Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

words-writ-in-starlight asked: Okay this probably won't shock you, but I have a request for the five headcanons thing (I thought of this on my walk back to my dorm from my internship and in my defense it's been a long day): Force-sensitive Padme AU.

suzukiblu:

• Padmé gets found on Search by Tahl at like four, which is a little late but Tahl’s just like “lol whatever I was SIX” and THEN is like “would you like to be a Jedi, child? ❤” and Padmé is all “NO, I AM GOING TO BE A POLITICAL-TICIAN.” Tahl is like “omg ❤❤❤” and slightly heartbroken, but okay, fair enough. 
• As a result, Padmé becomes aware that she is Force-sensitive, and is vaguely aware that being Force-sensitive means people can do stuff WITH the Force. She does some light reading during playtime. Her parents are like “sweetie don’t you want to go, you know … actually PLAY?” and she is like “BUT THIS IS SO INTERESTING” and they are just all okay, alright, if you’re sure kiddo. Her sister thinks the Force is boring af but Padmé is faaaascinated. Tahl thinks she is adorable and gives her a few of her own books before she leaves. Padmé is also FIVE, and doesn’t realize that not getting proper training should preclude her from doing Force-ly things. She teaches herself to meditate because she’s vaguely aware that’s a thing that Force-sensitive people do, and then she teaches herself to lift feathers and bend spoons and throw full-sized punching bags across the gym, because she’s vaguely that THOSE things are things that Force-sensitive people do. She is not at ALL aware that Tahl never expected her to be quite so good at reading between the lines in those books she left and figuring out how to do all this shit. 
• Later on, Baby Padmé sends the Jedi Temple a very serious little hand-written letter addressed to “Miss Lady Jedi Tahl” about how she would like to borrow some other books, please, Miss Lady Jedi. The books she has now are VERY good books and she likes them very MUCH, but she has read them all now and she would like to learn more new things but because she has read them all she can’t learn new things. Also please accept this courtesy gift of a copy of her two favorite picture books, “The Junior Legislator’s Guide To Drafting A Peace Treaty” and “The Junior Legislator’s Guide To Firearm Use And Maintenance”, thank you very much. Tahl is SO ENAMORED and sends her PROBABLY WAY TOO MANY BOOKS, TO BE FRANK. Padmé reads them all. Repeatedly. And TAKES NOTES. 
  
• Everyone on Naboo who knows her well is politely baffled by but supportive of her interests, although they don’t let it get around that the new Queen is basically a mail-order Jedi because that would sort of defeat the purpose of having decoys. Anyway, Padmé never did get around to testing out that lightsaber design; blasters are just SO convenient. Ranged weapons are a gift and they are not a gift Padmé Amidala is going to waste, thank you very much. 
• Anakin was already going to be doomed, of course, but when he finds out the amazing angel he’s just met can DEFLECT BLASTER BOLTS BARE-HANDED … yeah, yeah, Anakin Skywalker is in love. He is in tiny nine year-old hero-worship love and he will NEVER EVER NOT BE, EVER, PADME PLEASE TEACH ME HOW YOU DID THAT I WILL SHOW YOU HOW TO HOTWIRE A SPEEDER?? Padmé’s all “oh no Annie it’s nothing ❤” and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are like “NO, NO, IT IS DEFINITELY SOMETHING o_O”. 

This went EXACTLY where I hoped it would.

Anonymous asked: Shmi Skywalker and Padme Amidala, the Force ghosts that never were.

peradii:

• One day in the future, a girl will ask of her maybe-father definitely-teacher (one is likely; the other is a certainty; she calls him Master because she wants no other family than that she has chosen): where did Skywalker come from. And the Master will say from my father he was a great man and a terrible one and – and the girl will shake her head, chew her lip, say, did he choose it and the Master will frown (a pucker between his brows; a corrugation of his lined, weatherbeaten face) and say, no his mother chose it and the girl will say who was she and the man will say a slave on Tattooine; my uncle’s brother’s second wife and no more. He knows no more. Don’t blame him.
  
• Do not blame the teacher-before either. You knew him as an old man, old and strong and lonely, but once he was a boy with a snake-tail of a braid and an empty space under his heart where love once rested. He watches his Master die and he tries to shoulder a burden that is absurd in its immensity. Train the boy who will save everything. Imagine that. Imagine. And, yes, he says this boy must come with us but remember: the Force is endless hunger, an animal. It isn’t willfully cruel – no more than the ocean. But if you do not learn to swim, you die. If a boy strong with the Force is not trained, he will surely perish.
• (or worse. There are horror stories.)
• Blame, perhaps, the council, so anchored in their ways that they do not permit the child to see his mother. Blame, perhaps, the Jedi so ancient and so wise who take their Chosen One and tell him that he can save the universe and all he loves, blame them who take a nine year old from his mother and give him weapons to hold instead of hands. Fight fight fight but only when you are told to. Kill without mercy when we say otherwise show limitless mercy. Do as you are bidden always and forever. Save everything. Master your feelings. Have no feelings.
• From my point of view the Jedi are evil! – what are those but the words of a lost, stupid boy, trusting only in the fierceness of his own heart and the iron surety of his convictions.
• Blame the boy. Maybe. After all: this was his choice. He did not have to listen to older and wiser heads that said go to war and afterwards tend to your mother. He did not have to cut down children. He did not have to.
• Children. Definition: the youngsters of any race. Before the younglings in the temple there were the Sand People, the tiny ones, J'Wratha and Taraka and those are only two, sliced apart in front of their mother. He was damned before the temple. Do you understand?
• If you do not: we return to Shmi. And here she is:

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Anonymous asked: force ghost!Anakin's adventures in being an asshole even while dead. go.

peradii:

• Here is how it does not happen: Anakin Skywalker dies. Fluid mouldering in his lungs, internal organs collapsing into puddles of useless rancid slurry, blood thickening with toxins – but he dies at peace, he dies with his eyes wide open, he dies with his son (his beloved and only boy) crouched over him and he wakes on the other side with softness and light gracing his unscarred brow, his wife at his side, flowers twisted in the starlit curls of her hair.
  
• This is how it does not happen: the ghost of Anakin Skywalker is a thin, flimsy thing, coming to life here and there, always bright blue, always smiling, offering paternal advice to those who would listen.
  
• This is another thing that does not happen: Rey sees a strange man cresting the red dunes and she never sees his face, only the brightness of his eyes, and she is comforted – for she does not know his name, only that he is a kindly force, only that even in the feral iron heart of Jakku she is watched over.
  
• Here is something that does happen: “Listen to me, you bastard, you bastard, you have to listen –” and Kylo Ren does not hear. Rather: he chooses not to hear. He is meditating. Sunmatter dances around him, catching on the flick-curl of his blackened cape. Well. He thinks that it is sunmatter; this is what Snoke has told him it is; and so this is what he believes; and of course it is not sunmatter but the fire-bright venom of Anakin Skywalker’s ghost. He’s not white-blue and delicate. He is burning.
  
• Of course he burns: he’s full of fury and everything I died for you are unmaking and if you want I will tell you how it feels to die drowning in your blood I will tell you and if you lay a hand – a finger – on my children, my darlings, then grandson or not I will show you –
  
• “You tore down every I built!” Padme screamed, when she saw him for the first time. His mouth half-cooked. His body spectral and quivering. And his lovely wife – no longer delicate and pale as a shivering lily but quicksilver and burning, bright as Alderaan falling into dust. Livid spots of colour on her cheeks. “You burned my diplomacy! I loved you but Maker above – I loved the council just as much – my sweet children were torn from my arms – I loved you so much and you destroyed everything I loved –”
  
• My darling –
• I love you –
• You were everything good in my world; the only good thing in my world –
• Skywalker, Skywalker, she had said, that is the – that was the problem –
• So here is the boy Anakin Skywalker, skin full of fire, and his afterlife is anything but easy.
  
• You wouldn’t, his son says to him, slack-jawed with horror, he’s your grandson, he’s –
  
• He’s destroying everything I built. You know I once knew a good woman. And she watched as someone she loved burn all she loved down. And she let him live. And I won’t make her mistake. Do you understand?
  
• You’re not Vader anymore; you don’t have to be so ruthless, Luke says, fretful and old and when did he become so old? Why does he look so much like Kenobi, bent-backed against the assault of the Force?
  
• “This isn’t Vader,” says Anakin Skywalker, “this is all me.” And it is true. He is a soldier. He is the saviour of the known and unknown world. He was torn from his mother’s arms and given a sword to hold instead of a hand. How else could he grow up? How else could he die?
  
• Listen to me listen to me listen to me he snarls in Kylo Ren’s ear and with each day the boy listens less and Anakin tries less. He is dead and he is furious and perhaps this is hell; this irony. He tore down Padme’s love and her lifework and now he must watch a sickly imitation of Vader do the same to his love, to his life.   
  
• Kylo Ren will, one day, lift his lightsabre against his mother – or his uncle. The blow will never fall. Anakin will pour his fury and fire and limitless power into the boy’s skull and burn him from the inside out. One day, the Knight of Ren will attempt to fufill what he thinks is Vader’s legacy. One day, he will learn – too late – that Vader is nothing, nothing, nothing compared to the anger of Anakin Skywalker.  
  

The Pen Pal AU

fialleril:

Okay, curse you all, now I have all sorts of headcanons for That One Where Padmé and Anakin Are Pen Pals.

• So Padmé gives Anakin her com frequency before he leaves Naboo at the end of TPM, because she cares about this kid and she wants to make sure he’s all right, and she doesn’t know that the Jedi non-attachment rule is going to mean he’s not supposed to keep in touch with her at all.
• When she doesn’t hear from him at first she figures he’s probably really busy, settling in and starting his Jedi training and all that, so she gives him time.
• But when she still doesn’t hear from him eventually she gets worried and shoots him a quick message, basically just “Hey how are you?”
• It takes him a while to reply and when he does it’s not anything Padmé was expecting. “The Council says I’m not supposed to talk to you because you’re an attachment, like my mom, and I have to let you go if I’m going to be a Jedi. But I want to keep talking to you. You’re my friend.”
• So now Padmé’s all righteously angry so she says, “Well to hell with that. You’re my friend too. So how are you with encryptions?”
• And Anakin sends back some super goofy winking space emoji and he’s like, “I grew up in the Quarters we have a secret language and also me and Kitster had a code I’ve got this.”

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raptorific:

the main reason I can’t buy the “rey is anakin skywalker reincarnated” theory is that I can’t accept that anakin skywalker’s soul could exist on another sand planet for 15 years without immediately going to the dark side

Honestly Luke wouldn’t even blame him.

(via suzukiblu)

thesallowbeldam asked: If you're still doing prompts? Cry-lo Ren travels to Korriban (for whatever reason) and takes shelter in a Sith tomb. The spirits of the dead take this fantastic opportunity to rip this pathetic immitator a new. I'm talking Com. Plete. Savage. Bollocking. (that means a lecture btw)

My buddy, my pal, it’s safe to assume that I’m ALWAYS taking prompts.  (I might get to the point where I’m busy enough that it might take me a while to fill them, but I’m always taking prompts.)  Now, I’ll admit that I’m not super well versed in Sith history, and the Sith Lord I’m most familiar with is…well, Vader, who failed to die a Sith Lord and didn’t get entombed on Korriban.  I’ve always kind of liked the mental image of Darth Sidious being disappointed in Kylo, though, so yeah.  Also, I don’t know what happened to Palpatine’s ghost and it appears that neither does anyone else, so we’re going to handwave some stuff because Force.

Personal shuttle crashes are, generally speaking, remarkably easy to survive.  Battlestars or cruisers are bulky and built to survive damage in the black, but a planet-side crash turns them into an avalanche of wreckage.  Fighters, small and quick and light, shatter like glass more often than not, and even when they don’t, their mostly-engine structure doesn’t play well with the heat of a crash.  A personal shuttle, though, is small and sturdy and designed to survive an emergency landing, even if the emergency in question is ‘falling out of the sky.’

“Engines do not just kriffing fail,” Kylo Ren hissed as he pulled himself out of his shuttle and trying to adjust to the heavier gravity.  He snarled a string of curses in a handful of languages, giving a sharp kick to the hull and repressing a grimace of pain.  Snoke would be furious if he missed his ordered arrival time, no matter how good his explanation was, and Kylo felt a shudder down his spine.  He refused to admit that it might be fear.  “There isn’t even anything wrong with this piece of bantha shit,” he shouted, thumping it with a fist.  He raked a gloved hand through his hair—the helmet was still inside the shuttle somewhere—and stared around him at the valley he’d wrecked in.

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