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You Speak Of Grace

Commander Cody Week Day 02 Origins [ @commandercodyweek ]

Pairing: Codywan

Summary: Cody is about to meet his new Jedi, but he will make sure his men are as prepared as they can be. Little does he know that Obi-Wan is anything but what he was expecting.

“Once more.” Cody’s voice rang out as the test alarms died away, eliciting a fresh wave of groans from the assembled clones. From behind his helmet, Cody glanced over the group, running through the list in his mind once again. The heavy gloves hid the faint trembling of his hands as his fingers danced over the datapad, drawing up another scenario. “Test Scenario 00726. Oya!”

Distantly, Cody could almost hear Alpha-17’s low rumbling laugh echo forth from his memory at their displays of grumbling compliance. He carefully ignored the brother at the back — Crys, he thought, judging from the bright yellow daubed over his pauldrons and the dark hair growing up through the unnatural yellow dye — who ducked behind a console and emerged after swallowing down the last dregs of his caf.

The consoles rang shrilly as they ran through the necessary checks once more, heads lowered as the other clones focused on their own work. Cody sensed movement just behind him, but didn’t turn, watching the grey painted shape of Helix, their medic, move up behind him in the reflection of a console.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Helix’s voice was soft but no less filled with purpose, expecting to be heard and understood. Cody was the Commander of the Battalion, but Helix was the medic, and that was something entirely different.

“Granted.”

Helix tapped the comm on his wrist, shifting to a private channel, and Cody stifled the reflexive twinge of fear that rattled down his spine. Fear was useful, Alpha-17 had barked at the younger clones in the Command Track, echoing the words of the trainers before him, but it was also dangerous. Drawing in a deep breath, letting it flow through him rather than rule his thoughts, Cody switched to the private channel as well.

“You are doing a good job,” Helix murmured, his voice slightly distorted over the comm. “You are already a good commander, and having a Jedi won’t change that.”

Cody didn’t respond, didn’t want to think about what Helix could read in the sudden stillness of his hands or the lines of tension that flickered into life along his shoulders, but merely nodded, his throat tight.

Helix lightly tapped the back of his wrist guard against Cody’s hip in a silent benediction. “I’m going to head down to medical. Over the next few days, I’ll need to check on the troopers and the Jedi to get a baseline.”

“I’ll draw up a rota,” Cody promised, adding yet another item onto his mental checklist. Dimly, he spared a thought for how his brothers in the command track were faring. Their own comms channel had been eerily quiet since they had received their battalion allocations and left in the early hours of the morning with one final message each of “Oya”.

“Appreciate it,” Helix said with an inclination of his head and stepped away. The other medics, Border and Patience, shadowed him like ghosts, barely half a step behind in a haunting unison that would have made the trainers proud.

Cody turned back to the men, tracking their progress as they worked through the machines, feeling a warm glow of pride settle in his chest. This would work. This had to work.

A warning prickled at the base of his skull, and Cody was already turning to face the doorway by the time his mind had drawn the context clues together.

As Helix left, his pace had slowed slightly, and the soft whoosh of the doors closing took longer than it should have. One of the troopers had raised his head, gaze fixed at something over Cody’s shoulder as one of his hands formed the beginning of the symbol for ‘Mother’, a warning of being watched back on Kamino. But the critical clue was the message flashing from the Command Track Chat from Bly that only read ‘oh no my Jedi’s hot.’

“Hello there.”

“Hello, sir,” Cody said, running on instinct as the rest of his mind went blissfully blank. The only information he had been given was a name and a grainy holo picture to recognise his Jedi by. A small thrill ran down his spine at that thought. Possession was still something all the clones were getting used to, and the knowledge that this man was his, was theirs, was more than Cody could have thought possible.

“Jetti on bridge,” Cody barked over his shoulder to the others, feeling the weight of their eyes on his back.

Obi-Wan smiled, the edges of his eyes — so unbelievably blue, like the point where the ocean met the sky — crinkling. “Please, Commander, call me Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody repeated with a nod, further committing it to memory. He was grateful for the helmet that was still covering his head as he felt the heat settle in his cheeks. Full armour was cumbersome for now, but it had been better to be safe than sorry.

“From what I understand, you have names as well?” Obi-Wan’s gaze darted around the room; his voice pitched low. “I don’t wish to cause any offence; this situation is very new to me.” He tucked his hands into his sleeves, clasping them in front of him.

“CC-2224 is my designation. But my name is Cody, sir.”

It was as if Cody’s words ripped the oxygen from the room, every trooper freezing in place in perfect military rest. Obi-Wan had to feel the pressure lowering onto his shoulders, but he merely grinned once more.

“Cody. That’s an excellent name and a good choice.” Obi-Wan paused, glancing around the room and meeting the gaze of every trooper who quickly lowered their heads back to their consoles at Cody’s signal.

“I trust I can count on you to keep me right, Cody? I will defer to your expertise.” Obi-Wan’s grin was as warm as sunlight, intoxicating when it was directed at just Cody, and he felt his cheeks burst with heat once more.

“Yessir,” Cody said, snapping back into parade rest out of habit.

“I’m not sure what the Kamioans have told you, but if you’re amenable, full armour outside of active combat isn’t required.” Obi-Wan paused with a heavy sigh, looking far older than he was for a moment before he pushed whatever memory it was away. “This isn’t my first war, but no need to make it harder than it needs to be.”

“So,” Cody swallowed, turning his head slightly to track Boil and Waxer’s whispering, their heads pressed together out of the corner of his eye, “Permission to dismiss the men to store their extras?”

“Permission more than granted, Commander.”

If Cody had thought that his mind went blank before, it was nothing compared to being alone on the bridge with Obi-Wan. In every scenario, every training simulation or exercise, nothing could have prepared him for this moment. Alpha-17 and the others took after Prime almost perfectly, and that applied to his lack of attraction as well, at best able to offer rough support to a heartbroken trooper in basic training.

Obi-Wan began to move around the bridge, glancing over the simulated manoeuvres that had been programmed in with a gleam of interest in his eyes. “If you want, Cody, you can store your belongings as well. We’re going to be working together for a while, and I see no reason to start out with extreme formality.”

Cody’s hands were steady as he reached up to remove his helmet, subtly pressing at the itch that had erupted two hours ago at the nape of his skull as he did so. Obi-Wan’s face softened as he watched him, unable to hide the obvious curiosity in his eyes.

“I can definitely see the resemblance.”

Cody laughed, the noise startled out of him, jaw snapping shut with a click.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he began, but Obi-Wan cut him off with a wave of his hand, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

“Please, don’t apologise, Cody. If there is anyone at fault, then it is me.”

“No, sir.” Cody paused to find the correct words, tapping his fingers against the edge of the datapad as he thought. This wasn’t what he had been expecting, Obi-Wan wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he always had been quick on his feet. “As you said, no reason to start out with extreme formality. No fault here.”

Obi-Wan hummed quietly as he thought, and Cody took a moment to inspect the Jedi he would be serving under. The robes hid much of his frame, but Obi-Wan had moved with confidence, despite the fact that the fabric wouldn’t give much protection or possibly act as a hindrance. Cody made another note on his mental list, needing to confer with the other Commanders once everyone had settled again.

“I think this is going to be an excellent partnership, Cody,” Obi-Wan said at last. “With that in mind, with the full reassurance that you can tell me no at any time for whatever reason, would you like to join me for a cup of tea? I believe there is some final paperwork to go over.”

“Yessir,” Cody answered before the full implication hit him. Obi-Wan would be sharing, even serving most likely, something precious of his, something he had deliberately chosen to bring aboard a battleship, knowing the cargo restrictions. “I’d be honoured.”

“Excellent! Anakin, my padawan—” Obi-Wan paused, and Cody wordlessly fell into pace at his side, a few inches shorter than the other man as he titled his head to continue watching him, “—he never quite got the taste for it, unfortunately.”

“I am looking forward to it, sir.”

Obi-Wan gave him a look, his grin all fond curled edges.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody corrected himself. He felt like a fool to hope, but it was a hope he held onto tightly.

Out of sight, Cody tapped a message into the Command Chat before silencing it, knowing the explosions it would spawn. ‘Mine’s better, vod.’

The Bad Batch/Star Wars Fanart Masterlist

Modern AU - Bad Batch

Pumpkin Carving

Movie Night

A Typical Morning

Soccer

Backyard Camping

Rex and Cody

Fall Outfits

Clone Cadets

Crosshair Alone

Winter Training

Tech - Rough Animation

Crosshair and Tech - Part 1

Crosshair and Tech - Part 2

Cadets Alt Outfits

De-Aged Comic

Tech Testing

Hunter Deprivation Tank

Cadet Train

Crosshair and Wrecker

Crying

Injured Crosshair

Art Challenges/Requests

Luke

Crosshair

Tech

Waxer and Numa

Rex

Kit Fisto

Fives and Echo

Omega and Nala Se

Last Doodle

Werewolf Batch

Werewolf Cadets

Sleep Piles

Wolffe

Celtic Cross and Echo

Character Art

Crosshair and the Kids

Eyes

Numa

Sleep Pile Sketch

Tech

Imperial Crosshair

Camping

Sick Omega

Crosshair and Tech

TBB Animation

Omega and Crosshair

Omega and Tech

Grown Up Omega

Echo

Screen redraw

Fanfiction Fanart

What it Means to be a Buir

These Silver Linings

Stick Together

Reblog if you think asexuality is a legitimate sexuality.

I’m trying to prove something.

I think for the glorious sake of confidentiality, I should probably spew my inner dialogue onto a piece of paper . Something solid. Something I can hold in my hand and be certain that it’s nowhere but-

My eyes

My head

My bones

My blood

Yes , yes I should probably do that . But my arm and fingers would almost certainly ache from all that there is to be said. 

All that could be said.

All that will be said.

Words can,In a sense be so freeing, yet equally so restricting?

I can only express with the pool of alphabetic combinations my mind is able to conjure. There are some things I may feel or think and simply not to be able to explain. Not able to cement it. Prophecize it. And so would more than likely dismiss it entirely. Because no matter how hard I may try to convey it- I could be in absolute shreds and still my body would only let out a sigh. are you finished? Is it over? Can we finally move on? Focus on being and seeing and feeling and thinking something more palatable? Something easier to swallow and digest? What exactly is the purpose of fretting over something that doesn’t bother making itself commutable?

Surely if it was meant to be understood

then

we’d have some semblance of a clue? no?

-𝘢𝘺𝘢 //𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦

Episode 5 spoilers!

Back in my thoughts again, you know the drill. A bit lengthy!!

I cannot stop thinking about this scene—how Steven clearly remembers that this was his room,

And how he remembers the exact thing he said during this part of the scene, which proves that he was, in fact, fronting for at least a couple seconds.

BUT. He doesn’t remember anything from this moment forward. That’s why he wanted to see what their mother did to them, and that’s why Marc was set on getting him out of the room before he saw something that would severely taint his memories and what he knew of their childhood. At the same time, Marc knows EXACTLY what happened.

I’m positive that Marc fronted at that moment because he didn’t want Steven to remember what truly happened. It’s his way of making up to Randall/RoRo, I would like to believe. He treats Steven like the younger brother that he lost when he was a child. The one who loved drawing the one finned fish. The one who was always eager for adventure. The one who was screaming for help back in the cave.

Remember? His mother explicitly stated:

“Marc, what do you do? Keep an eye on your brother, okay?” And Marc is set on fulfilling that promise to Steven.

Marc let Steven keep all the good memories, while he himself lived through all of the bad ones, just so that he could protect him from getting hurt and feeling pain. Steven, his alter, who he considers to be his little brother.

That’s the reason why Marc was so adamant about simply telling Steven what had happened in that room at the top of the flight of stairs, so Steven wouldn’t have to watch the memory play out in front of him. Seeing what happened would definitely hurt more than just knowing what happened. By telling Steven himself, he would have control over what he would reveal to him, and how he would tell him.

That’s why Marc’s first thought when waking up in the Asylum was Steven. That’s why Marc never complained about fronting right after Steven was pierced by the weapons back in Mogart’s. That’s why Marc probably set up a line for Steven to contact “his mother”, and why Marc replaced Gus with another fish. That’s why Marc didn’t want Steven finding out about him in the first place.

Marc spent most of his life protecting and saving Steven the way he wished he could’ve protected and saved Randall. I am literally bawling over this.

Also ending this with another appreciation for Oscar Isaac because he’s a damn legend for the breathtaking portrayal of Steven AND Marc. He better earn awards for this series or I will riot.

In every wood in every spring there is a different green.

The souls of the innocent...

Make sure to give the creator some love!!

i was told to close all my ao3 pages until the attack is over

i closed 317 of them

im going through withdrawals

Dying Words

 Written for @febuwhump​ Day 9: Buried Alive. TW for a person dying and suffering hypoxia, as well as descriptions of a small space. (Please keep in mind I am not a medical professional, I just googled hypoxia and did my best from there :) )

“Anakin! Anakin, come in!” Obi-Wan’s voice crackled through Anakin’s commlink. With a groan, Anakin lifted his wrist to his mouth, and coughed some of the dirt out of his lungs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here, Obi-Wan.” Where was here, exactly? he thought. Anakin fumbled for his lightsaber and ignited it, illuminating the enclosure he was in. It couldn’t be more than four feet tall, and it wasn’t even wide enough for him to extend his arms and legs fully. Well, he thought, at least Obi-Wan wasn’t the one who got trapped down here. 

“Obi-Wan, I’m trapped in a pretty small area, and I don’t think I can cut myself out. What’s the situation up there?” he asked. Obi-Wan hesitated before answering, which was never a good sign. 

“It’s not good, Anakin. The entire building seems to have collapsed on you. It will take some time before we can remove the rubble without causing another cave-in.” Anakin sighed, and settled into a more comfortable hunched over sitting position. He sighed. 

“Guess I’ll be here a while then.”

Obi-Wan chuckled across the line. “Yes, it appears so.” Minutes went by in silence, the only noise being the soft hum of his lightsaber. Anakin pulled his shirt away from his body. It was getting so hot down there.

“Hey, Obi-Wan, how’s it coming up there? It’s pretty warm down here.” 

“The equipment should be here shortly. Anakin, are you breathing all right? You sound like you’re panting.” Now that Obi-Wan pointed it out, his breathing was pretty heavy, and his heart seemed to be pounding more quickly than it should with him just sitting there. Through the comm, Anakin heard Obi-Wan call Helix over. They talked in hushed voices, and then Helix’s voice was coming through the comm.

“Hello, sir, just checking in. Is everything all right down there?” Anakin rolled his eyes, not that anyone could see. 

“I’m fine, Obi-Wan is just being a worry wart.” 

“Be that as it may, I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to answer honestly, alright sir?” Anakin knew better than to argue with the medics. 

“Okay, Helix.”

“Tell me if you’re experiencing any of these symptoms: sweating, coughing, elevated heart rate, difficulty breathing, or general confusion?” Anakin mulled it over for longer than he should have needed to. 

“Uh, actually, yes to all of those except for coughing, I think.” Obi-Wan’s breath hitched. “I’m fine though, promise.” Once again, Helix and Obi-Wan conversed in low enough tones that Anakin couldn’t make out what they were saying. A few moments later, Helix finally spoke.

“Sir, I think you are suffering from hypoxia. Sit tight, and don’t speak more than necessary. You need to conserve the oxygen you have.” Anakin felt his eyes widen. He wasn’t well versed in medical terminology, but even he knew that low oxygen was bad. And, he realized with a growing sense of dread, there was no way to get him out of there. 

“Anakin, we are going to get you out and you are going to be fine, don’t panic,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin realized his shields must have slipped, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Don’t lie to me, Obi-Wan,” he said in a quiet voice. Anakin hadn’t imagined he would go out by being buried alive, but here he was. The Force could work miracles sometimes, but it couldn’t magically provide him with oxygen, and there was really no way to get him out in time. “Obi-Wan-” he began, but he was cut off.

“No!” Obi-Wan snapped. “You are not dying down there, do you hear me Anakin? I will not let you die like this.” His voice lowered. “I can’t listen to another person I love say their dying words.” Anakin’s heart broke then, just a little bit. 

“Obi-Wan,” he repeated. Now, it sounded like Obi-Wan was having trouble breathing. “I know you are going to try to save me. I wouldn’t expect anything less. But-” a shaky breath from him, a soft sniffle from the other end of the line. “-if you can’t get to me, would you do something for me?” When Obi-Wan spoke, it sounded thick, as though he were speaking through tears.

“Anything.” Anakin smiled as his breaths became shallower.

“Tell Padme that I love her and I’m sorry I couldn’t make it home.” Obi-Wan let out a pained laugh.

“I knew you loved her,” he said. Anakin smiled. 

“And,” he said, “if you ever see Ahsoka again, tell her she was the best Padawan I could have asked for.” His breaths were coming in rapid pants, now, and the room was spinning out of focus. “Obi-Wan?” he asked, voice barely audible.

“Yes, Padawan mine?” he responded, his own voice shaky as well. 

“Thank you for being my Master,” Anakin said. Obi-Wan let out a sob, and had Anakin been able to see him, he would have seen tears running down his face. Anakin’s eyes closed with a peaceful smile on his face.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. No response. “Anakin!” he called again. But all he heard was silence.

________________________________________________________________________

Not 10 minutes later, the heavy machinery arrived and they cleared the rubble, tracing Anakin’s comm to his location. But they were too late. When they pulled Anakin out, they pulled out a corpse.