Welcome to Codywan week! 2025 Dates: Aug. 4-11 | Icon and Banner by @thegreencarousel | Masterlists per year (tumblr) | Masterlist (spreadsheet) | Everything you need to know
Hello! This post will have everything you need to know about codywan week! Below the cut there will be the rules, prompts, discord server, and any other information that is important or that I feel you need to know. This post will be updated every year just to change the prompts, so keep an eye on that!
The dates will always be in the description on this blog.
If you would like to join the discord, please message me here or our other blogs @meantforinfinitesadness or @yellowisharo to get a link.
RULES
Any type of creation is allowed. May that be art, writing, gifs, whatever you want! While we have separate prompts for art and fic, you can definitely use a fic prompt for art and vice versa or use them for any other medium! As long as it’s codywan, there isn’t a problem.
NSFW is allowed. However, please be sure to state whether your art/writing/creation is NSFW so that those that don’t want to view the content don’t have to. While we have separate NSFW prompts since 2023, you’re welcome to create something NSFW for the other prompts as well.
Put warnings up for anything that might be slightly triggering! It’s important that everyone feels safe when reading or viewing something that has to do with a ship they love.
QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS
Oh! Here’s a post of Frequently Asked Questions I’ll update it every time a question is asked!
If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to send me an ask or message here!
POSTING
You can post your creations here, ao3, or any other site that you use to post your creations. There is a collection over on ao3 that will be used again each year.
Please include links to your creation if you’re only posting it there so that others can see it.
Use the tag codywanweek2025 OR codywan week 2025 to tag your creations here.
Don’t forget to mention this blog so that we can see your works and reblog them! We try to reblog everyone’s work, but if you see that we’ve missed yours, please let us know!! It’s hard to keep track of everything and there are a lot of you each year.
If you feel you won’t be able to post on time or something has come up, that’s fine! You can post any time after the week ends! If you need to post them earlier, that’s fine as well! The ao3 collection will remain open and we’ll still reblog anything you post for cww after the week ends.
Hello, Codywanland! Your CWFKB mods are thinking deep thoughts about themes and times and prompts and interesting spins on all those delicious first kisses a new round of CWFKB might bring (CWFKB 3: _____, we're still brainstorming the catchphrase), and as we do that, we wanted to get a sense of the time zones and parts of the world that potential First Kissers inhabit for ... reasons. Reasons that may or may not become clear. For the bingo. The _____ Theme To Be Announced Codywan First Kiss Bingo: Three bingo. THAT bingo.
So, dear potential bingo-ers, would you please complete and reblog this poll, so it is spread far and wide across all of Codywanland? Thanks for your support!
Find your UTC time zone here:
I live closest to UTC Zone:
UTC (Prime Meridian, Baby!)
UTC +1-2
UTC +3-4
UTC +5-7
UTC +8-12
UTC -1-4
UTC -5-7
UTC-8-11
Vanilla extract/on the ISS right now/time is a construct
Voting ended onMay 3
If you live below the equator, please also give us a shout in the comments.
Hi all, mod Yellow here. I finally graduated back in November and spent the last two months resting (and now looking for a job), but I hope to get the 2025 masterlist up soon followed by getting the weekly spotlight up and running again!
For now, since the next year will probably be fairly hectic again for me, we've decided to do a slightly different event than usual for 2026, namely:
Finish/reimagine your past codywanweek WIPs!
We'll give you some more details on when/how/what Soon™.
Thank you everyone for participating in another amazing codywan week!! My thesis is currently kicking my ass so I'm not sure when I'll have the masterlist up and the @codywanweekspotlight updated, but go take a look through the following links:
AO3 collection
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Now that everything is posted, please go show all our participants some love, be it through comments, reblogs or kudos! There's some amazing stuff to be seen.
ba'jur bal beskar'gam – education and armour by kartaylirnaak
Rating: G, No Archive Warnings
@codywanweek 2025 Day 2 Prompt — Mandalorian culture/Clones raised as Mandalorians
Tags: Mandalorian clones, clones speak Mando'a, established Codywan, fluff, hand holding
The arrival of a padawan would be a deep and profound responsibility for both of them, and all of the vode under their command. An ad of their very own, to nurture and protect. Cody’s eyes flick back up to meet Obi-Wan’s from where they’d strayed while lost in thought. His jetii meets him as he always does, gentle reassurance and steadfast belief in his commander. Both of their hard edges softened when they’re alone together.
Or.
Codywan get a padawan.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Additional Tags: CodyWan Week (Star Wars), CodyWan Week 2025 (Star Wars), POV CC-2224 | Cody, Mythical Beings & Creatures, nature spirits, Nymphs & Dryads, Dryad CC-2224 | Cody, Naiad Obi-Wan Kenobi, Immortality, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending
Series: Part 4 of CodyWan Week 2025
Summary:
Cody has protected his forest since it came into existence. During that entire time, the river running through it supplied him and the trees with life-giving water.
He gets to meet the river spirit.
He might get to know a different kind of living.
A week late and 20K long, my @codywanweek Codywan Week 2025 fill for the day one Archaelogist/Linguist AU is now posted.
All of the literature focused on the Jedi’s pacifism and humanitarian work, though a handful of accounts had said they’d been skilled defenders if they were some place that was attacked while they were there. This, though-- there were gauntlets and greaves, bracers and spaulders, light flexible chest and upper back plates of some unknown flexible material. On the obverse, like the Mando pieces, was the Jedi script.
“How did you find this site?” Cody asked Kenobi, who’d begun prodding folks to start winding down for the day, since the sun was almost below the trees down at the camp. He joined in on staking out tarps to cover the items, with the assistance of a handful of site techs, some of them locals.
“It came to me in a dream,” Kenobi said with a quiet smile, even as Tano said, flatly, “drone photography.”
Tano gave her advisor an unimpressed look as she pulled the ladder away from the overhead platform, so it couldn’t be tripped over; Kenobi ignored her with a deliberately provoking grin.
Many thanks to @bluemaskedkarma for being the best "yes, and?" listener a writer could hope for, and thanks too to everyone in the Codywan Week and Star Wars Fanworks WIP discord sprint channels for your camaraderie and support. Thanks to @dontbelasagnax and @notthestarwar and @merlyn-bane for letting me whine-- and thank you to everyone who reads!
Don't forget to check out all the other CWW2025 week contributions, and I hope you enjoy!
Still working on the others (and I might change colors later with these, we'll see) but the ones I'm content enough with I'll put here despite it not being Codywan week 😄
Day 5
AU: Medieval/Liege and knight au
Broad: Sunrise/Sunsets
Specific: Keldobe kiss
Day 6
AU: Library
Broad: Old Codywan/Old men in love/Temple Grandpas Codwan
Specific: Codywan adopts baby clones
Day 7
AU: Dragon
Broad: Sunflowers
Specific: Kissing against wall
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody
Additional Tags: CodyWan Week (Star Wars), CodyWan Week 2025 (Star Wars), POV Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sirens, Siren Obi-Wan Kenobi, Merpeople, Musicians, musician cc-2224 | cody, Established Relationship, Established CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Fluff, Soft
Series: Part 3 of CodyWan Week 2025
Summary:
When Obi-Wan sang, there was nothing else. Nothing that could compare and nothing that could touch him. Whether to harm or to soothe, it didn’t matter. Nothing could come close to him. And that was how it’d always been.
When Obi-Wan screamed or wept, his voice moved the oceans. The metaphorical barrier became oh so real. Waves whipped about him in a storm that could almost soothe. Almost.
So when Obi-Wan opened his mouth and sang a line, not with a hook and sinker like he’d usually do, and someone answered, something.. something shifted inside of him.
Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Additional Tags: AU, 7 Short Stories, Archeologist and Sidekick, magic and mystery, Sith Shenanigans (Star Wars), codywan - Freeform, Tags to be added, Codywan Week, Fan Event Prompts, Mandalorian Cowboys and Jedi Landowners, Flirting and Romance, Planet Tatooine (Star Wars), Pirates, Slavery, Found Love, Wings, Changelings, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Established Relationship, Light Angst, Merpeople, Crack Treated Seriously, Royals/Princes, Marriage of Convenience, first meets, Historical References, Force Shenanigans (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive CC-2224 | Cody
Series: Part 23 of CodyWan
Summary:
A week’s worth of CodyWan Event Prompts in the form of short stories.
Each story is a standalone tale and set in a different AU, but can be continued sometime in the future, where and if needed to be.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Cody requires assistance with his preparations for birth, and Obi-Wan provides it.
Written for day 7 of @codywanweek, for the NSFW prompt "Mpreg". Lil preview under the cut:
Obi-Wan was sat on the sofa, catching up on correspondence with Anakin, when the soft padding of bare feet on the floor announced Cody stepping out of the refresher. A wave of his warm, rich scent followed right after, and Obi-Wan inhaled deeply.
He looked up, smiling already, to find Cody struggling to tie the belt of his bathrobe over his all but rotund belly. Moisture from the shower—a real water shower, because Cody would have rioted had they been allotted quarters with a sonic instead—plastered his dark curls to the nape of his neck as he muttered expletives under his breath. Or maybe it was sweat that did it. Cody sweated a lot lately.
By the time he reached the sofa, groans of frustration had replaced the curse words. With a final huff, Cody let go of the belt ends and threw his hands in the air. “Fine! I give up. It’s too hot to be wearing clothes, anyway.”
Obi-Wan clapped a hand in front of his widening grin, but too late. Glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, Cody did a double take. “And you,” he seethed, turning as he pointed an accusatory finger at Obi-Wan, “stop your idiotic staring and help me sit down.”
codywan week 2025 day 7 prompts, ryong edition: disability, clones found early and moved to the jedi temple
notes: big huge thank you to the codywan week mods for this lovely event! you guys have once more managed to drag me out of my cave to write some gay ass shit lmao. everyone has been lovely with both the encouragement in the comments and reblogs and posting such wonderful things this week, it's been such a fun time, i really appreciate everyone who's taken the time to leave a comment on here or on ao3. here's to another year of codywan week!
(guy with knee injury and frequent headaches voice) for some reason my fictional characters keep ending up with one of these two maladies. we may never know the reasons or logic behind this though. title once again from autoclave by the mountain goats.
wc: 1517
cross-posted to ao3
Cody found him, because of course he did. If it weren’t for the fact that Cody had been one of the many clones to volunteer for midichlorian testing, Obi-Wan might have thought that the man was secretly Force sensitive, with a knack for finding Obi-Wan just when he didn’t want to be found by anyone at all.
“Sir.”
“Told you not to—” Obi-wan swallowed back a wave of dizzying vertigo, closing his eyes against the incessant lights. “—call me that.”
“Habit, Knight Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan opened one eye to glare at Cody and immediately regretted his decision. The lights of the salle had not dimmed in the slightest, despite his wishes to the contrary. He’d been—he’d been busy with—drills, and katas, and other very important things when the air had started to get all fuzzy around him and—
“Migraine again?” Cody asked. He kneeled before Obi-Wan, his silhouette blocking out the too-bright lights and giving Obi-Wan a singular moment of sizzling relief. “You could have commed a Healer.”
“I don’t appreciate,” Obi-Wan said, slowly and with great dignity, lest he pass out for another few seconds, “your tone. Marshal Commander Cody.”
“You’re only saying that because I’m right,” Cody said, dry. “Painkillers?”
Obi-Wan sort of just wobbled his head from side to side, not quite up to a full headshake. “Left in my quarters.”
Cody’s silence following this admission was quite telling. Obi-Wan tried to close his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Cody’s no doubt disapproving expression, then found he’d already closed them at some point. Lucky him.
“I’ll be just fine,” he sighed, passing a shaky hand over his eyes. “It will pass. And I have the salle reserved for the next three hours, you know. One could even say that you’re imposing on my time slot.”
“If one can stay awake long enough to make such an argument then I won’t argue with him.” Cody’s tone had only grown more pointed, a feat that Obi-Wan had previously thought somewhat improbable. “To your quarters or to the medical wing, Knight Kenobi?”
“Oh, if you insist,” Obi-Wan grumbled. He could have—probably—made it to his quarters himself. But, well. There was nothing wrong with accepting a helping hand. Even if Cody wanted things from him that he couldn’t provide—such as to serve as his Jedi General. No, Obi-Wan was not suited to such endeavors. Past experiences had told him that much. He was perfectly fine just, just here, and Cody could get someone quite competent and wise and—he didn’t actually have to think about this just this second. Obi-Wan hated how his mind tended to spiral inward at times like these. It was just so… inconvenient. To put it mildly.
At some point in the last few minutes, Cody had slung one of Obi-Wan’s arms over his shoulders and propelled the both of them into a staggering sort of walk.
“I do appreciate your,” Obi-Wan swallowed a wave of sudden nausea and nearly tripped over his own feet, “forbearance. In not carting me around like last time.” Sudden jots or changes in elevation—no matter how slight—always seemed to knock something loose in his head. Well, something even looser, as it were.
“What can I say,” Cody said, still with that wry tone, like he was humoring Obi-Wan in something just between the two of them. “I’m a fast learner.”
“Yes. Quite.” Obi-Wan closed his eyes and indulged in a moment of weakness, leaning his forehead against Cody’s shoulder as they made their way through the halls. He had a moment’s worry for his lightsaber—then saw its quicksilver gleam in Cody’s free hand, and felt an inexplicable rush of fondness. Of course Cody had been thoughtful enough to pick up Obi-Wan’s lightsaber instead of leaving it there for who knew how long. And of course Cody was too damn—tactful—to say anything about it at all. Blast the man.
They passed few inhabitants in the halls on the way to Obi-Wan’s quarters. It was too early for the Temple to really wake up, though plenty of Jedi preferred to start the day at dawn—and plenty of troopers, too, now that they had finally finished settling in the last of the transplants from Kamino. There’d been some sort of fuss over in the Senate about where to house the troopers, how to provide for them, and such, but it was becoming more and more clear that the Temple had more than enough room for both the Order and the incoming troopers, to everyone’s surprise except perhaps Jocasta Nu’s and a handful of Shadows and Temple Guards. The troopers who hadn’t assigned themselves to settle into the Temple on Coruscant had been more than satisfied to be folded into the different Jedi Corps, or a number of other avenues typically open to those in the Order who no longer wanted to be Jedi, and so on.
All in all, it wasn’t quite a tidy nor as neat a solution as the Senate seemed to think it should have been, but they made it work. They were making it work.
Except, well, with one persistent problem that refused to leave Obi-Wan. A problem with an infuriatingly implacable demeanor and some sort of sixth sense for locating and closing in on Obi-Wan’s whereabouts at any given moment.
“Here we are,” Cody said, some time later.
“Wait,” Obi-Wan said, blearily watching him key open his door, “when in the bloody hells did you get the code for my quarters?”
“Wasn’t that hard to find out.” Cody eased Obi-Wan through the doorway with a sort of exaggerated care, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes again as Cody flipped on the lights—only to half-dim, in deference to Obi-Wan’s… present condition.
“Pardon?” Obi-Wan mumbled.
“It’s just the date you were taken on as a Padawan,” Cody said, as if that were a perfectly normal piece of information for anyone to have. “You should really have better security measures, Knight Kenobi.”
For a moment, Obi-Wan nearly forgot the blinding pain throbbing behind one eye and temple and gaped at Cody, who seemed unbothered by the—the sheer and utter gall of his words. “Pardon?”
“We can table this conversation for later,” Cody said, as if offering Obi-Wan some kind of out.
The sheer beskar fucking balls on this man. Unbelievable. Obi-Wan collapsed face-first into the pillows of his sofa, and blessed darkness enveloped him.
“You’ll suffocate like that.” Cody’s hands were warm where they gripped Obi-Wan’s shoulders, then his skull, adjusting him without putting any undue strain on his neck so that he could breathe.
“The Force,” Obi-Wan mumbled, half into the cushions, “is with me. And would not… let me suffocate.”
“Of course, Knight Kenobi,” Cody said, tone a little too amused. “Water. No meds, still?”
Obi-Wan took a few sips of cool water, hearing the ice cubes click around the mug in concert. The straw was just as cold between his lips, slick metal soothing to the sort of bruised feeling taking up residence in his brain. “No,” he finally said.
Cody set the mug down on the floor by the sofa, then sat at Obi-Wan’s side. His hand landed on the back of Obi-Wan’s head after a moment of hesitation, then started to card through the strands of his hair.
Alright, so he could stand to be a little more grateful for Cody’s uncanny ability to single Obi-Wan out at all times. This was, admittedly, somewhat more pleasant than laying prone in the salles until his migraine sorted itself out. “…they’ve been worsening the… dreams,” Obi-Wan said, voice dropping back to a murmur. Dreams, nightmares, visions. They all seemed the same to him these days. The migraines chased them away, or else made them more lurid; the medication they used to manage the pain seemed to do the same thing, for the most part.
“You should try them again,” Cody said, quiet to match Obi-Wan. “If it doesn’t go away on its own by the evening.”
Obi-Wan had to remind himself, somewhat crossly, that it had taken a good while for Cody to get comfortable enough with Obi-Wan to make such suggestions, and that any such suggestions were solely made with the thought of Obi-Wan’s own wellbeing in mind. He could only be grateful that Anakin was on a field trip with his peers, or perhaps concerned.
“Fine,” he said at last, if only to get Cody to keep stroking a hand through his hair. It felt nice. Nothing more to it. And, finally, because—despite Qui-Gon’s best efforts to the contrary—he hadn’t been raised in a barn, he gave Cody a quiet but sincere, “thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Cody said easily. “Glad I found you when I did.”
“Yes, alright,” Obi-Wan grumbled. “You’re very good at what you do. Stubborn wanker.”
Obi-Wan didn’t have to see Cody’s face to know that he was doing that restrained little half-smile he did when he was truly pleased; he felt the glow of him in the Force all the same.
in the peace of your war (in the comfort of the dark)
codywan week 2025 masterlist
codywan week 2025 day 6 prompts, ryong edition: OLD MAN YAOI (CONTAINS SEX) (DON'T GO PAST THE READ MORE IF YOU'RE ON PUBLIC TRANSIT I GUESS) (UNLESS YOU REALLY WANT TO?)
notes: title from sanctuary by mitski + tamino which is really just a criminally fucking underrated song. i was initially going to do whump/cody fighting the chip but then day 5 took me out at the knees, so that's your guys' whump serving for the week (unless day 7 says otherwise). i pulled this out of an OLD ASS doc of unfinished drafts so if i somehow already posted this (and then didn’t leave myself a note saying so for whatever reason???) you guys have a solemn duty to let me know lmao. ive seen like 4-5 episodes of sw rebels and that was also like 4-5 years ago so the setup is left deliberately vague
wc: 1718
cross-posted to ao3
Obi-Wan found him at an entirely indecent hour. Due to social pressures (inability to house and maintain a caf maker in his own quarters) and the galaxy’s cruel and uncaring whims (inability to sleep) Cody was in the officer’s mess sometime just past midnight.
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said as he came to a halt just inside the room. The automatic doors hissed to a slow stop behind him. “Cody. Hello, there. Ah—am I imposing?”
“Never, sir,” Cody said as evenly as he was able to. The caf maker gurgled behind him. He was wearing a bodyglove that was so careworn it no longer served its purpose as buffer between him and his armor; the material was thin and soft with its years of wearing and washings and there was an unfortunately placed hole on the back of one thigh. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was stripped down to an undershirt and a pair of boxers Cody was quite sure he never wore under his tunics and robes.
Not that Cody had ever made a habit of studying Obi-Wan’s legs or—other anatomy.
“Pulling an all-nighter on me, Cody?” Obi-Wan joined him at the counter and busily started to pull a flimsy cup from the stack beside the caf maker, then another.
“At this point, it’s feeling more like an all-weeker,” Cody said, only a little rueful.
Obi-Wan and his two paper cups continued to move about. He kept one empty. The other, he filled with a small mountain of powdered creamer and fine-grained sweetener. Obi-Wan took his caf black and hot. Cody knew because he’d once accidentally drank a swallow of the stuff and nearly melted his tongue for his troubles.
The solution didn’t click into place until Obi-Wan reached past him—the curly hair on his forearm brushed against Cody’s stomach as he crowded close—and poured two cups of caf: one for him. One for Cody.
“Well, here’s to a good night’s sleep in your future,” Obi-Wan murmured. He tipped his cup against Cody’s in a quick toast before downing half of it in one go.
Cody watched, fascinated. The man didn’t even flinch. This was water and bitter coffee grounds that had just finished boiling, and Obi-Wan merely took three long, languorous pulls as he—
His eyes followed the bob and flex of Obi-Wan’s throat as he drank his caf just next to Cody. Obi-Wan hadn’t moved away after reaching past Cody for the caf and his free hand was just—resting at the edge of the counter, the edges of his knuckles barely brushing the sliver of Cody’s skin just above his waistband and—
“Excellent idea, Cody,” Obi-Wan said briskly. “My, but that certainly…”
Cody, who had been entertaining a private fantasy of Obi-Wan crowding him closer and closer to the counter, snapped back to attention.
“…perhaps one day we can find something a bit more robust.” Obi-Wan, oblivious to Cody’s vast and complex inner turmoil, was still talking on about… something.
Cody set his cup of still-scalding caf, sweetened and milky just as he liked, on the counter between them. He curved a hand around the side of Obi-Wan’s face and nestled his thumb just under the soft spot between Obi-Wan’s ear and the hinge of his jaw.
“…but I’m sure… I…” Obi-Wan trailed off, throat moving again as he swallowed—nerves this time. The silver glint of his beard transfixed Cody for a moment as he stroked the pad of his thumb across Obi-Wan’s jaw.
“I can think of one way to ensure we both get a good night’s sleep,” Cody said levelly.
“You’ve a rather high opinion of your… capabilities,” Obi-Wan said. His voice was teasing—as were his eyes. Cody shifted far enough that he could slid a thigh between Obi-Wan’s legs and feel the warmth of him all along the line of his torso. “I know I’m not the only one who’s not as young as he… used to be…” Obi-Wan trailed off as Cody mouthed up the line of Obi-Wan’s jaw, feeling the birdlike flutter of Obi-Wan’s pulse against his lips.
They’d never had the time or wherewithal to do this during the war. They were fighting a different kind of war now—one that left them long tracts of time amidst hyperspace, weeks of waiting between engagements, and regular touchdowns with the hidden bases all around the Outer and Mid Rim. One that left them more allowances for… this.
“…but you make a very compelling argument,” Obi-Wan finished.
Cody’s smile—hidden against the side of Obi-Wan’s throat—was just a touch too smug to be all that sportsmanlike. But he’d never claimed to fight fair. “My quarters or yours, Kenobi?”
“I think my quarters are a touch roomier,” Obi-Wan said. He’d kept the General’s quarters more out of habit than anything else, or so he’d told Cody. No one had argued, least of all Cody himself.
“Your quarters it is,” Cody decided.
Obi-Wan winked—roguishly—and spun them around so he could pick Cody up. It was so quick that all Cody felt was a brief lurch and then he was instinctively wrapping his legs around Obi-Wan’s torso.
“Obi-Wan,” Cody said, half laughing, half protesting. “You’re going to throw out your damn knee.”
“Then that would be my prerogative, my dear,” Obi-Wan said primly. “Besides. Through the Force, all things are possible.”
“No adages while we’re fucking,” Cody said. He tucked his head down to bump foreheads with Obi-Wan and sneak another kiss while he was distracted. Obi-Wan walked them into a corner for his troubles.
They made it to Obi-Wan’s quarters without further incident, though Cody took a moment to mourn the perfectly good cup of caf that he’d left behind in the officer’s mess. Obi-Wan laid him down gently—far too gently—and Cody pulled him down for a third, filthier kiss.
“I’m afraid I won’t be up for too much,” Obi-Wan said regretfully.
Cody laid back against Obi-Wan’s bed and pulled his undersuit off, watching hungrily as Obi-Wan did the same with his own clothing. They both had far more scars and wrinkles and gray hair than when they’d done similar things during the war—stolen moments and ill-advised trysts that they’d never ended up talking about—but Cody thought he loved Obi-Wan just as much. More, even. “S’alright. I won’t be either.”
“Here.” Obi-Wan tossed him a bottle of slick and Cody obligingly warmed some up between his hands, hissing out a sigh between his teeth as he finally got a hand around his cock. Nearly ten years later, and still just the sight of Obi-Wan naked made him hard as a rock.
“Enjoying the view?” Cody rasped as Obi-Wan settled on the bed at his side.
“Oh, immensely,” Obi-Wan said, something of that patented Kenobi smugness entering his voice. He wriggled around to make himself comfortable, propping his bad knee up on a pillow to ease the joint, then obligingly getting a hand around both of their cocks. “One of these days,” he said, considering.
Cody groaned as Obi-Wan stroked the two of them together, thumb teasing at the sensitive underside of his head. “Yeah?”
“One of these days, when I am feeling up for it,” Obi-Wan said, one hand coming up to grab at Cody’s curls and guide him down to kiss and bite down the line of Obi-Wan’s throat, “I’m going to have to take my time with you. Take a day off. See how many fingers I can fit in you. You’d be begging for it by the third one,” he said, matter of fact as anything.
Hearing the blunt, nearly condescending way Obi-Wan said it made Cody whine and buck his hips into Obi-Wan’s grip, leaving a long trail of pre along the inside of Obi-Wan’s thigh.
“See? Already gagging for it,” Obi-Wan murmured. “And so sweet for me.”
Cody nodded. All the words had flown out of his head by now. He slid open-mouthed kisses across the line of Obi-Wan’s collarbones, free hand starting to grope and knead at Obi-Wan’s chest.
“Maybe I’d even eat you out,” Obi-Wan told him, voice getting tighter and lower as his hand sped its pace. “Put you on your stomach. I wouldn’t let you touch, either. I bet you can still come without a hand on your pretty little cock. I suppose I’d just have to sufficiently motivate you, hm?”
At the thought of Obi-Wan making him beg for it, refusing to touch him or let him come unless he could do it with just Obi-Wan’s fingers and mouth opening him up—Cody came with another little whine that he was too far gone to even be embarrassed about. Obi-Wan gasped something out—Cody couldn’t quite hear what—but he obligingly grabbed Obi-Wan’s ass and hauled him closer, close enough to let Obi-Wan rut into the come-slick join between Cody’s hip and thigh. The overstimulation of Obi-Wan’s furred abdomen against Cody’s softening cock made him groan between his teeth—but it was the good kind. They both liked a bit of bite to their pleasure.
After Obi-Wan came with a guttural groan and a biting kiss to Cody’s shoulder, Cody hobbled his way out of bed and eased his way into the ‘fresher.
On the bed, Obi-Wan rolled over onto his back—better for his knee that way—and gave a content little sigh. Cody felt it in his bones, and came back to Obi-Wan’s bedside feeling sufficiently sated and more than a little smug.
“My capabilities to your liking, then?” Cody asked. He trailed a washcloth across Obi-Wan’s thighs and stomach, then did the same to himself.
“Mmm.” Obi-Wan gave Cody a heavy-lidded gaze and a catlike smile. Were they both ten years younger, that look alone would have had Cody up for a second round.
As it was, he simply settled back down at Obi-Wan’s side after tossing the washcloth down the laundry chute. They curled together with the ease of years of proximity, Cody making room for the pillow supporting Obi-Wan’s knee and Obi-Wan careful not to put too much weight on Cody’s neck or upper back. Cody dropped off moments later as if the sleeplessness had never found him, lulled by the familiar scent of Obi-Wan’s beard oil and skin and the sound of their breathing entwined.
codywan week 2025 day 5 prompts, ryong edition: force sensitive cody
notes: new ethel cain album so of course the song title is ethel cain strangers. i know i already posted about it in the second chapter of from the left arm of the falconer but like. the unreleased demo will never not do cocomelon shit to my brain! everyone should go listen to the new ethel cain album! this was the exact opposite of what i was planning to write but sometimes cody has his own plans!
wc: 2012
cross-posted to ao3
It only took Obi-Wan about a day into the whole affair for him to realize that Commander Cody was Force sensitive. It took him another six months to realize that Commander Cody himself did not know that he was Force sensitive, which introduced a wholly new and somewhat more troubling dimension to Obi-Wan’s entire… quandary.
The thing was, the good Commander seemed entirely aware of what he was doing at all times, a facet of him that Obi-Wan tried to not find as attractive as it truly was. Amidst all the Commander’s other all-too attractive traits. So Obi-Wan just sort of carried on and assumed that his Commander did know—that his uncannily accurate predictions of the enemy’s movements were just that, uncanny; that his quick thinking on his fight was due to his Commander’s hard work and skill, yes, but also due to reflexes sharpened by the Force; that his being able to throw himself bodily at someone like General Grievous and not break several bones was not simply due to his superior training and physical durability, which, yes, was only partially true.
Alright, yes, six months into his posting and Obi-Wan was… somewhat fonder of his Commander than he really should have been. But in the face of such dedicated focus, the unstoppable force to Obi-Wan’s immovable object, the keen intellect that allowed him to pierce through the hearts of Separatist battle plans and half-banter late-night conversations with Obi-Wan—ranging from farmer’s rights on Correllia to old histories of the Jedi Order to spur of the moment botany lectures and everything in between—well. In the face of all that, Obi-Wan was only a man. A man who was, at times, really and truly uncomfortably aware of how physically attractive his Commander was, as well.
So, if one thought about it, he wasn’t to be blamed for his little—slip-up. As it were.
“My, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, only a little breathless, “you’ve been holding out on me.”
Cody shot him a scowl from where he had Obi-Wan pinned in a complex shoulder lock, only the mirth in his eyes and sunlit wash of his Force presence betraying him. “And don’t you forget it, sir.”
“I think you’re getting better at managing your Force capabilities,” Obi-Wan told him, forgetting—for the first time in six months—their unspoken agreement not to speak of such things. Or, the unspoken agreement that Obi-Wan had thought they had with each other, as Cody tended to seemingly avoid the subject and Obi-Wan didn’t want to press his Commander on it. He extricated himself from the lock, hissing as his various scrapes and bruises made themselves known. It was only after a moment’s pause that he looked up at Cody, who looked—well, stunned. Almost like Obi-Wan had hit him over the head instead of imparting a fairly bland piece of feedback.
“Cody…?” Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it. He took a look around the room and stepped closer. It was empty—one of the privileges of coming to spar when anyone who wasn’t on night shift was fast asleep.
“I don’t have any Force capabilities,” Cody said, levering himself up off the floor and starting to unwrap his hands with short, sharp jerks. “So there’s nothing to talk about.”
Well. That… wasn’t quite right. Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the way it flopped right back into his eyes, damp with sweat. “I mean, you very much do, my dear. It was one of the first things I noticed about you.”
Cody paused in throwing his bag over his shoulder, jaw tensing and shoulders squaring up like he was readying himself for a fight. “Clone troopers can’t be Force sensitive. Prime wasn’t.”
“It’s not… quite a genetic thing, really,” Obi-Wan said. There was a small part of him that just wanted to walk away and let Cody come to his own conclusions—after all, if Cody wanted to pretend he didn’t have any Force sensitivity, then that was his prerogative.
Yet.
“You… truly didn’t know?” Obi-Wan reached out to Cody, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Your training is impressive, as are your skill and diligence, but… you’ve been, essentially, passively wielding the Force for as long as I’ve known you.”
“That can’t be right,” Cody said. He shrugged off Obi-Wan’s touch, still steadfastly refusing to look his way. “Sorry to get your hopes up.”
It was only hours later—sleepless, in the process of giving up the endeavor altogether and sitting at his desk instead of laying in bed—that Obi-Wan realized he owed Cody an apology. And a more comprehensive explanation. Clone troopers with “faulty” genomes were all too often slated for decommissioning—not as much anymore, with the intervention of the Jedi Order, but Cody would have grown up in an environment where Force sensitivity very well may have a death sentence.
He somehow ended up at Cody’s quarters an interminable amount of time later, still in the early hours of the not-quite morning. On the other side of the door, he could just barely feel a tangled knot of emotion—bitter enough to make the back of his throat close up with secondhand feeling. He stood there frozen for a few moments, unsure if he should knock or—
The door slid open. Cody looked like he’d slept about as much as Obi-Wan—which was to say, not at all.
“Ah,” Obi-Wan said. “Can I—?”
“Sure.” Cody stepped to the side to let him in, those dark eyes tracking Obi-Wan’s every movement. “I still think you’re wrong.”
“That’s alright,” Obi-Wan said, though he was fairly sure he’d never been wrong in his life. Or, very rarely, and then in extenuating circumstances.
“I can’t be Force sensitive,” Cody said again, square-shouldered and stiff. He had his jaw set like he was readying himself to leap into the fray; Obi-Wan found himself tensing to match, as if they were winding up for a fight.
“Be that as it may—”
“I can’t,” Cody stressed, “because if I was, sir, then what the hell have I been using it for all my life?”
To survive, Obi-Wan didn’t say. He knew well enough that—at the end of an engagement, in the deep cold of hyperspace between one skirmish and the next, when the dark the night pressed in on you—surviving didn’t mean victory. Surviving was not always a blessing.
“Countless brothers dead at the hands of the Kaminoans,” Cody said, eyes glittering with something too terrible to say aloud. “Countless more dead in each battle. And this whole time I could have—”
“The Force never asks more of us than what we can give,” Obi-Wan said, hoarse. His throat hurt, in a distant and absent way. To be party to Cody’s grief was almost worse than sheltering his own. At least his own grief was easy to compartmentalize; to shove away or release to the Force on his better days, to write down as an easily-forgotten note in his seldom-touched journal or as an abandoned cup of tea steeped too long, too bitter. The face of Cody’s grief was more terrible to bear, more painful to look at the face of.
“I could have given more,” Cody snarled, pounding his chest with an open palm. “I could have—if I had the Force, if I’d known, then I could have saved them—Ponds, Shin, Waxer, ’23, any of them—and instead, I learn now? A full year into my posting, when we’ve already lost—so many—”
Wordless, voiceless, Obi-Wan opened his arms and drew Cody to him, one hand on the back of Cody’s head and the other between his shoulder blades. Cody clutched his robes, hands turning to fists in Obi-Wan’s tunics.
“I could have done more,” Cody whispered, hoarse.
Obi-Wan said nothing about the dampness at the shoulder of his tunic, nor the redness of Cody’s eyes and the bleeding wound of his Force presence. “You have done all that you could,” Obi-Wan told him, his own voice catching. It was too much a mirror of his own thoughts and feelings; if he’d been faster, more cunning, trained harder, then, then, then. That spiral never ended. He suspected Cody knew as much, but it wasn’t like such reminders ever helped in the moment. “Cody. Even if you had known—and truly, you wield yourself like you’ve known all your life—nothing could have changed.”
Cody’s grip tightened on Obi-Wan’s robes in one fraught moment, a strangled sob catching in his chest. He shook for a moment, shuddering apart in Obi-Wan’s arms.
It was a harsh truth, one that Obi-Wan had spent all his life learning. But it could not be swayed.
Finally, Cody’s hands loosened, his breath evened out, and he turned his forehead into the base of Obi-Wan’s throat. “But I…?”
“Enough to be a Force adept,” Obi-Wan replied, voice gentling. “I’ve no equipment on me to test this hypothesis, but I suspect enough to have been taken into the Temple at a younger age.”
“Oh.” Cody mulled this over, the molten core of his thoughts and feelings settling and starting to shift into something more stable—less heavy with grief, more resigned. Obi-Wan knew the feeling all too well. “The Kaminoans never knew.”
“I don’t think anyone has yet, at large, suspected that the troopers are capable of Force sensitivity,” Obi-Wan told him. Of course, there were a handful of Councilors and Masters that suspected—after all, Force sensitivity was decidedly not genetic. If the records were to be believed, Obi-Wan himself had come from a pleasant but entirely Force-null family on Stewjon. But a war was on, and a Force sensitive trooper would surely quickly find themselves at the center of a web of intrigue and heavy-handed politics and—worse. Not that there was much worse than politics. “And your secret is safe with me.”
Cody took a shuddering breath, one that seemed to take all his willpower with it. “Alright. Fine, so I’m Force—sensitive.”
“It doesn’t have to be addressed tonight,” Obi-Wan told him. “Or even at the present moment.”
“But sometime.” Cody nodded, looking resigned—and then determined. “I want to learn how to really use it.”
“You may be starting too late to—lift starships, or things like that,” Obi-Wan said. “But, as the academics say, through the Force all things are possible, and you, my Cody—have a great deal of willpower on your side.”
The side of Cody’s mouth quirked in a tired almost-smile. “Flatterer.”
“Only for you.” Obi-Wan, feeling very daring and more than a little raw himself, pressed a brief kiss to the corner of Cody’s mouth. Cody didn’t always accept the affection Obi-Wan wanted to impress upon him, but he must have been feeling indulgent of Obi-Wan’s faults after all that—he drew Obi-Wan back down for another kiss, this one slower and more tender.
“That’s a lie if I ever heard one,” Cody rasped. He hesitated—deeply uncharacteristic for him, and Obi-Wan tried not to worry all over again. “Would you… stay the night?”
A wash of relief swept over Obi-Wan, a feeling like vertigo at the top of a cliff. “Yes. Of course. I didn’t bring anything—”
“There’s a toothbrush for you in the ‘fresher,” Cody interrupted. He drew away from Obi-Wan, not quite looking him in the eyes once more. This time, however, he was blushing. Just a little, and it may have been more attributable to his still-red eyes and—everything else—but Obi-Wan couldn’t help the fondness that rose up in him. “And a change of clothing in the drawer.” He jerked his head at the utilitarian nightstand by his GAR-issue bed.
“Thank you.” Obi-Wan drew Cody’s hand to his chest, then to his mouth to press a kiss to his raw and bruised knuckles. He tried to press all his gratitude, his fondness, his trust in Cody—from the way Cody’s mouth quirked again at the corner, he was at least partially successful. Good enough for him.
