had a little bed, sheets neatly tucked in, and even a viewport.

There was no drain in the floor. In fact, the door set off to one side implied the presence of an actual fresher. Maybe even a sonic shower. There hadn’t been time to enjoy such a luxury with the ship broken down and dying. Obi-Wan had managed to step inside the room, to remain there for less than a minute before he had to open the door again and stumble out, backwards, going until his back bumped the far wall, his heart beating too fast in his chest.

“Sir?” Cody had asked, emotions a knot that Obi-Wan couldn’t work through, ragged concern in his voice.

And Obi-Wan had managed to say, wondering why Cody had been in the hall outside his quarters, “We should get back to work.”

There was no work to be done, while he waited for a message back from Bail. He fiddled with small repairs on the bridge, and breathed a sigh of relief when a reply came through, sparing him the need to make further excuses to avoid his quarters and the silent stillness within them.

The reply he got, short and coded, limited as much as possible to give nothing away if it were intercepted, included coordinates and a brief message. He decoded it and read it over twice, before Cody said, frowning at the screen, “That’s deep in Wild Space.”

“It is,” Obi-Wan said, considering the travel time of such a voyage, wondering what would be waiting at the other side. He knew barely anything about the rebellion that Bail mentioned in the missive. Nor could he imagine why anyone in it would be happy to see him.

“Is that where we’re going?” Tektek asked, walking over from the station he’d been repairing; weapon’s systems, Obi-Wan thought, the lay-out of the bridge wasn’t quite the same as the Negotiator’s had been.

Obi-Wan shrugged, staring at the coordinates. “That’s up to everyone, I suppose.” He glanced over at Tektek, working a smile onto his mouth. “You can all go wherever you like.” There was, at least, a kind of relief in that realization. 

His men - this portion of them, anyway, and Obi-Wan did not know how many more survived - were free. Freer even than they’d been during the War. Free from the orders of the Senate, free from any minders that might have been sent after them from Kamino, free from the control in their heads. They could go and do whatever they liked. Finally.

“Sure,” Tektek said, a little frown on his face, “so where are you going?”

Obi-Wan reached up to rub at his chin with a hand he didn’t have anymore and closed his eyes, briefly, marshalling his expression. “I suppose,” he said, when his voice felt steady, “I’ll go see what’s waiting at the end of these coordinates.”

He had nothing else better to do. He could return to Tatooine, but… it seemed unlikely Luke needed his protection, anymore. He’d run, after his first trip to Mustafar, tried to bury himself away from all the rest of the galaxy.

It hadn’t worked.

There seemed to be little point to trying the same thing again.

“Set a course,” Cody said, and Obi-Wan turned to blink over at him.

“You don’t have to take me there,” he said, cautiously, because Cody’s emotions were always held so tightly. He felt like he was walking on a wire, like he was waiting for an explosion. His men were hurt inside, he could feel it, and he still didn’t know how to help. He’d tried to apologize several times, but it got him nowhere. He got the distinct feeling that having him around made them feel worse. And so he swallowed and said, evenly as he could, “This is your ship--”

“Our ship,” Cody interrupted, echoed by Tektek and the other troopers around the room.

Obi-Wan’s heart ached. He didn’t know how he was hurting them, or how to make it stop, but he was touched that they still wanted to include him. “Our ship, then,” he said. “But, if you want to drop me--”

“We don’t,” Cody bit out, emotions all sharp edges, just for a moment, gaze snapping up, his eyes dark and fierce.

Obi-Wan held his gaze - it was rare, Cody seemed to avoid looking directly at him, most of the time - and said, “I’d like to give everyone the option to decide.”

Cody blinked and then shrugged. “Of course,” he said, and then looked away, jaw clenched before he continued, “Do you want to go alone?”

Obi-Wan thought of his quarters, the empty cell on Mustafar, his hovel on Tatooine, and shuddered. He said, before he could stop himself, “No. I -- no. Not alone. But--”

“There you are,” Bones interrupted, storming into the room with a scowl, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize he was talking to Cody. “I told you to get down to the infirmary after the situation was resolved.”

“It wasn’t resolved,” Cody shot back, and Bones scowled at him.

Obi-Wan slipped towards the door while they were arguing. He thought, perhaps, he’d better ask around, make sure his men really wanted to head off into Wild Space. Force knew they deserved the choice to determine their own future, and if it kept him busy, well…

So much the better. Moving helped him stay awake, in any case. And he wasn’t ready to risk sleeping.

#

All of his men - they weren’t really his men anymore, he knew that, they were their own people - seemed to want to head off to Wild Space. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps they just didn’t know where else to go, yet. Perhaps they wanted to stick together.

He understood that. 

Obi-Wan spoke to as many people as he could find, eventually ending up near one of the group freshers on the ship. He stood outside for a moment, feeling gritty and filthy, mind buzzing with loud exhaustion.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d bathed properly, the last time he’d been able to just stand under water for as long as he wanted and clean himself off. He knew he stank. There was blood caked over his skin, peeling off here and there, augmented with oil and filth from ship repairs.

There were troopers in the room. He felt their presence and reached his hand out, almost touching the door controls.

There had been communal baths at the Temple. Beautiful, tiled rooms with pools of various temperatures, to accommodate Jedi from different worlds. Some had been fresh water, others salt, some had contained nutrients that gave Obi-Wan a terrible rash, but brought on the colors in Master Fisto’s skin.

He’d grown up playing in the pools, relaxing, surrounded by those he cared about, by his family.

The Jedi were all dead. Aside from Master Yoda, he did not know for sure that any others survived, though he hoped, he hoped so desperately that his message had gotten through, that there were others out there, safe and hidden and--

And he shoved all of those thoughts aside. He just wanted to be clean. He’d scrubbed down around his men - not his men, their own men - before, during the war. But - but his presence hadn’t hurt them, then. Being around him didn’t make their emotions stain out into the Force, so thick that it tightened his throat.

He took a step back, turned, and made himself go to his quarters. It was just a room. Just a few walls and a bunk. It had a fresher of its own and he worked to keep his breathing steady as the door closed at his back.

He focused on his pulse - racing - as he walked across the room, tugging off the blacks he’d been wearing for too many days. He left them piled on the floor, reaching out to turn on the water - he didn’t want a sonic shower, not then - and freezing as he caught a look at himself in the mirror.

He’d not… seen himself for some time. Not in anything but the reflections off of Anakin’s helmet. He’d managed to convince himself that those were, for the most part, warped. Perhaps they hadn’t been. 

His hair was a tangle, grown to hang over his ears and in his face. There was so much white in it, far more than he remembered even from Tatooine. His beard was starting to grow back in, stubbly across his cheeks and jaw. White in that hair, too, he noted.

There were dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks cut sharp. He’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose. Too many ribs stood up against his skin. No wonder the troopers kept trying to get him to eat; he’d lost count of how many nutrient packs they’d brought him over the days of repair. 

His skin bore new scars. He could see the edges of the brands Anakin had left on his back, the burns raised and red. His gaze roamed across the mirror until he couldn’t avoid, any longer, looking at his left arm.

It just...stopped, a bit above where his elbow had once been, and he shuddered, hearing Anakin’s voice in his head, staring across into the past, into Tektek’s eyes, Anakin saying, “This is fair, isn’t it? You deserve this, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan made it to the toilet before he gagged, vomit rising up his throat so suddenly it made him dizzy. He spat down into the bowl, afterwards, shivery all over and breathing hard. The smell of burned skin was stuck in his nose. He needed to bathe. That was all. Needed to get clean. It would help, he knew from experience.

The water was hot, when he stepped under it. He scrubbed at his hair, at his skin, vicious with the movements, watching filthy water swirl around his feet and down the drain. Eventually, the water ran clear. Obi-Wan braced his hand against the wall and let the water run over him, the warmth feeding the exhaustion in his head.

He didn’t remember the last time he had slept. Whatever he’d done in the bacta, back on Mustafar, it hadn’t been restful. Nothing on Mustafar had been restful. Whatever he’d done as Cody carried him away hadn’t been sleep, either. Unconscious wasn’t the same as sleeping.

He shivered, turning off the water eventually. There was a towel, hanging outside the stall. He grabbed it and learned how to dry off with one hand. There was a little clothing locker out in the room. It had a set of blacks - clean - in it. Obi-Wan pulled them on quickly.

He liked having clothes to wear, again. It made him feel… further away from everything Anakin had done, even if they didn’t fit right. He knotted the left sleeve, awkward with only one hand, and then stood there, breathing.

Exhaustion battered at the back of his eyes. He knew, perfectly well, that he ought to lay down and sleep. It would help. He’d always done what he needed to do. So he marched stiffly over to the bed and made himself lay down.

The mattress and pillow were nothing special. They felt the same as his bed on the Negotiator. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep. That was what he needed. He’d recovered from - well, perhaps not worse.

But he’d recovered. Before. From similar torture.

He’d had help.

He exhaled and closed his eyes, stretching out his mind throughout the ship, checking on the troopers. They all felt worn thin. Exhausted. Hurt and aching. He did what he could to soothe them, the dark behind his eyes getting heavier, harder to hold at bay, and he slept. Briefly.

He dreamed of hands holding him down, fingers burning hot as brands pressed into his skin, smoke rising off of his body as he thrashed and tried to get away, unable to scream as Anakin stepped behind him, lowering a long, slightly curved brand, glowing white hot, pushing it--

Obi-Wan jerked awake with a whine caught behind his teeth, sweaty under his clothes, breathing raggedly, his blood pounding wildly in his veins. According to the chrono beside the mattress, he’d been asleep around an hour. 

“Force,” he panted out, shaking, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting his elbow on his thigh, hanging his head down, trying to control his breathing. He could still feel the burning. Still smell char in his nose. He pushed to his feet, swaying for just a moment, and swallowed bile.

Sleep could wait, he decided. Surely there was something on the ship that needed doing. He stepped out of the room to find Cody walking down the hall, a frown on his face and his hands clenched at his sides. Cody paused as his door opened and said, “I thought you were sleeping.”

Obi-Wan made his mouth curve up in the edges. “Not tired,” he lied. “Thought I’d get something to eat.”

Cody’s gaze cut to the side. He nodded, said, “Alright,” and followed Obi-Wan, without another word, down to the mess hall.

#

There were other troopers eating, when they arrived. Obi-Wan grabbed a nutrient pack. They watched him, all of them, keeping an eye on him as he crossed the room, their emotions bunching up from his presence.

He paused beside Tektek, looking at his recently shaved head, and asked, thoughts jerky and uncoordinated with exhaustion, “Are there scissors around here, somewhere? A razor?” His hair hung too long, falling into his face, and he hated--

Hated the memories of fingers clenched in it, of Anakin, pulling him around by the strands, forcing his head down and--

“Yes, sir,” Tektek said, looking up at him, grip tightening on his fork for a moment. 

“Do you think I could borrow them?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to smile and not quite managing it, trying to be normal, trying to be...whatever it was they needed him to be, to stop them all radiating such agony into the Force. He glanced down at himself and said, aiming for rueful, “I don’t know how well I’ll do, but anything is better than this.”

“I’ll help you, General,” Mav said, standing from where he’d been sitting across from Tektek. He had - perhaps of all of Obi-Wan’s men - gone through the most different styles during the war. He’d never quite settled on one he liked. Or perhaps the different choices were what he liked, in and of themselves. 

“You don’t--” Obi-Wan started, but Mav had already turned on his heel and marched off. Obi-Wan blinked, watching him go.

Tektek said, “Sit here, sir, he’ll be back in a moment,” and Obi-Wan had thought they didn’t want him around - he made them hurt - but it must not have been so terrible. Perhaps they could just tell how much he didn’t want to be alone.

He sat, with a little smile, Cody pulling out the chair beside him and joining them, wordlessly. Cody, he noted, with a sideways glance, still looked exhausted, hurt radiating out of him. Obi-Wan needed to have a word with Bones.

He opened his nutrient pack, sighed at the contents - still better than the gruel he’d subsited on under Anakin’s care - and took a bite, aware of glances being exchanged over his head. Conversation resumed, slowly, as he ate.

“We were talking about what to name the ship,” Tektek offered, his food finished, though he made no effort to get up. “What do you think we should name her?”

Obi-Wan glanced up, surprised he was being asked. “What’s her name, now?”

It was Cody who answered, flat, as Mav made his way back through the room, supplies in his arms. He said, “The Executioner.”

Obi-Wan grimaced, swallowing the last bite. He’d learned to eat quickly very young, and never forgotten how. It was so much harder for people to take food away from you if you’d already swallowed it. He said, “Yes, I think we can do better than that. Are you keeping her, then?”

Tektek glanced towards Cody and then shrugged. “We thought, sir, well. This is one of the Empire’s new models. She’s built to fight. Be a shame to let her go to waste.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He thought about Coruscant, about the Temple, about all of his family, slaughtered, about his men, turned inside out and trapped in their own minds. Anakin had done many things, but he hadn’t been the architect of all this suffering.

“It would,” he agreed, finally, as Mav reached them and deposited his supplies on the table.

He’d found a brush somewhere, and Obi-Wan felt an embarrassing sting in his eyes just from the sight of it. It had been...a long time, since he’d brushed his hair. Mav reached out, making to touch his shoulder, and then froze when Cody made a sharp, abrupt noise, stiffening beside him.

Their emotions were a painful tangle, so many emotions, all trying to tug Obi-Wan down. He felt so tired; it made them more difficult to handle. He braced his hand on the table, reeling with it all as Mav asked, “Sir, is it -- can I--?”

Obi-Wan managed a nod, after a moment. “Yes,” he said. “Go right ahead.”

And Cody stayed tense as a compressed spring beside him, as Mav tried to work through the tangles, eventually giving up and cutting out the worst of the knots. The troopers around them bandied names back and forth as Mav worked, and each hank of hair that fell made Obi-Wan feel lighter, until he thought he might float away.

“How short do you want it?” Mav asked, eventually.

And Obi-Wan said, “Shorter,” without even thinking about it. He didn’t want it long enough for anyone to twist fingers into it, he wanted--

“I can clip it,” Mav said, cautiously, and Obi-Wan nodded.

The razor buzzed at the back of his head, slicing away more of the hair, until Obi-Wan could imagine that all the parts Anakin had touched were gone, laying around him across the floor, and they shouldn’t have done this in the mess hall, but…

“There you go,” Mav said, when he finished, turning off the razor, and Obi-Wan reached up to run his hand over the top of his head. The hair wasn’t shaved completely. It prickled his palm. He didn’t think he’d had it so short since his Padawan days, and--

“Thank you,” he said, looking up and crooking a smile onto his mouth. Mav nodded; he felt… steadier, through the Force. Not so raw and shredded as he gathered things up, and Obi-Wan said, quietly, “So, about the name.”

“I was thinking,” Cody said, tone stiff and flat, and he hadn’t moved, though he was long finished his meal, “The Recompense.”

Obi-Wan froze, swallowing, but his men - they were their own men - well, if anyone deserved a chance for justice, a chance to make things right… He nodded, and said, “A good choice.” And he was happy to just sit there, listening to them all discuss it, for a while.

#

Obi-Wan couldn’t just sit in the mess hall forever, as much as he wouldn’t have minded. Bones swung by, eventually, told him he looked exhausted, and pointedly suggested he ought to go sleep.

Obi-Wan didn’t have the energy to fight, so he nodded and made his way towards his quarters. He tried to sleep again. He made it a few hours, before he was roused, the taste of vomit in his mouth and the burning memory of Cody’s hands blazed across his skin.

He got up.

Over the next days of travel he snagged pieces of sleep here and there, knowing, deep down, that he needed more. He sorted away his own nightmares, working through them, but when he was sleeping… the pain of everyone else on the ship tended to slip into his head.

He didn’t only have his nightmares, in the days that followed.

He dreamed the dreams of others, and they all featured him, every single one. He closed his eyes and watched himself scream - had he looked like that? - and felt himself struggling against a borrowed body, as, in the dreams, he did terribly things to his own body, and--

And he knew he needed sleep, but… Staying awake hurt less.

#

They’d nearly reached the coordinates where they were to stop when Obi-Wan found a little room where some of the troopers had gathered - they were cleaning their blasters, almost silent - and he slipped inside, settling in a corner. They noticed him, he felt their emotions shift at his presence, but none of them said anything.

They just… glanced his way as he folded his legs and drew his back straight. They’d likely gotten used to him meditating. He’d done it often, once upon a time. He tried to sink down into the Force, looking for serenity within his mind, and jarred, just a little, when Cody came through the door a few minutes later.

Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed, kept focusing. 

Meditating would help restore his energy, somewhat. He drew in a deep breath, planning to order his thoughts, and sleep snuck up on him, swallowing him down.

#

Obi-Wan dreamed of burning shackles around his wrists - both of them - and Anakin, as he’d been once, but with burning yellow eyes, snarling, “This is what you deserve, isn’t it? Say it!” And pain and pain and pain and--

He woke with his heart trying to beat out of his chest, trying to tear through his ribs. There were hands on his shoulders, familiar and well-known, a voice saying, “--up, just a dream, it’s--”

Obi-Wan lurched, snapping his eyes open, his veins burning and his gut hard, reaching out for the Force, desperately, trying to tell what was real and what was only in his head. Cody was - was crouched in front of him, touching him -- holding him down, fingers digging into his skin -- radiating horror and concern and guilt and--

Obi-Wan flinched, couldn’t help it, a reflex in his spine making him pull back, trying to scramble away. He felt Cody’s emotions flare out even as he jerked his hands off of Obi-Wan’s shoulders. And that was worse, somehow, being alone, again -- laying in an empty cell, alone, nothing but the drain and -- 

Cody froze, went still and stiff, emotions blanking, and there was movement, past his shoulder, sudden and jerking. Obi-Wan flinched again, curling his arm up, automatic to protect his head, strangling off a cry in his throat, and Cody twisted to look over his shoulder, snarling, “Get back! All of you! Now!”

Obi-Wan listened to them scramble back, their emotions all torn to shreds, pulling him deeper into a spiral of his own making. Shame and horror surged through Obi-Wan. He knew it hurt them to be around him, he should have been more cautious. They all felt agonized, flayed open, and he worked to control himself, to pull the nightmare apart into wisps, clearing his throat to rasp, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Cody said, voice cracking.

“I know I failed you all,” Obi-Wan said, the edges of their dreams still curled up in his head. He could just close his eyes, feeling exhaustion digging its poisonous fingers into his brain, letting the words spill out. “I don’t blame you. For wanting to stay away from me. I--”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody sounded like he’d been gut-shot again. It was the first time he’d said Obi-Wan’s name in...so long. Obi-Wan shivered at the sound of it. Even during the war, it had been rare for Cody to use his name. He’d saved it for those special occasions, when he thought Obi-Wan was going to die.

“I’m very tired,” Obi-Wan said, trying to offer Cody a way out of this conversation, a way forward. And it was true, anyway.

“I’ll get you back to your quarters,” Cody said, softly, and Obi-Wan nodded. He should have never imposed on them, anyway.

#

Shouting woke Obi-Wan from a dream of clawing hands and teeth, eating into him. He jerked, terror translating over into the waking world for a moment--

And he reached out with the Force, trying to find out what was going on, and the first thing he touched was Cody’s mind, close by, overfull with fierce, bright emotions, all burning edges, protectiveness and anger blazing out of him.

“Sir!” a voice yelled from the doorway as light flooded in, and Obi-Wan’s memories slotted into place. He’d… fallen asleep in his bunk. He had no idea how long he’d slept, but his head felt heavy. “We’ve reached the coordinates,” Shortfuse said, worry and excitement moving through him. “And there’s a ship waiting, sir. Thought you’d want to know.”

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing at his face, glad to have something to focus on, something to hold onto. “I suppose we’d better go see who it is.”

#

“I’m not sure you should be here,” Cody said, five minutes later, as they reached the docking port on the ship. He’d said it three times already, expression flat and emotions tightly contained. “We can handle this.”

“So can I,” Obi-Wan said, lightly, checking the blaster in his hand again. He disliked using the weapons, but he disliked more the idea of using Anakin’s bloody red lightsaber, ever again. He listened to the docking ports whirl and hum, stretching out his senses towards the other ship, shivering at what he picked up, hesitating to believe it was real. 

“Besides,” he said, as the airlock hissed, preparing to open, “I don’t think we’re going to have trouble.”

It had been years since he’d felt the mind on the other side of the door. And it was not...quite the same. There were major differences. But…

He held his breath as the airlock rose, caught a flash of white, and heard Cody make a harsh, flat sound. Cody grabbed him - apparently not so leery of touching him, now - and yanked him back a step, blaster up and drawn on the man in trooper armor on the other side of the door, who was also moving, shoving the figure with him back a step, moving in front of her, blaster raised.

Obi-Wan gripped Cody’s wrist, forcing his hand down, snapping, for the benefit of the rest of his men, “Don’t shoot! No one fire a shot, do I make myself clear?”

And, from behind the trooper before them, a familiar voice said, cracking with shock, “Master Obi-Wan?”

Ahsoka stepped around the side of her partner - and Obi-Wan thought he recognized Rex’s mind, too, not understanding how that was possible - ignoring him when he tried to pull her back a step, hissing, “What the kriff are you doing?”

“They’re not chipped,” Obi-Wan said, staring forward, at a ghost. He’d thought Ahsoka dead, like all the rest of their family, but there she stood in front of him, taller and sharper, her montrals curved and pointed, but her eyes just the same, wide and shocked and aching.

“Master?” she croaked again, taking a step towards him, looking him up and down, her expression growing more and more horrified by the moment. And then she was to him, reaching out, and Cody made a hard, sharp sound in his throat, gripping Obi-Wan’s arm and pulling him bodily back a step.

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan said, not sure who he was talking to, specifically. Perhaps all of them.

Past Ahsoka’s shoulder, the trooper in the airlock removed his helmet, familiar blond hair still trimmed short, a few new scars over his face, and Rex was alive; Ahsoka was alive. Bail had sent them to Obi-Wan, he’d--

Ahsoka made a hoarse sound, and threw herself at him, arms around his neck, pulling him close. Obi-Wan buried a flinch, an automatic drive to jerk away from her. He managed, after a moment, to curl his arm around her, instead, while, somewhere far away, Rex demanded, “What the kriff is going on?”

#whumptober2020 #no.23 #exhaustion #references to past torture and non con #mental anguish #guilt and emotional trauma #oof!au #my writing #codywan #they're getting there #and look #help!

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 9

Day 9 of Whumptober, part 9 of the oof!au. And now we come to the turning of the tides. This one is SUPER long (6k) and is also the only part of the series to have a split POV. 

General Info: Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.

WARNINGS: Mentions of past torture and loss of a limb. Implications of non-con. Mistreatment of a prisoner. Fall-out of mind control. Mentions of/thoughts about suicide. Death (including a major character. For the sake of spoilers, I’m not going to say who dies, but if you need to know before you read shoot me a msg and I’ll tell you).

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? 

On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue 

Victory left Vader feeling warm inside, pleased. For a time. He got what he wanted, what he deserved, Obi-Wan begging for his forgiveness, using his proper title, obeying. He got all the apologies he was owed, and it only cost a few bodies, slumped against a wall.

Obi-Wan’s agony and horror filled the entirety of the Force, ratcheting higher with each clone that died. He was such a weak fool. They were nothing, just things, and broken things at that, for all that Obi-Wan carried on, his pain so large it felt like a living creature, sucking up all the air in the room, filling every possible piece of Vader’s mind, battering at him from across their bond.

He’d never, actually, felt pain like that from Obi-Wan before. Never once. It brought back memories of their time on Zygerria, where similar emotions had swirled out of Obi-Wan’s head, but… Obi-Wan had more control, back then.

Under Vader’s command, he cracked and broke, shattering like glass each time Vader so much as threatened one of the clones. It was ridiculous. Every single one of them would happily put a blaster bolt in Obi-Wan’s head, and yet he fell to his knees and he groveled and he said, obediently, whichever words Vader wanted.

He did whatever Vader wanted, without protest, without hesitation, for all that his expression was some blank and empty thing. Sometimes, Vader had one of the clones shot, anyway, just to make sure Obi-Wan didn’t lose track of the stakes.

He did everything Vader wanted, so agreeable, the great General Kenobi brought so low. Finally put into his place. Agreeing, with the rasp that remained of his voice, that Vader was right to take his arm, stretching it out, head bowed, fair was fair, after all. Agreeing that he’d been wrong. Agreeing while his agony curled through the Force, staining everything.

Vader worked to hold onto the initial pleasure of his victory, fought for it, temper growing worse as Obi-Wan spoiled things, once more. He could barely breathe, around Obi-Wan’s cursed emotions, by the time it became obvious that Obi-Wan needed to go to the medbay, no longer shaking, no longer doing much of anything but breathing shallowly, gone pale all over, staring at the troopers, intently.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan was murmuring, barely audible, as a pair of troopers lifted him and carried him away - strange that they had not dragged him, Vader considered, but only briefly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept repeating, as they carried him through the door. He had been slurring the words for some hours.

Vader appreciated the apologies, but, truly, they were far too little too late.

He turned away as the door shut, moving to look out over the open viewport along the side of the room, staring out across the lava fields below. He curled his hands around the railing, breathing hard, and reassured himself that he had, in fact, gotten everything he wanted, finally.

He turned away from the view, eventually, and went to check the messages his Master had sent him, over the past days.

#

Cody warned Crys to watch his expression when they were out of the medbay. To control his emotions. Vader was one of the few Force sensitive people left in the galaxy, as far as Cody knew. That meant he could, technically, pick up emotions.

Cody worked to keep his feelings contained. To stay as blank as possible. But there was fury in him. Fury and rage and guilt and hurt and--

And Obi-Wan had taught him, back during the war, how to breathe slowly and deeply, how to settle himself when the noise in his head got to be too much. Cody remembered sitting beside him, quietly, meditating in a dimly lit room with the sweet smell of incense all around them, listening to Obi-Wan’s breath and falling into the same pattern, so they were breathing as one and, he had imagined, perhaps their heartbeats even changed to match--

Obi-Wan floated in a bacta tank as Cody walked back into the medbay, hours after he’d left, leaving Crys to continue on with their preparation. Obi-Wan’s remaining limbs curled close, like he was trying to make himself small, even while unconscious. 

Cody remembered everything his body had done. Remembered, so clearly, giving the order to shoot Obi-Wan down on Utapau, the cool slide of satisfaction in his mind as he’d watched his General plunge into the waste-water pit. He remembered moving out, remembered reassignment, remembered people begging, pleading with him--

He dug his nails up into his palms, when the memories got to be too much, and marched forward, back towards where he’d left Bones. Who was… bent over another trooper, when Cody entered the room, and who snapped, “Don’t say a word.”

And so Cody didn’t, because you listened to the medics when they gave you orders, even when you, technically, out-ranked them. He waited, patiently, moving a bit around the side of the bed to watch as Bones did… something to the side of their brother’s head.

It didn’t take very long before Bones shifted, pressed a bacta patch into place, and looked up at Cody, scowling, to snap, “Chips.”

“Excuse me?” Cody said, considering that the aneurysm may have caused more damage to Bones’ mind than they’d first assumed, adjusting his plan to work around that, and--

“There are chips in our brains,” Bones said. “Frontal lobe. I assume that’s what’s controlling us, because I’ve removed four of them so far, and the results have been favorable.”

Cody blinked at him, struck, abruptly, by how good it was to have his brothers back, to have help, to remember that Bones was every bit as competent as he was, if with the tools of the medical bay instead of combat planning. “Where are they?” he asked, “The ones you freed?”

“Waiting for you,” Bones said, mouth quirking, his eyes hard and flat as Cody’s felt. “I sent them to the barracks and told them not to draw attention to themselves. Guv is going to stay here, though. He’ll help me, we’ll move twice as quickly.”

Cody nodded, calculations streaming through his head. There wasn’t much of the 212th left. Their men had been thrown onto the front lines in the immediate aftermath of the war. He didn’t believe for a moment that hadn’t been intentional, another jab at Obi-Wan, even though everyone had thought him dead.

Palpatine and Skywalker had wanted them all dead, at first, just because they were Obi-Wan’s.

The survivors were mostly clustered on Mustafar, such as they were. “How long to free them all?” he asked, as Guv started to stir around. 

Bones shrugged. “A few days? Maybe less, if I can find another medic or two.”

Cody reached out and gripped his shoulder. He said, “Good work. Stay out of the way in here, you hear me? Just leave if Skywalker comes by.” To see Obi-wan, he did not add. He didn’t think he needed to. “But make sure I’m informed.”

“Will do,” Bones said, and Cody left him to his work, a piece of his plan that he’d dared only hope for slotting into place. He’d been prepared to bring this entire place down on his own, if necessary. It looked like he was going to have help. He could work with that.

He looked at Obi-Wan again, on his way out of the medbay, bile burning in the back of his throat, and then set his expression. He stared forward and worked to keep his expression cool and blank. Empty. Just like the faces of all of his brothers. 

Cody knew every face around him. His men, wiped clean. Emptied. Screaming inside their own heads, the way he’d been. Begging for someone to help, where no one could hear. Trying desperately to regain control of themselves long enough to - to make it stop.

Cody had spent three long years trapped inside the prison of his own mind, watching his body commit atrocities. All he’d wanted was the opportunity to put a blaster to the side of his head and pull the trigger. It had seemed, for so long, the only way to escape. 

He’d managed to fight his way to a different kind of freedom. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t been strong enough to do it weeks ago, before--

Before Vader had gotten his hands on Obi-Wan. Before he’d made Cody--

Cody fought to keep his breathing steady and lost, but none of his brothers looked his way as he reached out, bracing a hand against the wall, back curling over as his heart lurched, off-rhythm and agonizing. 

He’d beaten Obi-Wan. With his own hands, he’d-- he’d thought about the best ways to cause pain and then he’d done it, methodical. Effective. And he’d - he’d - Force - Obi-Wan had begged him not to and he hadn’t been strong enough to stop, he’d--

Never again, he thought, straightening and continuing towards the door to move through all the expected motions and to check on his brothers, such as they were. The bunk room. That was where Bones had sent those he’d freed.

They were all packed in, barely enough room to walk between the beds. The space felt claustrophobic and empty at the same time, because even when the bunks were all full it was silent. No one talked. No one laughed. They just… moved about. Silent. Ghosts made flesh.

Cody walked between them, memories of the past dogging his steps, drawing to a stop by Swoop, who was… sitting like all the rest of them. They were supposed to be cleaning their blasters. It looked like he’d started the process and abandoned it.

He was sitting, staring straight forward, blaster in hand and shaking, badly, as he slowly raised his arm, his finger on the trigger. Cody’s heart lurched in his chest and he reached out, without even thinking, grabbing Swoop’s wrist with one hand, stripping the blaster away with the other.

He said, quietly, hoping Bones would understand, “Report to the medbay.”

Swoop stared forward, breathing shakily, his ear shiny with red blood, and Cody swallowed, wishing he could do more. “I’ve got you,” he said. “Just go to the medbay. That’s an order.” He’d been able to hear things, while he was trapped.

Swoop must have been listening, because he let out a shuddery breath, and stood, moving without a word towards the door. Cody checked on the rest of his men - his brothers - and found those Bones had freed clustered together, looking over to watch him with haunted, shadowed eyes. 

“Come with me,” he said, as he reached them, tilting his head towards the door. He had so much to do and intended to waste no time accomplishing it. He gave them instructions and sent them on their way, smiling grimly as they moved off. He turned on his heel; there was so much to do, and had a moment where he thought everything might go wrong, when he stepped out of the barracks and found Vader walking down the hall, ridiculous cloak flapping behind him.

He resisted the urge to go for his blaster. It wouldn’t work, he reminded himself, and instead drew to attention, the way he’d been forced to do for so long. Cody stared forward, face carefully blank, focusing on being...empty, inside. 

He hoped Vader wouldn’t glance towards him and his heart lurched, unpleasantly, when Vader drew to a stop before him. Cody saw his own reflection in the side of Vader’s helmet, the lines on his face deeper, a distortion of himself.

“2224,” Vader said, something pleased and thick in his tone. Gloating. Smug. “Obi-Wan asked if you were alright. Did you know that? So worried you were hurt. The things he did, to make sure I allowed the droids to tend to you. Can you imagine them?”

There was no reason to tell him. No reason at all, except to revel in the hurt he was causing Obi-Wan. Vader, as far as Cody knew, thought they were all… dead inside. Cody fought with himself; he’d been doing that without respite for three years. He’d gotten very, very good at it, apparently. His expression did not twitch as he said, blank, “No, Lord Vader.”

He expected Vader to notice how very badly Cody wanted to kill him. Instead, Vader just said, “You’ll report to my quarters when he’s recovered. I think it’s time we ended his fascination with you.”

And he turned away, resuming his march. Cody exhaled, harshly, as Vader exited through the doors at the end of the hall, heat from the volcanos beyond sweeping in, temporarily, before the doors closed. His hands itched, not with the urge to reach for a blaster. He’d rather beat Vader to death, he realized, with a dark, twisting slant of his emotions, beat him the way Vader had forced him to beat Obi-Wan, until he wasn’t moving anymore and--

But that would have to wait. He was not ruled by his emotions or the flat, cold fury inside of him. He had one possible opportunity to get Obi-Wan out of here. To rescue his brothers. He wasn’t going to waste it.

No one cared where he went around the base. Vader had, after all, left him in charge of so much, ever so confident in the power of his control, in his ability to make Cody do whatever Vader liked. Well, Cody considered, heading for the munitions bay to check on Crys, keeping his expression studiously blank, he was in the mood to do what he liked. 

He’d always favored explosions.

#

Vader wanted nothing more than to enjoy his crowning moment of victory for a little while. He didn’t see why, after all he’d done for the galaxy and his Master, that could not be allowed. But, apparently, he had been silent for too long after his successes.

His Master had sent Tarkin to check on him, as though he were a wayward child. Vader recalled being quite impressed with Tarkin, once. He’d seemed sure of purpose, during the war. Willing to do what needed done.

Currently, Tarkin only irritated him. Lectures appealed not at all to him, but he had his orders and, besides, Obi-Wan would be in the medbay for some time yet. Vader had been forced to punish him, to remind him of his place, to take a pound of flesh; it was nothing Obi-Wan hadn’t taken from him.

And when he recovered enough to be stable, Vader would take the rest of what he was owed.

Tarkin asked after his current projects and sneered at the base and was, generally, an irritant. Vader resisted the urge to lift a hand and strangle the man. His Master would be displeased, if he did.

His irritation built up behind his bones, restrained and held back. This was Obi-Wan’s fault, anyway. If he hadn’t distracted Vader so much, he’d have completed the tasks set before him and wouldn’t have to deal with Tarkin’s overbearing presence, for however long the man decided to stay.

Vader scowled behind his mask, and resigned himself to playing the unwilling host for nearly three days, before Tarkin finally left, apparently satisfied that he’d thrown his weight around enough.

It left Vader’s temper surging through his veins, burning hot and stinging. He sent an order to the medbay that Obi-Wan be dragged from the bacta, ignoring the droid’s complaints that he was not fully healed; apparently, there was some kind of internal damage. “He’ll live,” Vader snapped, “I want him brought to me.”

He needed to settle the pressure in his head, the rage in his blood.

It was, after all, all Obi-Wan’s fault.

#

Cody worked unceasingly for three days, getting everything moved into place. Exhaustion beat at the insides of his head, forcing him to get his head down for a few hours at a time. He wouldn’t risk ruining the mission because he was kriffing tired, so he made himself wedge into a bunk and shut his eyes, determined.

The nightmares woke him after what felt like moments, leaving him gasping and jerking to sit, vomit rising in his throat. In the nightmares, he saw Obi-Wan, every single time. Begging, bloody, held down and hurt and--

And Cody was the one hurting him, every time.

He swallowed, hard, panting and feeling sweat break out across his skin. His stomach hurt, terribly and his head throbbed. But a few nightmares were less of a punishment than he deserved, for what he’d done. He was going to get Obi-Wan out of here. He was going to drop the entire base into a volcano. He was going to kill Skywalker, with his bare hands, if possible.

And then he’d think of a way to pay for what he’d done, and pay the cost, gladly.

Until then, he scrubbed a hand across his face and stood. He’d slept a few hours. More than long enough. It would have to be. He couldn’t bear the thought of putting his head on the pillow again, of shutting his eyes, of leaving his subconscious free to return to the monstrosities he’d committed.

He loved Obi-Wan. Had loved Obi-Wan for so kriffing long. And he’d still--

Cody pushed the thoughts away, rising from the bunk and meeting Reck’s eyes from the bunk across the aisle. Reck nodded, just a little, barely a sign of movement, but enough to show he was in there.

So many of them were free.

Soon everyone on the base would be themselves again. They’d gotten lucky in that regard, Cody knew. The visit of the Admiral had distracted Skywalker, something Cody hadn’t anticipated. Thus far, Obi-Wan had been the only thing that adequately kept Skywalker occupied and--

And Cody hadn’t been willing to use that distraction again. Skywalker was never going to raise a hand to Obi-Wan, ever. He was never going to get the chance.

Cody held onto that thought, moving out into the base, expression studiously blank, just in case. He threw himself into the last stages of his preparations; making sure the base was wired appropriately was important. Taking care of the ships in the hangar needed handled, as well. They needed one clean - free of any tracking devices - and the rest… well.

Cody wasn’t taking any chances. There’d be no way for Vader to get off of this rock, if somehow Cody failed to kill him directly. He didn’t plan to fail, but having contingencies never hurt anyone. 

He spent hours in the hangar, ensuring everything was just so, nodded grimly once finished, and moved back through the base, looking for something else to keep him busy. It was so vitally important that he stay busy. It kept the memories away, kept his thoughts from spiralling inward in a way that made him want to reach for his blaster. 

He didn’t think he could kill Skywalker with it. Yet. But lifting it, pressing it to the side of his own temple, was…

He swallowed, marching blank faced down the hall. Those were thoughts for another time. Save Obi-Wan. Kill Skywalker. Blow up the base. Get his brothers out of here. Those were the goals he needed to hold onto. And he gripped them, tight. Focused on nothing else and nothing more.

Cody went to the medbay. There was generally something to do there, and most of the rest of his preparations were complete. Bones almost always had a brother in recovery, someone who needed explanations and comfort, who needed to be told it was alright, now, that it was over, the long nightmare they’d all shared.

Cody went over all the completed preparations one more time, as he reached the medbay, making it two steps in before a jarring sense of wrongness swept over him. He froze, gaze jerked towards the bacta tank where Obi-Wan had been floating, last he checked, and--

“They took him,” Bones said, fast, coming forward and gripping Cody’s arms, his expression distraught, openly so. “Sir, they took him, the droids had orders and Crys and--”

“To Skywalker?” Cody asked, hoping that - maybe - the answer was no. That maybe they’d just dragged him to his cell. That would make everything so much easier. Cody planned to keep Obi-Wan away from Skywalker’s execution, if at all possible. 

Obi-Wan had loved the man Skywalker had been, once. He didn’t need to see what Cody was going to do to him.

“Yes,” Bones said, sounding gutted. “What are we going to--”

“How many of us are still chipped?” Cody asked, feeling something cold settle across him, ice itself moving through his veins. There was no more time to wait, then. He’d already failed his promise not to let Skywalker touch Obi-Wan again, but-- Running off immediately wasn’t going to serve any of them.

He needed to set everything into motion. Then he’d run off.

“Less than a dozen,” Bones said, “but it’ll take me hours--”

“Order them to board the ship,” Cody cut in. There wasn’t time to waste on explanations and fretting. “Tell them I’ve ordered general quarters. Lock them in. We’ll deal with them later. I want them out of here now, before anyone can start issuing orders. You’re to stay on the ship with them. Get the medbay made ready. We’re not getting out of this without injuries.”

“Yes, sir,” Bones said, nodding, and turned, just like that, motions suddenly calm and controlled. They’d all been waiting for this such a long time, Cody knew. He certainly had.

He turned on his heel, walking out of the room, ignoring the droids watching them curiously. A few droids were no longer a concern. They wouldn’t be able to get word to Skywalker, anyway. Not if he were - were distracting himself with Obi-Wan again.

Cold fire spread in Cody’s gut as he walked. He’d almost made it to the barracks when an order came over the comm in his ear. It seemed he was wanted, immediately, in Skywalker’s throne room.

He could guess at why, and grinned, small and tight. Skywalker would invite him in, would not even be startled when Cody showed up, because Skywalker had called him. Made it easy, over confident and sure he was in utter control. The throne room was more of a problem than his private chambers. There were automated defenses in there. But Cody had prepared for this eventuality. His knuckles itched.

Cody continued to the barracks and gestured, silently, when he stepped inside. The few of his brothers still under the control of the thing in their heads never even looked up, never saw the signs Cody sketched through the air.

The rest of them, those freed, those ready to fight, stood with grim, determined looks, checking their blasters and straightening their armor. Cody looked over all of them, heart beating steady and sure in his chest, and nodded. They were as ready as they were ever going to be. And he was so tired of waiting. He marched through the halls, men falling in at his back, without a word or hesitation.

He gestured again as they reached Skywalker’s throne room. His brothers nodded, spreading out, pressed to the walls, blasters drawn, ready and waiting, as he blanked his expression and waved the door open, stepping in to get a look at the exact situation they were dealing with before he called in all his back-up. 

The throne room smelled like blood and the poisoned, volcanic air from outside, in a way that dropped the bottom out of Cody’s stomach. The room was brightly lit, not even the brief mercy of shadows there to hide the sights that awaited.

Obi-Wan was there, and Cody’s heart ached to see him. He was kneeling on the floor, head down, beside Skywalker, who was sitting on that throne of his, the ugly, brutal shape of it looming through the smoke that had been allowed to billow into the room. Cody resisted looking towards the open window, an itching sense of anticipation in his bones.

Skywalker had his legs crossed, a chain wound around one hand, connected to the collar at Obi-Wan’s throat. Obi-Wan’s right arm hung limp by his side, unbond. Cody swallowed bile, the abbreviated end of Obi-Wan’s left arm a condemnation, another way he’d failed, and he’d--

“Come here,” Skywalker ordered, voice a boom, and Cody remembered when he’d sounded like a boy, those first few months of the war. That boy had grown into a monster. Cody wished, absently, that he’d killed Skywalker long ago. Years ago. If only he’d known.

He walked forward, assessing the situation. Some of his brothers were already in the room. But that wasn’t a surprise. Skywalker liked to keep guards around, and perhaps he intended to force Cody to kill them. Or, Cody considered, eyeing the blasters they already held, perhaps they were to be his executioners.

They were all but two of them awake.

He hoped Skywalker enjoyed the surprise he was about to get. It had been far too long in coming.

Cody came to a stop in front of the throne, staring forward, waiting for the perfect moment, and Obi-Wan hitched in a breath, rasping - his voice was still barely a whisper, strained and hoarse, “Please, please, don’t--”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” Vader snapped, jerking on the chain, and Cody’s hands tightened into fists. He fought to keep his emotions calm and still. “I told you,” Skywalker continued, after a moment, “that 2224 has been experiencing defects. I think it’s time we resolved that.”

Cody watched Obi-Wan go still, strangely and totally. Centering himself, Cody realized. Preparing for something. 

“I know how I’d prefer to handle the execution. We could see how long it would take, if you like,” Skywalker continued, voice thrumming with implications. “But you could, perhaps, convince me to make it painless.” He tugged on the chain, again, jerking Obi-Wan forward against his legs, even as he uncrossed them, and Cody was going to--

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Obi-Wan said, before Cody could signal the other troopers, sliding his hand up Vader’s leg, and there was no more time to wait because Cody wasn’t letting this happen again. Never again. Never--

He made a sign, sharp and short, by his hip, and everything went mad, all at once.

Vader made a harsh, furious sound, standing and throwing Obi-Wan back, viciously. Cody blinked, because there was a flash of red, and for a moment, Cody thought that Vader had drawn his lightsaber and killed Obi-Wan and--

The red went with Obi-Wan, who hit the ground, rolled, and came up on one knee, glowing lightsaber in hand and blood streaking down his chin as he rasped, “You’re not going to hurt them, ever again, Anakin.”

That was when the first explosions started going off, right on schedule.

It was when Vader roared an order to kill him. 

And it was when his two chipped brothers opened fire.

#

Vader told Obi-Wan, when he was dragged in and dumped across the ground, that he had a special treat planned. He enjoyed the way Obi-Wan shuddered at the words, the way his emotions tangled and warped, dread and even still some scraps of determination threading through him.

Obi-Wan still thought he had a chance, even after everything. Even after Anakin had taken his arm - and he thought, perhaps, after he handled 2224, he’d take a leg, make Obi-Wan see exactly what he’d done, make him live it. He was going to undo Obi-Wan, utterly. It simply might take longer than he’d first hoped.

In any case, wrapping Obi-Wan’s chain around his hand and dragging him closer had settled some of the anger left behind by Tarkin’s visit. Obi-Wan still moved like he was hurt inside, carefully, a soft sound punching out of him as Vader dragged him into place.

He considered, for a moment, that something should be done about Obi-Wan’s right arm. There was no easy way to restrain it, though, and anyway, what was he going to do? The collar around his neck prevented him from acting against Vader’s will. And, if that failed, well…

There were troopers in the room. They’d proven so effective at getting Obi-Wan to listen. Just the threat of their deaths was more than enough to have Obi-Wan begging for mercy he wasn’t going to receive. A few executions were a good way to remind Obi-Wan of who was in control.

Still, Vader planned only one such execution for the evening. He’d grown tired of seeing 2224’s face around the base. He had a sneaking suspicion that Obi-Wan was thinking about the defective damn thing, that, even when he was with Vader, his thoughts were elsewhere. Another betrayal.

Besides, 2224 deserved to die for everything it had done during the war, for taking Obi-Wan’s focus away, distracting him.

Vader called it in, sitting back on his throne and relaxing. Tarkin had gone. He had Obi-Wan. He’d soon be rid of 2224. He’d gotten what he wanted and shuddered, just for a moment, at the way the realization left him feeling strange and hollow. 

He focused on the twist and ache of Obi-Wan’s emotions as 2224 marched in to face its execution. Obi-Wan’s agony was so rich, so complex. He hadn’t hurt nearly so much when Vader took his arm. That had just been… pain. Physical. Fleeting. The way he split open as Vader told him exactly what was going to happen to 2224 was so much thicker. Choking. Spilling into the Force.

Vader’s mouth twitched behind his helmet - it was wrong that Obi-Wan cared so much about some thing, a clone, anything that wasn’t him - and he jerked on the chain, only slightly mollified when Obi-Wan slid a hand up his leg.

How many times had he thought about Obi-Wan touching him like this? Obi-Wan kneeling between his spread legs, head bent forward, focused on making him feel good? They should have had this before, Padmé would have understood, Vader could have made her understand.

His respiration quickened with anticipation. He knew exactly when he planned to order 2224 executed. He’d order it to kill itself, he decided, after making it watch. After he had Obi-Wan’s mouth on him, after--

His sweet musings were interrupted when Obi-Wan’s emotions shifted, all at once, agony and grief peeling away to reveal something cool and calm and flat. He jerked at the same instant he felt Obi-Wan’s fingers curl around his lightsaber, and--

Vader shoved him back, immediately, with the Force, the saber activating even as he tossed Obi-Wan across the room. A second later and it would have carved up through his gut. Obi-Wan had activated it while it was pressed close to his skin, had intended to kill him and--

Fury and betrayal swirled through Vader’s mind as he lurched to his feet, drawing the Force around him, watching Obi-Wan grip his lightsaber, the red blade glowing across his skin, his eyes fierce and blue, sharp all of a sudden, all the misery he’d worn just pulled away, like a mask, like they’d been put-on, which was impossible.

Vader snarled, reaching for the controls for the collar, and the ground shook under him. Around the room the troopers were moving, suddenly, opening fire on 2224, who jerked away, impossibly, he should have stayed where he was, unmoving, not fired back at them, grunting when a blaster shot caught him in his side before some of the other troopers opened fire, taking out each other, not--

Vader didn’t understand what was happening. It didn’t matter. He moved to activate the controls, to bring Obi-Wan to heel, and 2224 said, “Skywalker.”

Vader blinked, surprise making him look over, sure he’d misheard and--

“For Trip,” 2224 said, calm and flat, as he shot the controls on Vader’s arm, sparks jumping out of the suit even as the rest of the troopers not on the ground opened fire on him. Vader roared in fury, unsure how Obi-Wan had managed this, how he’d managed to corrupt the clones’ programming, but none of that mattered.

Vader could figure that out later. After they were all dead. He lashed out with the Force, throwing them back, lifting three of them into the air at once, grip choking around their throats. He would kill them, oh yes. All of them, one after another, the entire 212th, ending with Obi-Wan. He’d make Obi-Wan watch each of them die, make sure he couldn’t look away, make sure--

He tightened his grip in the Force and made a hoarse, surprised sound when the troopers fell, anyway, his power pulled apart. The Force shifted in the room, swelling up, sweet and sharp, and he looked over, confusion coursing through him, to find Obi-Wan on his feet, saber shaking, breathing hard, what remained of his left arm stretched out.

“I won’t let you hurt them. Ever again,” Obi-Wan panted, eyes blazing, power coursing out of him, holding Vader back, which was impossible. Obi-Wan had ever been able to match him, but Vader had taken care of that, restrained him-- 

And the collar lay on the floor, twisted, the edges still smoking faintly from the blade of his saber. Vader snarled, moving towards Obi-Wan, fury building in his bones, all his focus on his old master. Blaster bolts hit across his shoulders and back, his chest, deflected by all the shielding in his suit, and then there was another explosion, closer, rocking the room.

Sparks jumped inside his systems, when it hit, a few warnings going off and silencing at once. His respiratory system stopped responding; as did his cardiac. The next blaster bolt hit true, and he stumbled back a step, and then another, as more bolts hit him. 

He needed to get out, get away from this madness. Institute repairs. His chest split with agony as his heart struggled to keep beating without mechanical support. He wheezed, gasping for breath inside his helmet, driven back further, until he hit the wall, gripping at the edge of the window.

“No!” he panted, raising one hand, rage and sharp fear echoing through him, allowing him to pull hard on the Force. He lashed out at Obi-Wan, the source of all of this trouble, and heard him cry out, sharply, as half the room came down in the grip of Vader’s power.

Stone and rock spilled across the floor, choking dust swirling through the air, giving Vader a moment to sway, his access to the Force no longer so restrained. Everything hurt. He didn’t - it was impossible. There were alarms going off, everywhere, and no one had come to help him. He hurt. He’d--this was all wrong. Impossible and wrong. 

He looked around, as the air currents rising off of the lava moved through the room, clearing some of the smoke. He found cold, furious faces everywhere, and Obi-Wan, up on one knee, somehow, looking up at him with his shining blue eyes, saber dropped so he could extend his right hand, shaking with the effort of restraining Vader’s use of the Force. 

The troopers opened fire on him, all at once and it - his suit wasn’t working properly. He felt each impact, terrible.

“Master!” he wailed, unable to breathe, heart stuttering, tripping, because Obi-Wan had so many weak spots and he knew he was one of them. Obi-Wan wouldn’t let them actually kill him. It wasn’t the Jedi way, after all.

A blaster shot caught him dead center in his helmet, shoving him back, almost over-balancing him. “For Dart,” 2224 said, flat, as Vader gripped at the edge of the open window. 2224 stared at him, his eyes dark and terrible even as he bled from the blaster wound in his side, even as he made a sharp sign with his hand and the blaster fire stopped. “For all our brothers.”

Vader gasped, choking, planning to take advantage of their foolish mercy. He started, “Obi-Wan--”

And 2224 said, “Yes,” grimly. “For Obi-Wan.” And he pulled the trigger once more, stepped forward while Vader was reeling, and kicked him, impossible force behind the blow. Vader made a sound, heard it echo in his helmet, as he overbalanced, grabbing for the edge of the window and missing and--

#

Cody leaned out over the side of the window, listening to further explosions go off, exactly as they should have. The EMP had worked well, he thought. A nice touch. It would have been enough to take Skywalker out, even without Obi-Wan’s help.

But Obi-Wan’s help meant they hadn’t lost more men, and--and that split something open, inside Cody’s chest. Obi-Wan had still fought for them. After everything, he’d tried to put himself between them and Skywalker.

And so Cody stared down into the lava, so far below, watching as it closed over Vader’s head, his one outstretched hand. He ignored the pain in his side, hot and cold at the same time, and the feel of blood sliding across his skin. The shot had gone clean through and he knew he was losing blood, lots of it.

It didn’t feel terribly important, at the moment. “Sir?” Crys asked, stepping up beside him, blaster still in hand. “Did you get visual confirmation?”

Cody spat over the edge, turned away, and said, “Yes. He’s dead. Let’s go.”

They weren’t done.

Not yet.

He’d killed Skywalker. He’d freed most of his brothers and the rest were going to be sorted. All that was left, he considered, turning away from the fire, was getting Obi-Wan out of here. Making him safe and never letting anyone hurt him, ever again.

#whumptober2020 #no.5 #rescue #clone wars #fic #torture #mentions of non con #mentions of suicide #character death #loss of a limb #mistreatment of prisoners #mind control #oof!au #my writing #codywan #vaderwan #please heed the warnings #i've been waiting for this part for so long

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober2020 - Day 5

We’re right around the halfway point for the oof!au as of today! Life continues to be awful for Obi-Wan and the 212th. All general warnings still apply. Specific to today’s entry: strangulation (with the Force), torture, mistreatment of prisoners, brief mention of non-con, branding. Still jumping around with the prompts.

Oof!au basic information: Post-Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

Obi-Wan stared across at the wall in his cell for a long time, after the med-droids pulled him from the bacta. He had not thought while submerged in the tank. It had been a relief. All his memories were waiting for him as he came back to consciousness, every burning moment of them.

There was no way to pretend, even for a moment, that it had not happened. The brands across his back pulled each time he tried to move, remaining even after the bacta treatment. He could not see the marks well, not even with his arms free, as they were most of the time in his cell. He shuddered to think what Anakin had burned into his skin, what marks he would bear, for however long he remained alive.

He had known, when he antagonized Anakin, that the results were unlikely to be.... Pleasant. But he’d had no choice. Allowing Anakin to consider too long Padmé’s fate, the fate of his children…. It risked too much. The safety of the children first and foremost.

There was comfort in imagining Luke and Leia safe. Far away from the violence of their father. Obi-Wan would keep himself between them and the rage burning within Anakin, until it consumed him outright. He could keep Anakin distracted, keep his thoughts away from the children, from everyone who needed protection. Obi-Wan knew he could continue making Anakin angry. It had never been a difficult task, and it was significantly easier at the moment.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again, because there was nothing he wanted to see in the dark of his own mind. He’d been aware of Anakin’s….occasionally lustful thoughts for years, since even before Anakin had been Knighted. Anakin had watched him. Wanted him. But he’d never imagined Anakin would--

Well. There were so many things he’d never imagined Anakin would do. Forcing his way into Obi-Wan’s body was hardly the foulest of his actions of late. Compared to genocide, it barely counted, he thought, laughing alone in his empty, barren cell. The alternative was weeping, and he wouldn’t do that.

He knew well enough he was being monitored, ever and always.

It was strange, he considered, absently. He’d felt like a sleep-walker for years, living on Tatooine. He’d gone through the motions of living, a part of him stuck and held back on Mustafar, in that awful instant when he had turned and walked away from Anakin, all of his failures curdling in him.

Obi-Wan felt awake and like himself again, sitting in a cell, subjected to one hurt after another. He knew how to handle torture, knew only one way to deal with it, and it felt natural to fall back into sharp, ill-advised words, to goad his captor, controlling them without them ever realizing what he was doing, to feel almost… confident that he would escape.

He always had before, after all.

He needed to balance himself, if there was to be an escape. Needed to prepare for whatever Anakin intended to do to him next. Luke and Leia were depending upon him, after all. There was no way to reach out and touch the Force, no way to draw comfort from his connection to the universe. There’d not been much comfort there, of late, anyway.

He leaned his head against the wall, stared at nothing, and tried to focus on breathing exercises. He told himself, eventually, that he started to feel better.

#

Anakin left him alone, for days. Long enough that Obi-Wan suspected he’d been called away on some other mission, dancing to the whims of his Master. There was no way to adequately track the days in that featureless cell.

Troopers brought him food, sometimes. Well, they brought him nutrition, anyway, some kind of mush that was grey-ish brown in color, contained in a tube. One of them would hold his hair and jaw while the other forced it into his mouth, giving him no choice but to swallow or choke.

They always dragged his arms back and bound them, first, forcing him face-down against the cold floor, before pulling him upright once more, like he was little more than a sack of cargo.

“Delicious, as always,” he rasped, after they finished one day, specks of whatever the food was caught across his chin. It tasted vaguely of dirt and always set heavily in his stomach. They did not reply, they didn’t even look at him, his men who had been--

Been turned off, inside. Not even their expressions changed, as far as he ever saw. They were blank-eyed marionettes. Like droids, except droids had personality, even with a control bolt. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, his throat tight and pinched closed, wondering if all of the troopers had suffered the same fate; if they’d all been killed, for all that their bodies continued walking around. He’d grieved for his people, for the Jedi, after the genocide…

He hadn’t realized that he had the eradication of two entire peoples to mourn. “Alzo. Booster,” he said, because someone had to remember their names for them, had to remember who they had been, now that they’d had their identities taken away. He supposed he might be the last person in the galaxy who both could and would. “I’m so sorry. For what they did to you.”

Alzo didn’t turn or hesitate as he walked through the door. Obi-Wan thought Booster did, thought he froze, for just an instant, but… Well. He knew he was looking for shreds of hope, regardless of whether or not they actually existed. 

#

The troopers cared for his other physical needs on a sporadic basis. Sometimes they dragged in a hose and sprayed him down, the water icy cold and stinging across his skin. The pressure was so high that he had to turn his shoulders against it, but at least it cleaned him off.

Sometimes, they held him in place and shaved his face, uncareful with the razor. They did not trim his hair; it grew down over the tops of his ears, lower, shaggy. He doubted he’d recognize himself, without a beard and with such tangled hair, but that mattered little. There were no mirrors, in his little cage.

There was nothing at all to offer a distraction, just his healing wounds and the weight of wondering what Anakin had planned for him, next.

#

Obi-Wan felt almost certain weeks had passed by the time the troopers dragged him from his cell again. He’d gotten familiar with the walk through the halls of Anakin’s mountain fastness, to his throne room. He made absent conversation as they walked, the utter silence of his companions a weight in his chest.

They seemed to have grown used to his chatter. Or, at least, they no longer struck him for it. Perhaps Anakin had reprogrammed them.

Considering that option distracted him, if nothing else, from what he could guess was coming. Anakin waited already in the room for him, sitting on his throne, one leg crossed over the other, expression hidden behind his dark mask.

He was speaking to Cody, as Obi-Wan was dragged in, Cody standing there at attention before him, straight-backed and blank-faced and-- It was all wrong, all of it, even just catching the end of a conversation where Cody reported what had happened in Anakin’s absence. Obi-Wan wondered, fleetingly, if Anakin really left Cody in charge, if it were only another barb, meant to cut into Obi-Wan.

The...harness they’d chained Obi-Wan to last time remained where it was. It pulled at his attention, heavy as gravity. Obi-Wan fought to control his expression as Anakin stood and said, “Restrain him.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Obi-Wan said, speaking as Cody walked over to him, though he expected no answer. He fully anticipated that he would be ignored utterly, and so he was not disappointed as his arms and legs were dragged into position.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I don’t have to do this, either?” Anakin said, the mechanical sound of his voice still jarring and wrong. He’d stood and crossed the room, apparently, staying behind Obi-Wan’s back. 

“Would it do me any good?” Obi-Wan asked, as the wall-covering raised across the room, revealing the fires of Mustafar, so far below. The lava fell in the distance, leaving Obi-Wan feeling cold.

“No,” Anakin said, leather-covered fingers trailing across the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’m no longer swayed by your lies.”

“I’m not the one lying,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin snarled behind him, stepping away. Obi-Wan felt the heat when the furnace opened. He wondered how much of his skin Anakin intended to burn this time. He kept talking, because he knew no other way to be, “Successfully murder anyone for your new master?”

The pain was sudden and swift, directly over his spine, the metal so hot it felt almost cold as ice, at first, tendrils of agony spreading everywhere. “I protected the Empire,” Anakin snapped, leaning his weight against the brand, “I made people safer! Secure!”

The brand came off his skin, though it really changed nothing about the level of his pain. He listened to the metal clatter across stone, considering, bitterly, that once he would have hoped desperately for Anakin to find him, in this situation. Once, he would have held out hope that Anakin - above all others - would rescue him.

He said, around the bitterness in his throat, “Ah. The way you made our people safer?”

“The Jedi weren’t my people,” Anakin snarled back and - and the next burn was higher, still on his spine, a blaze of agony. “They were nothing but a corrupt cult. Religious fanatics who went power mad during the war. They were traitors--”

“Traitors to what?” Obi-Wan cut in, the lies pouring from Anakin’s mouth too much for him to take. He panted, twisting his wrists against the bonds, body shaking as Anakin pressed a fresh brand to his skin and it hurt, Force--

“To the Republic,” Anakin spat, and Obi-Wan laughed, shakily.

“Oh,” he gasped, his thoughts getting sharper with pain, “the Republic you destroyed? That Republic, or do you mean--”

“Shut up!” Anakin snarled, and made his point by curling tendrils of the Force around Obi-Wan’s throat, squeezing. Obi-Wan sipped at the air, unable to breathe deeply, feeling his pulse pounding against his skin, giving a strangled cry as Anakin burned him again, Force, he’d almost reached Obi-Wan’s neck--

“The Jedi betrayed the galaxy. They were dangerous. Self-centered. Even before the war, they - they only cared about themselves. But I saw through them, with the help of my new Master. And - and we stopped them. We gave the Jedi exactly what they deserved, Obi-Wan. Just like you’re getting what you deserve.”

He released his choking grip, finally, and Obi-Wan slumped, gulping at the air, smelling the burned char of his own flesh, shivering all over and unable to stop it. He’d gone into shock, he knew. There was no way to avoid it without the Force to draw on, the tell-tale signs of it a betrayal by his own body.

He thought how fortunate it was that he seemed to have set Anakin off on a speech, one that did not require further input from anyone else. “It was right, what I did,” Anakin was shouting, pacing, by the sound of his voice, no longer right at Obi-Wan’s back, “Necessary. And - and my success proves that the Jedi deserved it. The Force smiled upon me. Blessed my purpose. It was the will of the Force. Their - their death proves that.”

Something shifted in Obi-Wan, beyond the pain, beyond the numb horror of the past years. Something that had always been within him, a fierce little ball of whatever made up his soul, stirring his tongue, knowing it would drag Anakin’s attention back, knowing it would mean more pain…

“By your logic,” he panted, inhaling the smell of char and ruin, unable to stay silent while Anakin deluded himself even further, “I suppose that means what happened to your mother was the will of the Force.”

There was a moment of utter silence. Utter stillness. Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched up in one corner as he stared out into the falling lava, bracing with a jagged grin.

Anakin snarled, something low and deadly in his tone, “What did you just say?”

Obi-Wan wetted his bottom lip, unblinking, deliberate in each word he spoke. “I said: you must believe, then, that the successful murder of your mother proved that she deserved--”

Anakin made an awful sound, bestial, and something gripped around Obi-Wan’s throat, his mouth, the Force digging into bone and muscle. “Take it back!” Anakin roared, even as the shackles around Obi-Wan’s wrists tore open, pried apart with the Force.

Obi-Wan slumped, opening his mouth to refuse, but no sounds issued from his throat, Anakin’s grip only tightening, crushing things--

“I said: take it back!” Anakin snarled, grabbing his shoulder, jerking him around and the first blow caught Obi-Wan by surprise, spinning him and dropping him to the ground. Anakin followed, fingers in his hair, tilting his face up into another blow.

“How dare you!” Anakin spat, following one blow with another and Obi-Wan lost track, the impact of metal against flesh felt almost like it was happening to someone else, someone far away from him, Anakin’s continued demands that he apologize, that he recant everything, take back his lies, were barely even noticed.

He could not speak anyway. Anakin was… crushing things. In his throat. Tearing them to pieces. He could not make a sound, not as Anakin bodily lifted him, throwing him against the stockade, pressing him into the sharp edges of the metal, and all the pain blended together into one huge, twisting nightmare.

Eventually, the dark reached up and took him away, even while Anakin was still thrusting into him. 

Obi-Wan fell into the black and appreciated the relief.

#

Obi-Wan woke up in his cell, most of the hurts gone. For a moment, after waking, he considered that perhaps he’d only dreamed his last run-in with Anakin. But his throat hurt, still, strange and deep. He cleared it and tried to rasp out a “hello” to no one. He made no sound at all, and shuddered.

He did not bother trying to leverage himself up off of the floor. He lacked the energy for it.

He wondered, smelling bacta drying in his hair, why Anakin had simply not killed him.

He was still wondering when Tich and Sweeper brought his breakfast. Obi-Wan nodded at them, old habit, since he could not offer a proper greeting. They alternated his care, the men on the base. Obi-Wan believed there to be around three-dozen of them, but… Some had disappeared, since he’d been delivered.

He shuddered to think what had happened to them.

Tich and Sweeper shackled him and hauled him up, pushing his shoulders against the wall. He leaned against Tich’s hand, when Tich gripped his jaw, helpless to stop himself looking for some scrap of comfort, and Tich’s index finger tapped, blaster-fire fast, against his cheek.

He wanted to say: I tried to ask for help, but trying to speak at all was a fresh agony. He winced, used to the fingers in his hair by now, and said nothing. They wouldn’t have done anything, anyway, even if he’d been able to plead for assistance.

And so Obi-Wan just stared forward, waiting for whatever they were going to do to him next.

#

Days passed. Vader had him dragged in and dragged out, but seemed to grow irritated and distracted when he realized that Obi-Wan could not speak. It took… significant effort before Vader believed that Obi-Wan was not just refusing to make a sound. Once he did, Vader ordered the troopers to take him back to the medical bay, for repairs.

Obi-Wan laughed soundlessly as he was dragged along. He’d always assumed Anakin would be pleased to never have to listen to him again. There was something amusing, darkly, about Anakin’s drive to return his voice.

Perhaps it was only because he hadn’t yet heard Obi-Wan screaming.

Nor would he, even if Obi-Wan’s voice were returned. Those thoughts chased each other around Obi-Wan’s head as they got closer and closer to the medbay. He hung between Cody and Booster, too damaged to walk under his own power, his legs giving finally halfway down the hall.

And it was a surprise, strange and jarring, when Cody hesitated and then shifted, movements oddly fluid for how stiff he normally moved, and just… lifted him. Cody had carried him off of battlefields before, too many times.

He’d joked, towards the end of the war, that it was getting to be a habit.

Perhaps it had. Perhaps it was muscle memory, the way Cody just pulled him up. It certainly was habit that had Obi-Wan dropping his head onto Cody’s shoulder, taking comfort in the familiarity of the contact, his eyes burning, all at once.

He wept not in front of Anakin. Wouldn’t. But the tears streaked down his face, unheeded, as Cody carried him into the medbay, finger tapping erratically against Obi-Wan’s skin. And Obi-Wan wanted to tell him it was alright, that Obi-Wan would find a way to get them all free, but he had no voice, no way to speak the words into being.

#whumptober #no.24 #forced mutism #clone wars #fic #non-con #non-explicit #branding #strangulation #torture #my writing #oof!au #codywan #vaderwan #troopers trying very hard to wake up

[glimmerglanger]

Okay about the whole king and fake concubine thing. My brain read it and I just... What if Anakin was the King, and Cody was the fake concubine. (But like, actually fake no pining.)

Creep/advisor Palpatine has been subtly blocking any promotions of clones, and Anakin is just so fed up with having all this damn paperwork, and the strategy meeting are <i>endless</i>.

So he begs Rex for help, and Rex panics and throws Cody under the bus. Cody has had it up to here with these idiots, but anything to help win this damn war faster.

The thing is though, THE THING IS, Anakin decides they can't tell anybody. Including his Advisor/Older brother/whatever Obi-Wan. Becauae uptight "regulations are there for a reason, Anakin" would totally have a problem with these shenanigans.

So Obi-Wan's commander gets transfered out from under him, and nobody will tell him why. And he's silently fuming about having to waste time at this stupid strategy meeting (him and Cody could come up with better in 10 minutes).

And he walks in, and there's Cody. Dressed like a concubine. Sitting in Anakin's lap (Cody wasn’t thrilled to discover it's a lot easier to whisper ideas like this.)

And now I just want to know your ideas for the whole thing I guess, because you're amazing and all of your work is lovely.

Also I just created a tumblr and am trying to figure this out, sorry for any blunders. Oh, and I need to say Okay for public? I think?

Oooooooooooooh! Obi-Wan is like... a General in Anakin’s army? Maybe THE General, in this au? (Little does Anakin know that Obi-Wan lives on shenanigans of one kind or another...) I am also DELIGHTED by little brother Rex just being like... uh uh uh you should pick Cody. Yes. He can help you with this. :D

Welcome to tumblrhood! I’m so glad to hear from you!

A FEW MORE KING/CONCUBINE ANSWERS BELOW THE CUT

Anonymous said:

Gonna just uhh, throw my hat in for Obikin. lol sorry but yES concubine/consort Anakin. The potential... listen, we all know you like sub!Obi, and just the thought of him being an astounding leader with a steady command, only to melt under Anakin's touch the second they're alone? Anakin placing a discreetly possessive hand on him in public? Obi-Wan breaking down in private for the first time in Anakin's presence, and to his utter shock Anakin is able to pick up the pieces?? Falling in love??? ->

Anonymous said:

-> Anywho, your thoughts-in-tags are TRAPS and I am happy to fall into them lol! Don't mind me, I'll just be imagining for days now xD

itsatrap.png :D A slow-burn where everyone else THINKS they’re already together is one of my favorite things. There’s something so pleasing about the dramatic...irony? Of such a thing. Everyone outside of their relationship making all kinds of assumptions (that they feed) while they slowly get closer....

Anonymous said:

anakin as a clumsy young ruler and Obi-Wan a captain who was forcibly retired for false reasons or purposeful injury by anakins advisor counsel head (palp) but anakin just cannot bear losing him and keeps him as Favorite Concubine and as an advisor but they don't actually have a sexual or romantic relationship bc Anakin thinks Obi-Wan is in love with the new knight captain Cody and Obi-Wan thinks Anakin is in love with his arranged bride Queen Padme (anakin covers for her so she can be w satine)

Anonymous said:

hello 4got to mention satine and padme cannot marry bc it would be seen as taking sides in the War and mandalore is strictly neutral and anakin is cool w bearding because its true love, obviously, and he Understands the tragedy of wanting someone others say you cannot have...

OH PADME/SATINE, love that appearing, that pairing always makes me go all heart-eyes. Anakin pining away while married and also with the person he’s pining for as his head concubine is, really, peak Anakin, too, Force love him. Throwing some hints of Codywan in there, too...? (I’m open to go to ot3 town with this prompt, hmmm)

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #many king and concubine aus #:D

[glimmerglanger]

(Ok to post) I just want to say that your vibes are very nice. Like,, they’re a mix of relaxing, comforting, chill, fun and definitely a person I’d want to hang around. Idk where I get this idea but just reading your writing and browsing your blog gives me this idea I guess

:D Thank you! I try to be those things. Happy New Years, also!

Anonymous said:

(Okay for public) I have a very random question. I just read Excess and Abscence again and it’s still so well done and sad. I can’t help but wonder, did Cody ever offhandedly mention such memories to Obi wan? I imagine Obi wan was horrified by what Kamino was like.

Ooooooh, I bet that he does, yes. Sometime late in the war, after they’ve gotten comfortable with each other, just exchanging old stories. And by that point, Obi-Wan already has a pretty good idea of the shit the Kaminoans and the trainers did to the troopers, but...

He can only listen and maybe it reminds him of the Great Sea of Bandomeer (but he’s not going to bring his past into this discussion) as they lean against each other and speak quietly of the past that Cody managed to survive....

ALSO ALSO a nice-sized Halo explanation, under the cut!

Anonymous said:

I live for anything Codywan but I am 👀 @ Halo AU. Re: Cortana in the lore, she’s a ‘smart’ AI which means she’s an imprint from a scientist’s cloned brain. Said scientist was the project leader behind the creation of the Spartans, which involved kidnapping kids that had desirable traits, training + augmenting them to be super soldiers. Spartans are meant to fight human rebels, but then Coventant turned up. Halo rings will wipe out all life in the universe to contain the Flood (different aliens)

Anonymous said:

Beyond Halo 3, I don’t know what has been added or changed to the lore. But most of Halo is MC/humanity trying to stop the Covenant from activating the rings. The rings are central to their religion and some prophecy? They don’t realise that they’ll kill everyone (or maybe the Prophets do, I can’t remember). Arbiter and his species (Elites) defect from the Covenant when they realise what’s going on. Also AI can eventually degrade and go rampant/mad, which happens to Cortana in the later games

Anonymous said:

Oh! When they kidnap the kids for the Spartan program, they replace them with flash clones of them that have a short-life and die soon after, so the families have no idea that their kids have been taken. Cloning in Halo is like, they can make replacement organs just fine but full cloned entities don’t live long. ‘Dumb’ AI aren’t based off people but they are kinda limited in capacity, ‘smart’ AI are fully personable and very powerful/complex but run the risk of rampancy the longer they operate

Anonymous said:

think there’s a lot of similarity between Spartans and SW clones in the way they’ve been raised purely for war and lots of dubious experimentation. There’s only a handful of Spartan IIs like Master Chief, not all the augments took, some were died and others crippled by the process. IIRC Spartan IIIs were war orphans turned into soldiers, also augmented but there were things like one couldn’t feel pain even though they were mortally wounded? I’m less clearer on the details for the Spartan IIIs.

Ooooooooooooh! Thank you for the info. I am willing this au into existence. Possibly with new years energy?

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #au ideas? #maybe #HAPPY NEW YEARS