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

Anonymous asked: I wish you would write a fic where you just fuck me up with the life-ruining kind of Anidala, I really just wish that.

Oh but friend, where would we start?

Canon?  BECAUSE CANON IS PRETTY BAD.

But no, we can do better.

The AU where Vader is the one to walk away from Mustafar and he goes to Padme and takes her in his arms and his Darkness and kisses her and says “anything, anything for you, my angel” and she is faced with a choice: use this weapon who’s come to her hand and trying to save the galaxy from him by conquering it, or take her children, soft fragile corruptible things that they are, and run as far as she can, hoping that the galaxy will be able to save itself while she saves them?

The AU where Anakin, small and alone and barely not-a-slave for more than a breath, has a vision on the ship traveling back from Tatooine, and wakes up screaming his throat raw for…something, and Padme comes and tries to take him in her arms and comfort him–a child-queen responding to the fear of a child-Jedi–and he flinches away like she’s lit him on fire?

The AU where they return to Coruscant and Anakin is turned away, and they go to Naboo and Qui-Gon dies and Anakin is turned away, and away, and away, until he’s lost and powerful and scared and angry, and Padme comes and takes his hand and stares at the Jedi and says “he is Naboo and I will buy out his contract and he will be free” and, surrounded by her handmaidens that night, realizes that she’s responsible for training him how to not drown in the Force and how to be kind and how to be gentle and how to be a free person?

The AU where they’re at war with the Separatists and some rageful clone from the 501st abandons his brothers and turns on his General and does what they had all agreed not to do, and goes to the Jedi Council and says “Skywalker has broken the Code,” and Anakin is cast out, disowned by the Jedi, disgraced in the army, distrusted by Obi-Wan, and Padme may be everything, but even Padme is not enough to replace all those people?

The AU where Padme is what breaks Vader in a whole other way, held like a threat over his head, like a promise just before his fingers, like spun crystal ready to be broken between Sidious’ fingers at any moment?

The AU where nothing changes except that Vader, burned and trapped in a torture-suit and broken to the will of his latest Master, feels a burst of power in the Force and he knows that power, he knows that mind, it’s Padme, Padme is alive and she will understand/forgive/hate/save/kill him, because Padme is stronger than he ever could have been, and Vader tears across the galaxy only to find…children, two children, a baby girl with Padme’s dark curls and his angry stare, a baby boy with his sandstorm-dust locks and her sweet smile, and they are his/hers/theirs/no one’s, but where is Padme?

Or.  Well.  There’s always the AU We Do Not Speak Of.  

Surely emotion is not wicked at its core, young Padme says, surely not, and she reaches out, learns to shape the Force with her passions and her loves and her rages and her laughs, and it is warm and rich and wild and vicious and everything she is (and surely this cannot be the Dark Side), and when she stands on the Tatooine sand and meets a boy who shines like a sun, some part of her mind (the part that’s seen people die because their vaunted politicians took too long to see them suffering, the part that’s seen wars start over petty arguments and diplomatic differences, the part that looks around Tatooine and thinks look at all these suffering people, if only I had the power to save them) says yesssss.  And she reaches out and she takes his hand and she stays in touch and she assures him that no, emotion is not wrong, love is not wrong, Attachment is not wrong, he is not wrong, and one day…oh, one day he comes to her, wild-eyed, with the words of another person on his tongue and talk about Sith, and she does her research and she thinks look at all these suffering people, if only I had the power, and…

Well.  Padme only wants to help.  Surely the ends justify the means.  Surely this cannot be Dark, if it’s to save starving children and wounded soldiers and slaves.

And the Empire rises under the command of its Empress and her iron fist, Darth Vader.

Anonymous asked: honestly i'm not sure to hate you or love you (love, it's love) because that cliffhanger is so coMPELLING!

I love you too, babe, but I’m also feeding on your distress, so take it as you will.  I’m glad you liked the thing, cliffhanger notwithstanding!

Anonymous asked: So about this Jedi AU I see that you have all the things about John and Ham but what about Burr? Ham and John have perfect moral compass that doesnt stray but what about Burr and maybe straying between Jedi and Sith and getting corrupted by TJeff idk

All right, my bespectacled buddy, how fortunate, because I have Thoughts about Jedi Aaron Burr.  Also, there is now a tag for this AU.

I suppose I should mention that I actually have no idea where the Sith fit in this universe.  For a story of sweeping good and evil, the Sith and the Jedi are the logical ends of the spectrum, but a revolution…isn’t that simple.  For every General Benedict Arnold ready to turn on his country for wounded pride, there’s a plain soldier ready to go too far in defense of what he believes is freedom, ready to tar and feather someone for the crime of an accent or a birth–the line blurs.  The opponent of a revolution is, in fact, lack of emotion.  Passion drives a revolution.  The Jedi…are not at ease with this.  Honestly, the Sith are probably sitting in some corner of the galaxy sulking over the fact that they are suddenly quite superfluous.  Between the Empire and the Continentals, there’s more than enough chaos to go around.

• First, Aaron Burr is actually the best Jedi–he’s not like Washington, putting up a good facade while he gets secret-married and bides his time for a revolution, nor like Lee, who basks in the glory and honor of being a Jedi Master.  Burr really believes it, there is no emotion, there is no ignorance, there is no passion, there is no chaos, there is no death.  He’s uncannily good at it, taking whatever the universe throws at him with the same serene smile.  He’s so good at it, in fact, that his Master, upon recommending him for Knighthood, added that they would do well to find him something to fight for.  That he could be great, if he had something to fight for.
  
• Even a Jedi needs ideals, is the thing.
• The first time Burr meets Alexander Hamilton, the feral Force user challenges him with if you stand for nothing, what’ll you fall for?
• He…doesn’t have an answer, he doesn’t even think he understands the question, and that…that’s new.
• Aaron Burr goes to Washington, with his glowing Jedi record and an offer of help, and it goes about how it did in reality/the musical.
• Washington: I am in dire need of assistance!
• Burr: Hey, I am 100% down to be a secretary.
• Washington: It’s not that dire, take it easy.  Hey, angry fighty barely-not-a-teenager Hamilton, you want a job?  No?  Sure you do.
• Aaron is left standing there, overwhelmed with emotion for the first time in his life, and the envy is almost baffling.  But it’s all right, it’s fine, he can take a couple of deep breaths and let it go, there is no emotion, there is no passion, and he smiles and smiles and nods and takes the command he’s offered as…the word consolation rises in his mind and he dismisses it with a vengeance.  Aaron Burr is a Jedi, like his Master and her Master before her, and his Master crafted a new lightsaber form, she was a genius, her Master did a lengthy stint on the Council, he commanded respect–no lineage of theirs is unstable enough to need consoling.  He has a legacy to protect.  The hot twist in his gut is only discomfort at how wrong-footed Hamilton makes him, the rushing in his ears only the Force spinning wild in the war.
• Aaron Burr fights in the war.  Makes quite a name for himself, actually, as crisp and efficient in every way.  It’s not a bad reputation to have, especially once he brings that reputation to bear and puts down a mutiny about a year before Monmouth.  Admittedly he’s not close with his men, but that’s fine.  He’s a Jedi, their commander, and that’s all he needs.  Even once he suffers a mild Force burnout and a much more serious heat stroke over Monmouth, he is still of use to the army, even if he can’t fight anymore, and that’s fine, that’s enough, he’s all right with that, because there is peace, serenity, harmony, Force.
• He crosses paths with Hamilton often, the man apparently permanently installed in Washington’s orbit, opposite Lafayette and beside Washington’s own padawan.  Burr refuses to admit to that flare of bitter heat through his chest every time Hamilton comes bounding up to him, grinning, and greets him like an old friend, spilling joy-irritation-grief-anger-laughter through the Force.  Hamilton is a never-ending torrent of emotion, always preferring to fight a battle rather than let it stand, and just being around him feels like it’s contagious.
• It doesn’t help that Aaron still feels (or rather, refuses to feel) that twist of envy every time he watches Hamilton spin words out of thin air, feels him move through the Force like he’s a part of it–abrasive and emotional as he is, Hamilton is better than Aaron, and he doesn’t understand why.  Peace over emotion, serenity over passion, and yet…and yet Hamilton is wild as anything and still better.
• It’s made worse by the fact that Hamilton doesn’t seem to notice.  He considers Burr a friend, and he thinks Burr is brilliant–that’s just how he works.  Hamilton doesn’t grant friendship to fools, and therefore all his friends must be as wickedly knife-edge sharp as he is, Laurens and Burr and Lafayette and Washington and, and, and….
• Hamilton is a hurricane, and all that can be done is to let him sweep you up and trust that you’ll understand eventually.
• He is not, cannot be, will not be jealous.  He is a Jedi and he will let go his emotions and if letting go feels more like swallowing down, these days, then surely it is only the stress.  He just needs to meditate.  It will go away.
• And now here is a question.  Suppose a man spends all his time, for years on end, forcing himself into the trap of the Jedi code and withstanding Hamilton Feeling in his direction constantly, whether it’s the man’s oddly pure and childlike delight with having friends or his eternal aggravation with Burr’s indeterminate politics and philosophy and everything else.  Now suppose that man finally, finally, loses his temper.
• How do you suppose that such a thing will erupt?

Anonymous asked: So, about this Hamilton Star Wars AU: I have noticed an unacceptable lack of Hamilton/Laurens headcanons and feelings and urge you to inflict these on us at your earliest convenience.

Oh, sorry, friend, it looks like you’ve got a typo, I think you meant hey, Moran, inflict your thoughts on Space Monmouth on us, seeing as Laurens almost died there. 

• Washington, by this point, has been SOUNDLY outed as a Bad Code-Breaking Jedi (with a wife, the Council would like to reiterate).  So the Congress governing the Continental systems decided that they needed to save face a little and made Washington promote Master Lee to the rank of Major General, because his record as a Jedi is impeccable.
  
• Um, naturally, way back when they first meet, Lee takes one look at Washington’s padawan and launches into a truly epic lecture about the dangers and crimes of attachment.  Laurens poker-faces through the whole thing and Hamilton instantly and deeply loathes Lee, because Laurens starts to retreat again.  It’s taken him months to coax Laurens into kissing him, into letting him slip into his bunk and nestle into him sleepily.  Laurens has even started being the one to initiate, tugging Hamilton down by the hand and wrapping long arms around him, pressing skin to skin.  That changes with Lee standing around, looking judgemental.
• That’s okay, though, because Laurens deeply and sincerely loathes Lee for the dispassionate report that Hamilton died at Schuylkill.  Everyone hates Lee, basically.
• Lee actually turns down the command at first because he’s offended at how small it is, never mind that the Continental army is desperately strapped for men and fighters alike.  Washington has the best deadpan in the business, which is the only reason that Lee doesn’t know how relieved he is to hand the command over to Lafayette.
• Of course, then Lee comes back and says he’s going to take command after all, and attack the Empire troops as they leave the desert moon Monmouth, where they spent their own winter.  Washington still holds up that deadpan, because the only other option is to rest his head on the table and swear like a smuggler.
• So they go to battle, Laurens and Hamilton among the fighters Lee leads down into the atmosphere.  The heat from low-atmo combat is so awful a few ships–Continental and Imperial alike–malfunction on the spot and go down in flaming wreckage, all hands dead.
• Here’s the thing.  There’s a trend across Laurens and Hamilton’s experience in battle.  
• At Brandywine, Laurens almost died, after taking a blaster shot to the shoulder.
• Schuylkill was Schuylkill.
• On the Island, Hamilton broke onto an Imperial ship and stole twenty-one out of twenty-four top-of-the-line fighters, while ignoring heavy strafing fire from a battlecruiser.  Hercules, who was there, swears up and down that it gave him grey hair.
• Innumerable other skirmishes have proved that, given the opening, they’re more likely to risk their necks than preserve them.
• They should be used to it, is the thing.  And Laurens might be, if he does say so himself, because Hamilton can find a near-lethal fight with any civilian on the street.  Hamilton, on the other hand, is not, and when Laurens is shot out of the sky, he doesn’t even try to find the other man’s Force signature before he panics.
• Lee is a coward at heart.  He’s not prepared to face the brutal heat, nor the desperation of the Imperial troops, nor the explosion of a Force-hurricane at the combat line.  He runs, and when he runs, the ragged Continental line shatters.
• And then the General’s personal fighter, the Vernon, comes screaming in from the edge of the atmosphere with Lafayette’s Marquis on his wing and the hurricane of Hamilton’s power still roaring so that even the soldiers with less Force-sense than a potato can feel it, and the Continentalists rally with a vengeance.  It’s not a win, but they’ve proved they can hold their line.
• Laurens is pulled out of his wreckage, almost completely uninjured and drenched in Hamilton’s Force signature.  Laurens doesn’t know what happened, and Hamilton isn’t talking.  
• Lee starts talking shit, because Lee is terrible.
• Washington takes a minute, thinks about it, and immediately issues an order that Hamilton have nothing to do with Lee, because Hamilton is on the warpath about Laurens’ latest brush with death.
• Unfortunately, he fails to get ahead of Laurens himself, who is finally reaching his breaking point.  And who would probably jump off a space deck without a suit if Hamilton wanted him to.
• LIGHTSABER DUELS.  HAMILTON DOES NOT LIKE THEM.
• No, seriously, Jedi, Hamilton wants to know why you don’t use blasters like sane people.  He really does.  Using blasters and the Force together is both convenient and fun.  And ranged.  Get on his level.  
• Hamilton almost has a heart attack when he hears someone scream on the dueling ground, and the organ only resumes normal function when Laurens flicks off his lightsaber and lets Lee drop to the ground, a long cauterized wound to the ex-general’s ribs still smoking.
• Laurens is in trouble (Washington would like to be on record that he’s been encouraging attachment, not rampant violence, and he’s very disappointed), but Hamilton…oh, Hamilton is really in trouble.  Because Laurens can call it acting impulsively and ‘a learning experience,’ but Hamilton disobeyed a direct order.
• Washington doesn’t say “I’d send you home but this ship is the only one you have,” but it’s a near thing, and Hamilton looks crushed nonetheless.  It’s a bad day for everyone.
• Instead of being sent ‘home,’ Hamilton is sent away from the front lines (away from John, a greedy part of his mind mutters, and holocalls are so interceptible, they won’t even be able to see each other, letters only), to serve as a liaison and bodyguard for their best supply ship.
• The Revelation picks up its new passenger on its next pass.  At least he’s old friends with the sisters, Hamilton thinks glumly as he lets Eliza crush him in a hug and ruffles his hand through Peggy’s hair to make her squawk in offence and call for Angelica.
• Still.
• The girls aren’t Laurens.

skymurdock asked: Hamilton and Jedi padawan!Laurens in the middle of the Space Revolutionary War and afterwards, possibly SCREAMING AT JEFFERSON in the middle of a Senate session.

Okay so during the Space Revolutionary War, here’s a few things that DEFINITELY happen.

• First of all, Hamilton and Laurens and Lafayette and Mulligan are all involved about a year and a half earlier than they were in actual-facts history, which only matters because PINING.  So Laurens spends about a year Dealing with Hamilton, not least because he’s the only person who ever has any success managing him (after the third time Washington finds Hamilton passed out at a table after two days of work, he officially adds Hamilton Wrangling to Laurens’ list of padawan duties).  And this is made difficult because Hamilton is of the opinion that vows of non-attachment are stupid and also Laurens has a bad habit of Attaching all over the place, so he Suffers.
  
  
• Riiiiight up until about the eight month mark at which point Laurens is exhausted from whatever they’ve been up to and reels right over until his face is buried in the curve of Hamilton’s neck and his lanky body is pressed up against Hamilton’s smaller form.  He mumbles something about ‘just so tired of not getting to do this’ and that…is pretty much that.  Hamilton is so smug every Jedi in the quadrant can practically taste it.  They’re not great at being subtle, but, like, there’s no evidence and they’re not bad at being subtle either, so really just Lafayette really KNOWS, and Laurens feels.  So.  Guilty.  But Hamilton is like gravity, and the guilt always somehow takes a backseat when the feral Force user kisses him.
  
  
• There’s a space battle on the edge of the Schuylkill Asteroid Belt, some two years into the war, while they’re hidden on Valley Forge.  Alexander Hamilton is shot down and lost in the belt, according to the comm Lee sends them.  Laurens can’t find him in the Force, can’t feel him anywhere, and, while Laurens isn’t particularly strong with the Force (not like Alex, he thinks wildly, not like Alex who drags his own personal hurricane wherever he goes), the pulse of pain that rips out from him is so intense it leaves the other Jedi and Force-sensitives in Washington’s inner military family gasping.  
• “General Washington, sir,” Hamilton pants as he all but onto the bridge of Washington’s ship, charred in places and his escape pod literally falling apart in the landing bay.  There’s a long pause, and he looks around, bemused, at the shocked faces around him.  “Uh, did I miss something?”
  
• That night, Laurens pushes Hamilton down onto his bunk and curls up around him, until his senses are flooded with nothing but him, and the only thing he can sense in the Force is the hurricane, set to the beat of Alex’s heart.
• Listening to the frantic Force signature of his student wind down into something exhausted, Washington very quietly gets in contact with a woman by the name of Martha and casually suggests that she look into coming to visit Valley Forge now that he’s in so much trouble with the Council anyway.

(to tune of Non-Stop)  AFTER the War, they went back to the Continental systems.  (Doesn’t really scan, does it.)

• So Hamilton’s not married to Eliza in this AU because the Schuyler Sisters are still kicking ALL the ass (WORK), he and Laurens have been a thing for a while now (and Laurens is getting past some of his issues on GWash’s example), and the Jedi Council, let’s be real, is pretty much not okay with any of the Space Revolutionary War.  Not least because Best Jedi Ever George Washington has been happily married for like TEN YEARS NOW and they’re all feeling kind of humiliated.  So the Council fractures right down the middle, and on the one side you have the Traditionalists and on the other side you have…I dunno, Reform Jedi?  Reform Jedi, we’re calling them that.  And the Reform Jedi decide to integrate themselves into the new government of the Continental systems, which have renamed themselves the American systems (because I do what I want), aaaand that’s where TJeffs comes in.  Ex-ambassador to Coruscant from Washington’s home planet.

• Jefferson’s Force-sensitive, but not enough to be trained as a Jedi (and yes, he’s bitter), so he meets Hamilton and then things unravel from there.  Their FIRST MEETING involves the debate of “is each planet going to be financially sovereign or not”, and Hamilton’s very logical response is “obviously not, because YOUR planet might be all temperate climates and arable land, but, say, the planet containing our current capital is NOT, each planet needs to be able to depend on each other.”  And Jefferson, Force bless him, opens his counter-argument with something to the effect of “are we going to take recommendations on how to financially manage a unification of systems from a feral Force user from the ass end of the galaxy, what possible use could he be.”
• Laurens is literally an entire system away, mopping up some of the last of the mess, and he still feels Hamilton lose his temper.

LIST THE FIRST PARAGRAPH OF YOUR LAST TEN FICS (AND SEE IF THERE ARE ANY PATTERNS)

I’m limiting myself to just fic-fics, not bullet-point-fics, because, like, I put out too much stuff.  Thanks to @buckygreyjoy for tagging me.

1) “This guy needs to chill out,” Chat Noir said, shooting a smirk at Ladybug to see her nose crinkle up.  Her look of fond distaste was the highlight of his day, every day, the kind of friendly teasing Adrien had always wished for as a little boy. The only thing better was when she actually shot a joke back at him, leaving a warm weight in his chest and a smile on his face.  –from this untitled canon Miraculous Ladybug fic 

2) Enjolras is a wished-for child, and he’s told as much every day by his mother, who bought his life with a few drops of blood on white silk in a gold embroidery hoop.  From the minute he learns to talk, he’s as fair as the sun and as sharp as her needle, and his country adores their young prince with their whole heart.  His mother Queen Lamarque is a good ruler and her Prince Consort is nice enough so all is well, and Enjolras grows up believing passionately in the rights of the people.  His tutors despair of him as a monarch but are delighted with him as a politician—it’s very strange for everyone.  –from this untitled Snow White AU Les Mis fic

3)  The message from Lee was greeted by a long beat of silence.  –from to see our glory, a canon-era Hamilton fic about Schuylkill, continued here

4) Eponine is ten, with parents who hate her and a little brother she’s terrified for, when she gets hit in the chest with a pebble.  Some other kid tossed it and it’s pouring rain and they probably didn’t even see her, but she goes down like she’s been shot.  –from a flower at my feet, a reincarnation AU Les Mis fic

5)  “Excuse me, sir, are you awake?”  The voice was feminine, warm and husky and stern, with a distinctive curl to the words, slack on the r and sharp over the vowels. New York City, then.  Home.  –from this as-yet-unpublished Winter Soldier AU Hamilton fic

6)  The landslide didn’t take him by surprise.  It was hard to take an earthbender by surprise, and harder when that earthbender had spent ten years mostly fending for himself.  So Grantaire was well out of the path of the falling rocks before they started to slip, and fully intended to let nature take its course.  The rocks were large, but they could be cleared easily, and he was trying to make this village last more than a season, which meant not doing things like diverting massive rockslides.  –from things we lost in the fire, an Avatar AU Les Mis fic

7) She isn’t a Skywalker—or maybe she is.  She can’t remember, so does it matter?  She is herself.  –from Shattered Glass and Sandstorms, a First Oder Rey Star Wars AU

8) John hadn’t slept heavily since coming to Valley Forge—the ill ease of a Southern boy exposed to the bitter nip of a Pennsylvania winter for the first time—but he was getting better at it.  The tiny hut was better than the tent, and their status as aides de camp of the general himself meant that they were only two to a hut.  It meant there was barely space to walk between the slapdash cots and the writing desk they shared and the two chairs. Alexander—who had insisted on the familiar address within scant days of meeting John, all sharp-edged smile and warm dark eyes—had a slightly easier time of it, as he wasn’t forced to stand with his head bowed whenever he drew too near a wall, but not much.  –from this untitled canon-era Hamilton fic

9) “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had–”  –from this untitled Steve/Sam/Bucky friendship MCU fic

10) “Oh m’God, who’s cooking, that is amazing,” Rogue called as she swept into the mansion and was hit by a wall of smoky-sweet warmth spilling from the kitchen.  “Is that jambalaya?  Am I gonna have to do extra Danger Room sessions or somethin’ for that?” –from this untitled Rogue/Remy X-Men fic

Honestly? The first thought that comes to mind is “I write too much Les Mis fic for someone who’s never read the book all the way through” but fuck it, I do what I want.  Otherwise, I notice that I like to start with either a declarative statement (see 2, 3, 4, 6, 7) or someone doing something, preferably talking (see 1, 5, 9, 10), and heavy description as a cold open (8) is pretty uncommon.  Um, yeah, that’s what I got.  

In case anyone’s curious, I’m really proud of the First Order Rey one and I love the X-Men so y’all should feel free to hit me up for that.  Also, guess who has two thumbs and is a huge AmRev nerd?  *points at self*  So yeah, for all your gay canon-era Hamilton needs.

I don’t even fucking know who to tag, just.  Whoever.  It’s kind of cathartic going through old writing, you should do it if you’ve had a long day.

5 Headcanons AU Meme

Prompt from @littlestartopaz​: Max and Lessa role reversal?  (Reminder that Max and Lessa are the main characters of my novel Polaris, explained in more detail here.)

• Okay so, in this world, Max grows up Margaret Stone, with long hair and makeup and heels and money.  She wants to strip off her skin.   Lessa, full name unknown, on the other hand, is on the street at eleven and picked up by Sebastian McCoy, MD, on his way to Polaris’ newest base.  She’s a little too timid to be a revolutionary, at first, but she takes to it like a duck to water after a little bit of an adjustment period.
  
• Lessa never joins Mercury squad, she’s not cut out for life as a spy and she has no talent for hacking.  Instead, when she’s fifteen she joins Mars squad, the strike team, and starts taking point on their operations, throwing bolts of electricity rather than bullets.  She’s promoted to Mars Prime at nineteen, and she has a reputation for being the gentlest professional soldier anyone’s ever met.  
• There’s also a couple of stories about her blowing the power for whole city grids, or turning on the sprinklers in a building and using the water as a conductor to kill everyone on the floor.
• Under Lessa, Ursa Major’s Mars squad gets a new nickname.  Blitzkrieg.  It means lightning war.
• On the one hand, Polaris does a lot worse in this universe.  Having a technopath to network a continent-spanning rebellion is invaluable, and without such an advantage, they lose lives, they lose bases, more than once they almost lose everything.  There is no secure intranet linking their family of thousands, there is no safe way to smuggle those who don’t want to fight out of the country.  Fight or die is the unspoken option given to every new recruit, and those few who are desperate enough to attempt to leave the country on their own learn how true it is.  Polaris is harder, every base dependent on only itself, with no safe way to reach out for help, and its people are angrier, with an ever-growing ‘missing’ list of those who can neither be contacted nor confirmed dead.
• On the other, Polaris does a lot better in this universe, because when Margaret is nine, she discovers that she can make any computer do anything she tells it to, just by touching it.  When she’s twelve, and Lessa is still years from getting kicked out, Margaret starts funneling information from her father’s system onto a private hard drive so encrypted the NSA couldn’t crack it with their best men.  She does research, lots of research, and hunts down a boy at her school whose family is on one of the lists.  She tells him, warns him, and says, “Polaris.  Go to Polaris.  Take them this.”  The moment the hard drive is connected to a Polaris system, their database is flooded with more national secrets than they’ve been able to get in a decade, every block of code signed with a simple MAX.  Marshal North has to sit down, and she laughs and laughs until she’s breathless.
• Margaret is twenty-two and ferocious with being trapped like an animal in a cage when she’s caught up in a Polaris operation.  She gets taken hostage by a girl with long blonde hair and a grim look in her eye, one hand wrapped around her throat as the girl says, “Sorry, Miss Stone, but it is what it is.  Tell your bodyguards to drop their guns, or I’ll put so much electricity through you you’ll wish you’d just been struck by lightning.”
• Margaret bares her teeth and looks as wild as any of the rebels when she says, “If you take me with you, I can get you another load of my father’s data before we leave, and more that I’ve hidden around the city.  it’ll make the hard drive look like nothing.”
• The blonde girl is so startled she almost drops her hostage in a pile on the ground.  “How did you–”
• “I sent the first one.”
  
• “Max,” Lessa breathes, and gives a feral grin of her own.  “You’ve got a deal.”
  

speckeltail asked: okay, so, an au where your ocs all work shitty retail jobs

Oh dear Christ.  Okay, let’s see, I don’t make OC’s for fic as a rule, and my OC’s for my original writing all tend to be really aggressive people, this should be fun.  I’ll just pick five at random.

• Sam Lightworth, Horseman of Death and unwilling Antichrist and my fave: she’s the best salesperson in the house, no one is disputing this, she could sell light switches to the Amish and matchboxes in Hell so they’re not going to fire her, but she’s also on so much probation always.  A short list of highlights from the notes in Sam’s file:
  
• punched a customer in the nose for flicking water at her
• found a customer rifling through the shirts she’d just spent an hour folding and almost broke their fingers
• responded to a crying child by setting him on a shelf and telling him that if he wasn’t good she’d sell him (in her defense, it worked)
• threw a grown man into a wall so hard she knocked him out when he tried to grab her ass (the manager doesn’t know how she managed it and doesn’t WANT to know, okay, he deals with too much shit to ask how she sent someone flying without a finger laid on them)
• was found in store at opening with what looked suspiciously like a hellhound (there is a sign, okay, it’s very unambiguous, no pets allowed)

• Max, no last name, my spy-slash-technopath from this novel: she used to work on the floor but she’s shit at selling things and only slightly better at giving directions, so they shoved her in a glorified janitor’s closet with the security system and told her to keep it running.  She helps make sure there’s never any video evidence of Sam’s antics.

• Gwynion, erstwhile Prince of the Unseelie Court and ex-assassination victim, because we need a guy in here somewhere: he’s very polite, which has him one up on Sam, and very efficient, which has him one up on Max, but he’s also…look, the manager isn’t accusing anyone of anything, but no one ever found that one woman who tried to grope Gwynion, okay, the manager’s not saying she disappeared.  He’s just saying they never found her.  There’s a difference.

• Sephie, from this: honestly Sephie doesn’t deserve this, Sephie deserves better than this bullshit and these coworkers, she is a Normal Human trying to pay rent and she needs a drink.  Nonetheless, she gets along famously with everyone and doesn’t mind working the register since Sam isn’t trusted to do it and Gwynion seems prone to causing equipment fry-age.  Sephie is also gunning for the managerial position when their current boss inevitably caves, and stands to make a tidy sum in the pool given the newest hire.

• Angharad “Harry” Ainsel, from this (parts are noted ‘first,’ ‘second,’ ‘third’): the new hire.  The manager almost cried when she walked in, because no one who wanders around with that strange bone crown is going to be a good thing.  She’s almost as good as Sam at the sales end of things, but she’s also making people sign things that don’t look like receipts and has offered to exchange two return items for changeling children.  Also, the bike rack is for bikes, and the no pets allowed thing should cover the bike rack, as far as the manager knows, which means the warhorse is definitely contraindicated.

• Bonus sixth headcanon: the manager quits within three weeks of Harry’s hire (with the apparent intent to move to Bangkok or somewhere similarly distant), Harry and Sephie shake hands as soon as Sephie’s signed her new managerial contract, and the Huntsmaster leaves in the middle of her shift and doesn’t come back to work.  Sephie, when asked how she knows Harry and could she get Sam one of those nice daggers she carried, shrugs and says that her girlfriend has contacts.