#SA arc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agirlunderarock · 1 month

Text

Consequences

Summary: Obi-Wan gets protective of Ahsoka after finding out Anakin plans to use her to get into the Zygerrian slave camp. Some people are more willing to roll with the changes Obi-Wan wants to make to the plans than others.

Pairings: Obi-WanXSas (original female character)

Warnings: None- written for general audiences

A/N: This fic was inspired by artwork by @agingerpanda so please go show the post some love her artwork is wonderful!

Read on Ao3

“Alright, that should be everything,” Sas said to herself as she inspected the neat stacks of disguises she had put together for Anakin’s most recent “just crazy enough to work” idea for the mission to Kadavo. She placed her hands on her hips, whether with satisfaction with her handiwork, or an attempt to keep from fussing with her back brace, she wouldn’t admit to either. She would however admit that she was proud of the effort she put into putting the disguises together. Scrounging around for oddly specific helmets on the black market, or going through the trouble of buying a dress, taking it apart and making something completely new, weren’t exactly the skills she was pulled into the Grand Army of the Republic for, but she found she did enjoy the change. At least it was better than sitting around the Jedi Temple training halls or the clone barracks and running through her monotonous physical therapy routine.

“As our resident shapeshifter, recon consultant, and biggest critic of armor functionality I’m putting you in charge of our disguises,” Anakin had said. Sas had rolled her eyes at the time, but now as she rubbed the soft but stretchy teal fabric of the captive disguise, she felt really pleased with herself. She really did try to keep it simple, almost all functional, the dress being the exception. Well, Sas made it as functional as she could, with as little fabric as she had.

Anakin, Obi-Wan and Rex would be getting to her ship soon to try on their Zygerrian slaver disguises. Heat creeped its way up the back of her neck at the thought. She didn’t want to dwell much on why. These were just mission things that had to be taken care of, and this time the mission included her shifting into a Togruta woman and being barely dressed. No big deal.

Sas took one quick breath to shake off the pre-mission jitters, and went to change.

Okay so Sas actually did like the way the disguise fit her. She turned in the mirror, grinning as teal color complimented her green skin and dark hair. The fabric had some give at the top, so it was form fitting, though not tight. She had even managed to leave enough space that she could wear her back brace under it. With the gold necklace and the belt, all she would need to do is ask Anakin or maybe Boil if they could paint her brace the same gold color. She could make it look like the necklace, and the long spinal support was connected to the belt at her waist. She might need a second opinion on it, but truthfully the thought of heading back into the field after being out so long filled her with a nervous excitement.

At least that was what she told herself when she heard the ramp to her ship lower itself. It really shouldn’t have surprised Sas that Obi-Wan and Anakin were early, or that they came onto her ship without knocking, and yet she felt warmth inch its way up her neck again.

“You seem to know your way around here,” Anakin’s voice echoed down the metal halls.

“Only about as well as you know Senator Amidala’s apartment,” Obi-Wan replied. Sas could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“You two are early,” she called down the small corridor as she walked to the ramp, “For once.”

“If we were going to be late, it would have been Anakin’s fault,” Obi-Wan called back, punching in the code to close up the ramp again. “Lucky for us I know how to keep to a schedule.”

“How would it be my fault? We came from the same place.”

Obi-Wan just ignored the question, “Rex will be here soon. I believe he was having lunch with Pyrrha-” He stopped for a moment as Sas met them in the main storage hold.

Sas watched the two jedi for a moment, Anakin averting his eyes to Obi-Wan, and the latter taking a moment to fuss with his beard under his chin. She wasn’t a jedi; she couldn’t read their emotions, but she could tell Obi-Wan was trying to figure out something to say. “That's fine,” she started, “Pyrrha knows the code, they can just drop in when they’re ready to. I’ve got your gear sets on the table. Let me just walk you both through everything. It’s not going to be nearly as comfortable as the duraplast you wear with your robes, but it gives more coverage so that should be good.” Sas was acutely aware of how cold her legs felt as the teal fabric swished with each step. Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin were the kind to keep their judgements to themselves, so their silence felt heavier and awkward as she continued to ramble on. “So I also needed your opinion on this,” Sas continued, as she gestured to her back brace. “It fits well enough under it, but I thought if we spray painted it gold or something it might look like part of the costume or something-”

“Sas, what are you talking about?” Obi-Wan said at last.

By now the trio was standing in her small mess chamber, Sas leaned against the table as she turned to Obi-Wan, his brows furrowed low over his blue eyes. To anyone else, he might have looked frustrated, but Sas had found over the years it was a face he really made when he was more concerned.

“I just thought it would be better to work my brace into the costume, Anakin or maybe Boil could help me paint it. It wouldn’t take long,” she said. “Figured that would be better than me going without it. I’d be fine to go without it-”

“Sas, you’re not going on this mission,” Obi-Wan interrupted again.

“What are you talking about Kenobi?” She challenged. “If I’m not going, what was the point of having me put all of this together? Having me put together the disguises?” She looked between the two jedi in confusion.

“So you could feel involved again-” Anakin quickly answered. “You have the best eye for things like this. I didn’t think you would take it to mean you were coming with us.”

“Regardless, Anakin, you could have done her the courtesy of telling her,” Obi-Wan said.

“Honestly, Sas, you’re still my first pick for this mission.”

“Anakin-”

“What? Sas has done plenty of undercover missions for us before. She’s perfect for this!”

“She was undercover as Padme, not being sent to a prison camp. What makes you think those two missions are comparable?”

Sas just crossed her arms and let them bicker back and forth. That was how these sort of things usually went. Truthfully, Sas thought she would have been medically cleared to return to the field by now. She wasn’t surprised though that Anakin hadn’t bothered to check or clear any of it with anyone. While she could say that her physical therapy had been going well, and she was infinitely stronger than she had been a few weeks ago, the implications of getting wounded or looking weak at prison camp, in the event she was rejected as a “gift,” didn’t give her much confidence in making it through the mission in one piece.

“Do I get a say in any of this?” She sighed. Both jedi stopped and looked at her. “Its fine, alright. I misunderstood. It’s fine. I don’t know who you got to fill in, I can see if I can make adjustments for Shaak Ti, I’m assuming you asked her-”

“Eh, Ahsoka is only a little shorter than you, she can make it work,” Anakin said with a shrug. “These my things?” he added as he picked up a stack of gear.

Sas blinked, once, then twice, then looked to Obi-Wan who seemingly turned to stone as he stared at Anakin before speaking again. “Anakin, am I to understand that in your eyes, the next best person to pretend to sell into slavery is Ahsoka, not just your padawan, but a child?”

“She’s a tough kid, and we’ll be there to keep an eye on her. She’ll pick up on the plan quickly. Ahsoka is used to our improvised plans. At least more than Shaak Ti or anyone else would be.”

Sas pressed her palms together, took a deep breath as she brought her hands up to her face before slowly letting out the breath and dropping them. She opened her mouth to call Anakin a few choice words, but stopped abruptly as Obi-Wan reached for his pile of gear with one arm, and with the other guided Sas away from the table by her waist.

Sas told herself her stuttering was because she was abruptly cut off as Obi-Wan led her away. It definitely was not a reaction to the way his war worn hand sent a shiver of warmth through her when his fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of her exposed waist. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched her before, and yet she felt her heart fluttering with each step she took as he led her back to her cabin. There was no reason for her to feel so worked up. There was absolutely no reason for her heart to race as he adjusted his hand to the small of her back, just where her brace ended.

“My dear, I should apologize for the confusion,” Obi-Wan said as they stopped outside her door.

Sas furrowed her brows. Her mind was still ringing with him calling her ‘my dear’. She felt more warmth creep into her face, He had done it plenty of times before, but something about the way he said it coupled with his hand once again adjusting its position on her waist, left her brain buzzing.

His own blue eyes widened for a moment as he realized what he had done and abruptly pulled his hand away. “For the miscommunication,” he clarified as if he didn’t know he set every nerve ending across her skin ablaze.

“Oh that,” She said, giving a tired roll of her eyes. “It's just Anakin being stubborn. I should have known better than to try to squeeze my way onto the mission so soon.” Outwardly she gave a small teasing smile, “You know its probably for the best I sit this one out. You seemed so distracted when you walked in. I’d hate to mess up the mission because you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

To her surprise she heard Obi-Wan chuckle to himself as she walked into her room. She looked back at him only to see a small smile of his own tugging at his lips from under his beard. “Yes, well fortunately for me, if you were going you would have shifted into someone else. Someone not nearly as distracting as you claim to be now.”

“I’m not claiming anything. Your silence spoke volumes Pretty Boy,” Sas teased. “It's fine, I understand. I’m just too hot for this mission. I get it.”

Obi-Wan just shook his head, but she could still see the small curve to his lips. He looked down the corridor for a moment before letting her door close behind him as he stepped further into her room. “Sas, it's alright if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

He raised a brow in answer.

“Using the force to read my emotions is cheating,” Sas countered sitting on the edge of her bed. “I know I’m just too gorgeous for you to handle right now, but you could pretend to misread my body language like anyone else would.”

Obi-Wan let out a breath as he moved to sit next to her. “I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are-.” “Its not a joke, I’m a legit snack.”

Sas hadn’t even realized she moved, until she felt Obi-Wan shift next to her and wrap his arm around her shoulders. Her throat closed up around half formed words as she tried to protest that she wasn’t upset. That she wasn’t disappointed, that she wasn’t worried about him.

“Sas, its okay. You don’t have anything to prove by going, or trying to hide that you’re upset.” She felt his chin rest on top of her head. “While I agree, you made a disguise that accentuates your beauty, I would prefer to have you well rested and in one piece. There will always be another mission-”

Closing her eyes and leaning into his hold, Sas let his words sink in for a moment. Of course she knew there would always be a next time. Even if she wasn’t serving on republic funded missions, there were always supply runs that needed to be made for her home planet. Part of the problem was that there was always another mission and it had taken more than a few tolls on Obi-Wan and Sas. Physically and mentally they were drained, even if they tried not to show it.

“Maybe the next mission will be for us to take a vacation,” she whispered.

“That would be nice,” he hummed.

They sat in silence for a while, neither in much of a hurry to change their clothes. It was comfortable and Sas was in no rush to disrupt the small moment of peace.

Anakin however, was eager. “Rex and Pyrrha are picking up Ahsoka, they’ll be here soon,” he called from down the corridor again.

Obi-Wan stiffened next to her. “He just doesn’t want to ask anyone else.” With his free hand, Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay but how many Jedi do you both actually know that would put themselves in that situation with you guys?” Sas asked as she slowly sat up.

“You’re not seriously defending him?”

“No, no I’m not.” Sas said quickly. “I just…understand only wanting to work with people who get your- uh preparation methods. That's why I was contracted through you and really only your unit for the GAR.”

Obi-Wan turned to her fully then. His blue eyes scanned her face, for what though Sas couldn’t say. She always understood those little extra moments of staring as Jedi things, that Obi-Wan just sometimes did. “Darling, you’ve just given me an idea. Take off the dress-”

“Excuse me there should be a please sprinkled in either before or after ‘take off the dress.’” Sas said.

Obi-Wan just blinked at her.

“I just mean, I’m not sure now is a good time for that- We can do that but i don’t think right this second is a good time-”

“Sas-”

“I get it, I look good in this disguise,” Sas was grinning at this point, as she thought she saw some red creeping around the edges of his ears.

“Sas, you know that's not what I meant.”

“No, I know, but it did get you to laugh.”

***

“How do I look?” Obi-Wan said at last. He held out his arms as Sas circled and inspected him in his new disguise.

“Honestly you look better than I did-” Sas said quickly as she adjusted the teal material stretched over his shoulder. She had added some fabric to the metal belt and necklace so that it would fit him. She hadn’t anticipated just exactly how the disguise would fit him. Truthfully she didn’t think the teal disguise would fit him at all. “There's a part of me that says I should be offended but,” she stood in front of him and reached out to adjust the top over his shoulder, “it makes your tits look better than mine.”

“Sas-”

“Fine, your pectorals, is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“This is barely going to cover your nipple-” Sas thought out loud as she reached to adjust the fabric but then quickly pulled her hands away. Fixing it over his shoulder was one thing, something about this felt different. This wasn't a necessity like when they trained together, or occasionally had to put and check each other's bacta pads. She took a step back studying the way the fabric clung to him, accentuating his muscle definition that usually hid under his robes.

“So we’re leaving it out? I suppose that would add to the appeal,” Obi-Wan said looking down at himself and then to Sas with a small grin. “But you would be the best person to speak on that, right Darling?”

Sas had to look away for a moment. She needed air. She felt warmth flood her face as she tried to look back to him to attempt to counter his teasing. All it took was a glimpse of his little teasing grin and the mischievous glint in those pretty blue eyes to make her heart flutter wildly in her chest. She had to look away again. He was only saying that because she was in charge of the disguises. That was all. Any flirting or comments before, even now, were just both of them being silly. That was all. Her ears burned. She spotted the last of the matching jewelry on her dresser, and took her chance to escape.

“I would be, if I was the one you were supposed to be charming and distracting,” She said once she could clear her head of his grin. She gathered up the head piece and the few rings she had found to match the belt.

“I suppose this would be good practice for me then?”

“The day you need to practice being charming, is the day Tatooine floods.” Sas held up the jewelry. “Besides, you need the finishing touches.”

She offered him the rings and waited for him to slide them onto his fingers before holding up the head piece. She had expected him to just take it from her hands but instead he tilted his head down and leaned in toward her. Sas stopped breathing.

“Would you do the honors?”

Sas blinked. For half a second she thought he was going to kiss her cheek. He was close enough. She let out a breath and gave him a grin. He was just messing with her that was all. It wasn’t often that she got flustered and he was just taking advantage of that. Maybe even trying to get her mind off the disappointment of not going with them.

“Of course, Love,” she finally answered as she set the crown on his head. She did her best to set the small combs on the edge in his hair without making it look silly. Once it was securely in place she dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at him. “All done. Are you sure you want to do this? Rex, Pyrrha and Ahsoka could show up at any second.”

“Anakin only wanted people he knew well on this mission. Who better to take this role, but me?”

Sas just laughed. “Well if you change your mind, at least we know your other disguise fits too.”

“You did a wonderful job with both Sas,” Obi-Wan assured her as he clasped her shoulder.

“You want me to go ahead of you, make it more dramatic?” “If you would be so kind.”

“He’s going to be so mad.”

“Maybe he should have done what we agreed on then.”

Sas let out another laugh before composing herself and stepping back to the mess table. Anakin had apparently just decided to try to fit the armor over his robes, which worked, but anyone who knew Jedi robes would be able to see through the disguise. Sas felt less bad for him as she watched him slide the helmet over his head.

“What was the point in having me put together actual disguises if you were just going to put the armor on over your robes?” Sas asked as she plopped down on the bench and propped her head on her arms on the table. “It would have saved me a lot of time, you know.”

“Well its about time you’re back. What happened, the old man couldn’t dress himself?” Anakin said, turning to look down the hall waiting for his former master still.

“Well…something like that- You laced up the shoulder piece wrong by the way.”

“Can you fix it for me then?” Anakin asked, turning his back to the hallway again.

“I don’t know, last I heard only old men couldn’t dress themselves.”

“Sas, come on-”

“Fine, stop your fussing. Come here.” Sas shifted so she was kneeling on the couch and motioned for Anakin to stand in front of her facing the hallway again. “Just sit still, this will only take a second.”

“Then what’s taking Obi-Wan so long?”

“Well he’s wearing everything exactly the way I said to so-”

“Obi-Wan, what are you wearing?” Anakin exclaimed.

Obi-Wan stood at the edge of the room,standing a little taller and straighter, really attempting to test how well the fabric of the disguise would hold together. Now that Sas had a moment to catch her breath and clear her head, she took a moment to fully appreciate the lengths Obi-Wan went through to get back at Anakin. Revenge may not be the Jedi way, but Sas thought she was starting to understand why.

“Anakin stop moving-” Sas tried not to laugh as she yanked on the armor making him face Obi-Wan as he tried to look away from the Jedi Master.

“My disguise Anakin, I thought it was obvious,” Obi-Wan answered.

“Why are you wearing Ahsoka’s-”

“Oh no, Sas and I agreed this disguise was much too big for Ahsoka. We’ll just let her know she won’t be accompanying us on this mission.”

Anakin tried to lift one of his arms to shield his eyes, but Sas just pulled on another one of the ties in the shoulder armor to get him to lower his hand. “Fine I’ll send holo to Shaak Ti, I’m sure-”

“Are you kidding?” Sas started, “You think she has time to make it all the way from Kamino? You leave tomorrow and you can’t pick her up on the way.”

“After all Anakin,” Obi-Wan cut in, “You did say you would prefer to work with someone who was familiar with- how did you describe it- your preparation style?”

“Fine, I’ll find someone else!”

“Frankly Anakin there's no one in the Order who knows you better than I do. It only makes sense that I should take this role.”

“I think it's a bit late for that, Ani-'' Sas said, finally letting go of the armor straps and letting him step away.

“Come on, Obi-Wan take it off. You’re not posing as the slave,” Anakin said, though he still wouldn’t look directly at Obi-Wan.

“Oh no, I believe I fit your requirements better than Ahsoka could.”

“I’ll find someone else, it won’t take me long.”

“No, you said you wanted someone with more experience following your plans, and these are the consequences for not making a proper plan.”

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose. “There's gotta be someone else-”

“Someone else for what-” Ahsoka’s voice trailed off as she stopped in the opposite entrance.

Sas kept her grin contained as Rex, Ahsoka, and Pyrrha stood in the main hall staring in shock at Obi-Wan. Even though they were all struck differently, it was nice to know she wasn’t the one. Rex and Ahsoka shared similar wide eyed expressions of complete shock, Anakin still wouldn’t look directly at his former Master, and Pyrrha, clutching her helmet, was trembling as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Oh nothing,” Obi-Wan answered the padawan as he crossed over to lean against the couch next to Sas. “Anakin was just thinking I should be replaced. He should know better than that though.”

“Besides, General Kenobi here would get a much better deal than anyone else we would pretend to sell,” Sas chimed in, as she shifted to give him a high five, only to have him clasp her hand in his. Her heart stopped for just a second, but she kept her hand in his.

“It’s not going to make any sense- we need a Togruta to get into the camp,” Anakin complained.

“Well, you do like to improvise, so we’ll improvise,” Obi-Wan answered calmly.

Ahsoka’s brows knitted together as if she were finally starting to make the connection. “I’m definitely not going to wear that,” she muttered, eyeing Obi-Wan skeptically.

“No, you’re not,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “It was already settled. I will be sold off, Anakin and Rex will be the ones to do that. Pyrrha, you may need to take Sas’ place as the third guard since she’s not medically cleared for the mission.”

Pyrrha finally wheezed out the giggles she had been trying to contain. “Wait, I thought the plan was to have four keepers.”

“I mean I have extra gear but that's going to be up to Anakin and if he can stick to the plan this time,” Sas teased.

Anakin sighed, “Yeah sure let's have four, Pyrrha you can switch with Obi-Wan, or maybe Jankari will do it-”

Before Pyrrha could answer, Obi-Wan spoke up again, “No, you just said he had to have a Togruta to get in the prison camps. A human woman isn’t going to get us any closer. I’m your best chance.”

“Master Jedi, Republic High General, makes him a valuable catch, on top of you know the look he has going for him,” Sas added, earning an eye roll from her friend across the room.

“Unless of course you’d like to volunteer to be the captive,” Obi-Wan continued looking pointedly at Anakin. “I’m sure Sas could make some last minute modifications-”

Anakin threw his hands up, “NO.”

“Then it’s settled,” Obi-Wan said, his grin growing wide under his beard.

“Wait one more thing,” Pyrrha started. Rex just tensed up next to her. Clearly the captain just wanted to grab his gear and go. “We gotta get a receipt for Kenobi when we sell him. They might try to get a refund for him after having him around for a while.”

“Oh no, there's no exchanges or returns for this sale,” Obi-Wan said with a small head shake.

“ Is that why Sas hasn’t been able to get rid of you yet?” Pyrrha added with a snicker.

Sas looked up at Obi-Wan, who was looking back down at her, and their hands still clasped together. She couldn’t get rid of him even if she wanted to, is what she wanted to say and she even offered him a small smile. He could probably tell what she was thinking anyway, nothing she said out loud would really matter. So instead she turned back to the group, Anakin had already disappeared down another hall to remove his armor, and said, “Hey Ahsoka, you wanna take Pyrrha’s place as a guard?”

“Does it mean I have to deal with more of,” Ahsoka gestured to the general area between where Anakin walked off and where Obi-Wan was still standing, “this?”

“Probably.”

“I think I’d rather deal with the younglings all week.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you as always for reading, commenting and sharing. I hope you enjoyed :3

Tag list: @heyhawtdawgs @itsonlymyecho @stardustbee @obiwankenobisarm @pickleprickle

Join the tag list here!

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #star wars oc #obi wan #Obi-Wan fanfic #obi-wan X OC #Star wars the clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #clone wars fanfic #Kadavo arc #Ahsoka had no business being in that position #This is what should have happened #Obi-Wan is tired of Anakin's shit #Obi-Wan has just had enough and is going to give Anakin exactly what he asked for these are just the consequences #Sas is also dumb though she takes one look at Obi-Wan and poor girl is gone

34 notes · View notes

1tsjusty0u · 26 days

Text

HER ENTIRE ARC IS ABOUT HATING LINK. THATS THE ONLY DEVELOPMENT AND REALIZATION SHE MAKES IM GOING TO TURN INTO AN OYSTER AND BECOME AN INVASIVE SPECIES ON A DIFFERENT CONTINENT

#the hating link arc is neat. thats fine and cool #BUT COULDNT YOU HAVE GIVEN HER AN ARC THAT ACTUALLY CENTERS AROUND YKNOW. HER STRUGGLE???????????????#SAYING SHES WRONG TO DENY HER FATE AND THAT SHES BOUND TO THIS LIFE SHE HAS NO CONTROL OVER.#I AM GOIJG TO BECOME A DOLPHIN EXCLUSIVELY FOR EVIL PURPOSES I. OTURJJ #it reminds me of the misogyny video. it really is that shes trapped in a narrative not of her own and shes forced to basically be tied to l #ink. i like link. but making her arc center around him making what she does for him making her be the thing she never wanted to be. your sa #batoging one character for another.

28 notes · View notes

angelsdean · 1 year

Text

also re: my dean + sex work post, and especially the quote from 1x08 where dean's talking abt making money through non-legal ways like hustling and scamming and he says, "it's what we were raised to do" and then connecting that to the scene in 1x20 where john tells dean "you know what to do" cut to-- dean playing monster bait (and being nonconsensually kissed by a vampire) and then connecting that to the cut line from 14x14 where dean tells cas that john used to make him play the wide-eyed hitchhiker routine as monster bait on hunts. dean was groomed from a young age by john to see his body as nothing more than a tool and weapon. he learned from a young age that his body is an object. he is daddy's blunt little instrument. he is something that can be used for a purpose and then discarded. he's repeatedly used as a soldier and weapon by john when he's needed and then abandoned and neglected when he's not. and i think that mentality absolutely influenced how he saw his body in relation to sex and sex work. and i'm not saying sex work can't be empowering or positive for some people but in dean's specific case and circumstances it wouldn't have really been a choice but more a desperate last ditch option. but one that he doesn't even waver much on because of all these prior experiences that have primed him for being objectified. like he's already had so much of his personhood stripped, he'd already been objectified as a weapon, seeing himself as expendable and only useful when he's being used. all of this made him so vulnerable and desensitized in a way that sex work for survival wouldn't even be a huge jump for him. it's another way he can be useful and make sure he's providing for his brother and fulfilling his number one job as caretaker.

#so much more that i could say abt this. esp how all of this also primed him to be a vessel for michael later #and then in s14 how his consent as a vessel was violated by AU michael and there's a whole SA reading of that arc that could be done #esp the aftermath. and also during the possession...how dean was locked away = dissociating from what was happening to him #god there's just so much #dean studies #spn 1x08 #mymeta #tw sex work mention #dean and his body #dean and sex #vic.txt

274 notes · View notes

darth-sonny · 1 year

Text

Prime Leo AU Ficlet

Content/Trigger Warnings in the tags

Leo wakes up with his shell to the wall and feels a bit chilly.

His vision takes some time to properly clear up, but the blurry colors he can see give him some odd sense of… familiarity. As if he’s been here before. He rubs his eyes, blinking once, twice, three times until it becomes clear where he is.

He’s in the kitchen of the old lair. Or, what he assumes to be the kitchen of the old lair. Without the cupboards, appliances, and heating installed by dad and Donnie over the years, it just looks like a weird empty room. Leo gets the feeling that if he were to walk out and explore his old home, he’d just see the bones, the base for the home he’s known for thirteen years. He leans his head back, scales resting on the cool wall.

Looking down, he sees that he’s wearing the thick, heavy hoodie Donnie made for him with April’s help. Huh. So, this must be a dream, because Leo only wore that hoodie when he went to bed. Moving his legs, he sighs a bit in relief at seeing that he’s still wearing sweatpants. He’s not in the mood to see all the scars he has on his legs.

He’s not in the mood to see any of his scars in general. But so far, he’s been doing a great job of ignoring them and the problems that they caused. Mikey’s attempts of tricking him into a session with Doctor Feelings get thwarted every time by a conveniently placed Donnie, who claims that he’s just making sure that Leo’s vitals don’t go crazy.

Leo’s thankful for the saves. He can’t stomach a meeting with Doctor Feelings. He’s pretty sure he’d hurt Mikey in some form of way if he had to, and he didn’t want to do that.

Hurting his brothers, his dad, April, Casey, Cassandra…

After waking up with horrible wounds and scars all over him and seeing his family burst into tears when he said hello for what felt like the first time in months, the last thing on Leo’s mind was hurting his family in any way.

A baby’s cry snapped him out of his thoughts.

Turning his head to the left, he saw a semi-run down cardboard box.

The cries came from there.

Was he in a memory? He remembers dad saying that he and his brothers all slept in a cardboard box back when they were babies small enough to fit in the palm of their dad’s hand.

Crawling closer, Leo was ready and expecting to see four baby turtles wiggling around and about to start crying altogether. It was something that drove Splinter up the wall when it came to them; if one of them started crying, then a chain reaction would be set off and not even a minute later, they all ended up crying. Leo and his brothers, thankfully, broke out of that habit once they hit the double digits (sans Mikey, the more empathetic brother/son).

So imagine his surprise when he looks inside the box and doesn’t see four baby turtles, but only one.

Himself.

He’s burrito-wrapped with a light blue blanket, waving his little arms as best he could and screaming his little lungs out. His itty-bitty face is scrunched up, massive tears spilling out of his eyes.

Leo doesn’t remember being a loud crier. That was either Mikey or, on occasion, Donnie. Contrary to popular belief, Leo used to be a quiet baby. He hardly cried, mostly fussed, and said almost nothing until he was four-years-old. Then he started talking and he never stopped.

Gently picking up his baby self, Leo racked his brain for any information on infants. He’s familiar with pediatric care (there was no reason for him to learn it, but he still picked it up just in case April and Sunita ever adopted), but for basic baby care, Leo was lost as hell. Deciding that he had no other better idea, he loosly unwraps the baby and begins to rock him.

He was incredibly little. His head was smaller than the palm of Leo’s hand, and his bitty arms don’t even wrap halfway around Leo’s neck.

Was he really that small back then?

Leo wishes he could go back to those times, where the only thing he and his family had to worry about was if it would get too cold for them to go outside.

Everything seemed so simple back then.

It hurts to think back to those times.

The baby stopped crying by now, letting out small hiccups and garbled chirps as he tightened his grip on Leo’s neck. Though, not by much. Baby strength doesn’t help the little guy out at all.

Laughing just a bit, Leo gently unwraps his baby self's arms around him and lays him out on his legs.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asks, keeping his voice low to not startle the baby.

A fussy churr escapes his little beak as he wipes his face with his blanket-covered hands. Leo smiles a bit at the sight. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he assists his baby self with the task, earning a happy little chirp and a giggle as a thanks.

“I was really cute back then, wasn’t I?” he says, booping the baby’s snout with a finger, earning another giggle. His eyes fell on the hand and arm he lost more than six months, opening and closing his fingers to enjoy it. It was a dream, after all, might as well have this moment to himself.

“You really should enjoy having both of your arms, y’know,” he says while grabbing his baby self’s tiny, chubby, blanket-covered legs. “Because, from me to you, it sucks losing one of them.”

The baby opens his eyes…

…and Leo feels his blood freeze.

He was expecting to see black eyes. Black eyes that would later develop into one blue, and one brown.

The baby’s eyes are red. A familiar haunting red that stares back at him from the mirror, glowing no matter where he is, and reminding him of what happened to him. Of who happened to him.

Leo takes a good long look at the baby, finally noticing the markings over their eyes. They were jagged, almost fancy in a way, and while looking similar to his own, they were pink. His were red.

The blanket fell away from the baby’s hands, revealing the dark ombré they ended in. The color made him sick. It was the same color of the arm that grew out of his stump. The arm that he was stuck with because he was too much of a coward to ask Donnie or Draxum to cut it off.

Gently, he unwraps the baby from the blanket.

Their feet were the same; green scales ending in a dark ombré color. Their tail was longer than Leo’s, almost the same length Raph’s was back when he was a baby. The tip was covered in that same. Damn. Color.

The baby blinks at Leo once, twice, three times, before a wide smile overtakes their face. A gurgly giggle escaped their throat as they stretched their arms towards him, their hands making grabbing motions. The baby’s tail began to wag rapidly.

They’re looking at him with so much love, and happiness, and trust, and adoration…

The same way dad said Leo looked at him when he was freshly mutated.

Leo feels sick.

The baby chirps, churrs, and continues to giggle.

They’re adorable. And they look so much like him.

Leo gently rewraps the baby with the blanket before placing them back in the box.

He then runs to the corner and throws up.

The baby looks like him.

Their eyes are red, their hands and feet and tail have the same color as the arm Leo now has...

All Leo can throw up now is stomach bile.

He can hear the baby crying out for him, and he’s horrified that a part of him wants to go to them, cradle them in his arms, and soothe them.

Leo pinches his arms.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up…”

The baby’s cries grow louder. “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up. Wake. Up!” he continues, rocking himself back and forth. He ignores the chirps, the crying, the confused noises the baby gives off. Ignores how he wants to go over there and hold them. Ignores everything and anything and simply focuses on waking. Up.

“It’s not real, it’s just a dream, it’s not real, it’s just a dream, it’s not real, it’s just a dream…”

The baby keeps crying. Louder and louder.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop…!”

It isn’t until he feels someone touching his shell – in that same way that makes him briefly relieve that damn fucking beach – that he jolts awake and punches the bastard on the snout.

…

……

………

“Ow,” Donnie says.

Leo blinks.

His brother is sitting in front of him, eyes watery as he holds his snout in his hands. He can see blood trickling through the gaps of his fingers.

“Shit,” he mumbles.

He tries to crawl his way toward Donnie, but his twin stops him with one bloody hand.

“It’s good. It’s fine,” he says. Leo can’t help but scoff at that.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, well.” Donnie tips his head back, one hand still on his snout. “I should've seen that coming. Physical touch is a no-no for you, you’re easily startled, and you have a mean left hook. Really should’ve seen that coming.” Leo watches his brother make some faces at the ceiling before sniffing loudly. Donnie lets out a hiss. “Hm. Nope. That was a bad idea.”

“Sorry,” he says, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He scowls slightly at his glove-covered right hand, physical proof that he’s now awake.

“Don’t be. As I said, I should’ve seen that coming.”

He looks around, noticing that his bed (in actuality, it was Donnie’s bed. But Donnie gave it to him after it became clear Leo wasn’t moving back to his own room, and made himself a new one) was unmade, the blanket (it wasn’t blue) appeared to have been haphazardly thrown onto the floor.

Leo opens his mouth to ask what happened, but Donnie (a now new believer of “Twin Telepathy”) beats him to it.

“You had a nightmare. It was bad enough that you threw up on the floor and started shaking.”

“Oh.”

That explained it.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Donnie says. “Everything you did was a normal reaction.”

Leo doesn’t say anything.

Donnie tilts his head forward to look at him. He stopped bleeding by now, but he looks concerned.

“What, uh, what was it about? The… the nightmare.”

Leo blinks.

What…

… What was his nightmare about?

He…

He couldn’t remember…

“I… I don’t know. I forgot. Sorry-”

“I said to stop apologizing.”

Leo closes his beak.

Donnie sighs and gets up, motioning for Leo to follow him. They walk out of Donnie’s room and into the medbay. Leo tries not to wince at being back here again. It’s his medbay, but… having been here far too many times has put something of a damper on its allure.

“Do you still feel like throwing up?”

Leo nods.

Donnie hands him some antacids and a water bottle. He watches as Donnie moves around to gather some tissues to stuff them up his nostrils.

“What about the… bile in your room?” he asks. Donnie waves his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine. I’ll just send one of the DeeDees to clean it up.”

“The… what?"

“DeeDee!” Donnie says proudly. “Acronym for Disinfectant Droid. It’s an army roomba-like robots I built specifically to handle intestinal messes! Very handy and useful, I will say.”

“Oh.” Of course Donnie would build such a thing. “How many are there?”

“As of right now, a dozen.”

“You’re building more?”

“One never knows.”

Leo finishes up the rest of his water bottle.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he says, stuffing his right hand into the pocket of his hoodie, and the left into his sweatpants’ pocket.

“And you won’t!” Donnie sweeps his arm in a flourishing movement, leading his twin out of the medbay and into the TV room. “I’ve been hooking this baby up to connect to my computer so we can play all the games I have there without having to grab two chairs and huddle up around the monitor.” He then produces two controllers out of nowhere. “And, luckily for you, I just about finished these bad boys when you woke up.”

Leo looks at the controllers, then at Donnie, then at the massive TV on the wall, then back at Donnie.

“Can we play Minecraft?”

“Absolutely.”

Twenty-five minutes later, Leo is punching a squawking and enraged Donnie into lava, ignoring his threats about how he’ll kill his parrots with a smile.

#cw sa mention #tw sa mention #cw vomit #tw vomit #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leo hamato #donnie hamato #disaster twins #sonny writes #prime leo au #post prime arc #kirby tag

324 notes · View notes

michyeosseo · 1 month

Text

Just say the word... I could build a town for widows in Gaegyeong.

Honey Lee and Yoon Sa Bong as JO YEO-HWA & JANG SO-WOON

KNIGHT FLOWER (2024) 1.05

#kdramaladies #kdramaedit #kdrama #knight flower #honey lee #yoon sa bong #밤에 피는 꽃 #so very precious much #the arc of myeongdo inn as a widow halfway home ah 'twas the gift that kept on giving #look sowoon does worry about yeohwa #she offers on more than one occasion to fix the situation in her stead #maybe showing up for their pre-dawn bell debrief is enough assurance #she just learned not to let her be more concerned about her concern :')

43 notes · View notes

imviotrash · 1 month

Text

Wishing an underaged character you don't like would get abused is not the hot take y'all think it is...

#I feel like some of you dont understand the character arcs of Ciel and Alois....#Child abuse shouldn't happen AT ALL #Not just to kids you deem as deserving of not being abused #yes Maurice is a little shit but wishing absue (especially SA?!) upon him is crazy #Maurice is an awful character and his actions shouldn't be excused #but I think its important to take a closer look at certain behavioural patterns he displays #a character doesn't have to be abused on screen for shock value for you to understand that they are mentally ill or unwell #vio speaks #maurice cole

19 notes · View notes

staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

Text

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Sequel to Flinching.

Is this the softest Echo fic I've ever written? Yes. Did I cry while writing it? There is no video evidence. @actuallybarb thanks for requesting a second chapter!

Febuwhump Day 2 Ch 2

Flinching – Med OC&Echo

Warnings: Reference to attempted SA, reference to physical assault, some cursing, wound care, energy crash from excessive bacta use, non-intimate undressing, some self-deprecating thoughts

WC: 2,583

The painful control mediating his intentionally even breaths did little to hide the violent tension pulsing through Echo’s taut body with each thrumming beat of his heart. I could feel it in the rush of blood surging through the pulse point of his inner arm, watched it in the ball of muscle locking around his jaw, and I loathed the knowledge that I was the cause of it. Numb to the ache shooting through the abused lip caught between my teeth, I found myself straining for silence in my every tentative movement, struck beneath the weight of fearing my very existence in that moment was enough to further fuel his anger, and I loathed my own timidness just as violently as I loathed the cause of that rage.

“We’re not going to let something like this happen again.” The deep quiet in his whispered promise was so displaced against that frightful anger that I couldn’t help but look up to see the perfect stillness in those amber eyes; the conviction burning through his every word as the man I’d come to treasure for his gentleness suddenly embodied the powerful visage of the GAR’s most elite soldiers. It was easy to forget the simple fact that he’d earned his title of arc trooper; that the exceptional strength of his towering form was merely a small part in what made him such a dangerous force, but, in that moment, I could see a determination in those eyes that only a fool would doubt, and, for the first time in days, I felt safe.

My gaze fell away at the hiss of the medbay door sliding open. Stepping away from him, I ambled numbly about the room to gather my supplies, dreading the crash I knew would hit me mercilessly after smearing that blue gel over my wounds. At the first hitch of breath from abused muscles balking beneath the weight of a tube of bacta, Echo quickly stepped forward to take it from me, hand only just whispering against mine to ease the thick container from my grasp.

“Just tell me what else you need.” He said softly. Maker, I hated this… I’d sprinted through waves of enemy fire carrying over half my body weight in gear to reach wounded soldiers, but, in that moment, I couldn’t manage even retrieving my own damn bacta… Motioning vaguely toward the handful of supplies I’d already gathered, I managed a small shrug.

“That’s probably it, I think.” The words felt so small, and I found myself cringing at the mere sound of them. Tomorrow… Tomorrow I would force that bouncing smile back in place. Tomorrow I would remember every horror I’d faced and conquered. Tomorrow I would remember that I was strong, and I’d find a way to draw back my shoulders and plant my feet beneath me so I could stand tall beside these amazing soldiers – these amazing men… but, as I felt his hand settle gently against my back, I had to grant myself permission to be weak, if only for that night, and, amidst the quiet concern and utter lack of judgement from the man beside me, I found some way to forgive myself for it.

“I’m guessing most of the bruises aren’t just on your face.” He started tentatively, and a small huff left me at the quiet apology in his hinted words, head just shifting in a brief nod. “Are you okay with me helping you? I could get you a blanket – something to help keep you covered.” There was that gentleness I so loved him for; somehow finding a way to draw a small smile to my lips even through the haze of emotion that had robbed me of my strength and left me so deathly tired.

“It’s fine, Echo.” I breathed, shooting him a ragged shadow of a smirk. “Not like I don’t have a breastband on. Plus, medic school has a way of stripping people of that kind of shame.” He let out a knowing chuckle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had similar experiences from his arc training. Still, when I reached up to undo the clasp at my neck, he turned away in some instinctual offer for privacy.

My fond smile lasted just until I’d begun rolling the skin-tight material up my chest, muscles seizing at the movement. Gritting my teeth against the unavoidable hurt, my hand tightened around the black fabric, scowling with the effort to push through the sharp pain tearing through my back and shoulder as I strained to silence the tiny hitches in my breath, the whimper I only just managed to choke back until finally caving, body trembling against the exhaustion and pain and blinding frustration.

“Echo,” his name left my lips in a quiet plea, “um… could you… I seem to be struggling a bit with this damn skinsuit.” He hesitated only a moment before turning back to me, brows just tensing above the darkness that filled those gorgeous eyes.

“Yeah,” he sighed softly, “turn around.” With a slow breath, I turned my back to him, absently reaching out to steady myself against the ledge of the counter. Still, I couldn’t fight back the way my body tensed at the first brush of his hand over the strip of exposed skin at my waist. “Sorry – hand’s probably cold.” He murmured, pausing only briefly in a silent offer for me to pull away.

“Actually, cold sounds pretty nice right now.” I whispered despite the way my body already shook, but the thought of that cold touch against the swollen and bruised skin just hidden by the thin layer of cloth promised a comfort I couldn’t help but crave; a balm to sooth the heat collected in mistreated flesh. Reassured I hadn’t changed my mind, Echo carefully slipped his thumb between the sensitive skin and the bottom hem of my shirt, movements impossibly gentle as he wedged the fabric up an inch at a time, shifting smoothly from side to side.

I knew exactly what he saw that made him suddenly freeze, heard the screaming absence of breath as the air staled in his lungs; felt the way his eyes burred into the mass of dark purple just beneath my rib. Without a word, his touch dragged across my back to push the shirt up just that much more, and he released a tense, shaking exhale. Movements softening into something that threatened to break me, he continued so slowly, I barely felt him until his fingers only just whispered against my neck to grip the bundle as he stepped quietly around me. I fought to hide the grimace twisting over my lips as I tried to move my arms enough to help him slip the garment over my head, but his quiet words quickly stilled that futile effort.

“I’ve got it.” Even that brief attempt to force such a simple movement left me struggling beneath gritted teeth and too-quick breaths, but that didn’t matter when I saw the ice in Echo’s carefully blank expression, eyes studying each mark of that man’s fury marring my chest, the vivid outlines of his hands clearly defined in nearly black shades of purple along my arms and across my throat just beneath where the neckline of my shirt had been, before finally settling on the ruin of my face.

The horrified rage that kept fighting to wrench his expression into a scowl left me frozen, guilt twisting through my chest. I should have just done this myself – should have taken care of it days ago so they never found out to begin with. The tiny tremor in his hand as he reached for me broke my heart, and I couldn’t bring myself to even breathe as his fingers fluttered across my ruined cheek almost too softly for me to feel before carefully slipping around the back of my neck. With such painstaking care, he lowered his forehead to just settle against mine, and I felt the way he shook beneath each purposefully regulated breath, eyes clenching shut against some fleeting struggle for control, and I couldn’t stay silent in the wake of his hurt.

“Hey… I’m okay.” I don’t think I believed those words until I found myself needing to breathe them into the shuddering air trapped between us. “I’m okay, Echo.” My hands moved on their own to whisper softly over the trembling muscle straining against his jaw. “I’m okay.” Only after several more strained breaths did he finally pull back, hand lingering on my neck for just a moment longer as his eyes locked onto mine with a sorrow and guilt that sent tears clawing up my throat. With a final, sharp sigh, he tore his gaze away, stepping back to reach for the tube of bacta.

He couldn’t seem to bring himself to meet my eyes again as he began meticulously covering each discolored patch of skin with that cool gel, touch such a gentle caress, I couldn’t help but find myself leaning into it. The few areas struck hard enough to split the skin, he carefully bandaged with textbook precision. After he tended to my back, I could have thanked him, relieved him of any obligation driving him to address each exposed patch of dark bruises in turn, but I knew that look in those haunted eyes. There was nothing he could do about what had happened, but, this, working to lessen the damage already done, this was with within his power, and it offered as much comfort to him as it did to me. So I stayed quiet, eyes watching the tender movements of his hand as he worked to remove even the memory of that man’s touch.

When he finally turned his ministrations to my face, that tension stole threw him anew. Lips just twitching into something that wanted to be a smile, I let my fingers brush over his wrist.

“It’s alright, Echo,” I promised gently, “you don’t have to-” but before I could finish, he silently raised his hand to the hard lump on the side of my jaw, guiding the clear blue gel carefully along the bruised skin of my cheek, over the painful gash on my lower lip, fingertips just tracing the swollen bridge of my nose. I let my eyes close as he circled the dark flesh surrounding my left eye, and didn’t notice the way my head began to sink forward until my name whispered gently over his lips.

Chest swelling with a nearly forgotten breath, I belated pushed myself back up, eyes reluctantly opening just enough to search for him. The worry pulling his pale face into the beginnings of a frown sent a flush of heat up my neck.

“I’m fine.” I assured him, though even I could hear the slight mumble in my words. “Side effect of using so much bacta.” A hum caught in my throat as I tried to blink away the haze of exhaustion. “And I haven’t… hmm… been a few days since I’ve been able to get much sleep.” His hand slipped carefully around my arm to steady me against the way my body had begun to sway, and I just noticed that tension steal back over him. Forcing some bit of alertness back into my faltering mind, I looked up at him; saw the way his attention had locked onto my hip, and I didn’t need to look to know he could see the outline of a thumb, that he knew the rest of the handprint wrapped around my waist just beneath the fabric.

“Unless you’re terribly eager to get me out of my pants, I think I can take care of the rest.” I whispered, pleased to hear that teasing lilt playing once more with my voice, and even the weak huff of a chuckle it drew from him was a balm to the terrible weight lingering between us. He glanced away from me a moment, jaw working over words he hadn’t yet managed to form before letting his gaze shift tentatively back to mine.

“Why don’t you take Hunter’s cot tonight?” He asked quietly, and I couldn’t hide my surprise at the offer. “He’s on watch for a while and…” The way his words stumbled over his tongue left me frozen, “I’d honestly just feel better if we can keep an eye on you.” A flush of color crept up his neck, silent plea screaming through those eyes. I didn’t answer for a moment, trying to come to terms with the idea, but I was too tired to grasp the thought for long. I just wanted to sleep; to be free of the wretched memory of that night. I didn’t realize how much I truly didn’t want to be alone until hearing the simple need in his words.

“If he doesn’t mind…” I replied hesitantly, failing to fully stifle the whisper of hope in my voice. A relieved smile flashed across his lips, shoulders straightening as he drew in a deep breath.

“I’ll talk to him to make sure. Finish up, and I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” I gave a small nod, hands already reaching for the waistline of my pants as he turned to leave.

I barely remembered the automated motions of lathering those last few bruises hidden around my hips in bacta before stumbling to my personal locker, the way my hands fumbled with the far more forgiving fabric of my sleepwear; the moment my body tried to collapse, falling heavily against the wall as my balance failed me in a strained attempt to step into my shorts.

The distant call of my name sounded more like a memory than a voice, and it wasn’t until hearing the tap at the door that a hum caught in my throat in some useless attempt at a response, only catching a brief glimpse of Echo as the door hissed open before that merciless weight dragged against my eyelids, body slumping sideways. I didn’t hear the quick flurry of words as Echo darted across the room, but the flush of recognition was all I needed to melt into his touch as he quickly pulled me against him.

“Hey-hey; you still with me, Doc?” The warmth of his breath tickled across my scalp, mind begrudgingly working to find some meaning in his voice.

“Mhmm.” The grumble barely made it past my lips, feet belatedly shifting to find purchase beneath me.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed, huh?” The warmth that touched his quiet murmur only further robbed me of any will to move, eagerly pressing further into him. “I know; that stuff can really take it out of you… Come on – just hold onto me, okay?” The world seemed to dance for a moment, wrenching some fleeting whisper of awareness back just enough to find the gentle concern in Echo’s eyes, and then nothing else mattered because I realized he was holding me.

“Echo.” His name stumbled over my lips, head wilting to rest thoughtlessly against his shoulder. “’m so tired.” I could feel his thumb brush softly over my arm as he started slowly through the ship.

“I know,” he breathed. “That’s good. You need to rest. We’ll keep watch.”

Body already rocking beneath the leisurely ebb and flow of exhaustion-dulled breaths, I managed a final hum in some fleeting recognition of his words and readily let the steady rhythm of his strides lull me into a blissfully empty sleep.

Next Chapter

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @ct-0113 @padawancat97 @eclec-tech

#soft echo #seriously #he's so soft in this #star wars #tbb #the bad batch #star wars echo #the bad batch echo #febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #comfort #flinching #tbb echo #my writing #arc trooper echo #attempted sa #wound care

155 notes · View notes