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.

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.

Shattered Glass and Sandstorms

words-writ-in-starlight:

An AU with Rey as part of the First Order, based on this photoset by the immensely talented @greyjoyss.  In case you were curious, this is why I ask for short prompts, because this is SUPER LONG and got WILDLY OUT OF HAND.  Crossposted to my AO3 here.

She isn’t a Skywalker—or maybe she is.  She can’t remember, so does it matter?  She is herself.

Her mothers scream when she’s born.  Her human mother screams in effort and pain. The other screams in ecstasy, and somewhere in the galaxy the last Jedi’s flesh-and-blood hand shakes as the Force writhes with the birth of a new sun.  To the eyes of the minimally Force-sensitive nurse, the baby girl is wreathed in starlight, her wide and tearless eyes wandering over things unseen.

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Friendly reminder that I wrote this and I’m exceptionally smug about it, y’all.

Shattered Glass and Sandstorms

An AU with Rey as part of the First Order, based on this photoset by the immensely talented @greyjoyss.  In case you were curious, this is why I ask for short prompts, because this is SUPER LONG and got WILDLY OUT OF HAND.  Crossposted to my AO3 here.

She isn’t a Skywalker—or maybe she is.  She can’t remember, so does it matter?  She is herself.

Her mothers scream when she’s born.  Her human mother screams in effort and pain. The other screams in ecstasy, and somewhere in the galaxy the last Jedi’s flesh-and-blood hand shakes as the Force writhes with the birth of a new sun.  To the eyes of the minimally Force-sensitive nurse, the baby girl is wreathed in starlight, her wide and tearless eyes wandering over things unseen.

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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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hollandlolland asked: Prompt: Finn/Poe taking Rey to a green planet bc she loves that shit but they're not flora/fauna experts so when she starts trying weird stuff (running through the bush, trying to figure out what's edible, etc) they don't know what to do

Yes, absolutely, Rey on green planets is my new favorite thing.  Also, if you didn’t expect this to be pre-OT3, you should have.  Also, this is my first time writing these three, so be gentle with me.

“Oh, Force,” Rey breathed, turning on her heel, neck craned back and mouth open in delight.  The trees towered over the Falcon, the sunlight filtering green-gold through the leaves and dappling the ship and its passengers in faint shadows.  Poe watched her spin, her arms out and her head thrown back, and tried not to think too much.  “Look at them!  How do they get so big without falling over?” she asked, looking at Poe with wide, curious eyes.  

He grinned, hands stuffed in the pockets of his new jacket–he’d gotten his old one repaired while Finn was in a coma, and the swathe of red material replacing the lightsaber damage had made the ex-Trooper beam at him.  “Hey, I’m a flyboy, not a botanist.  I don’t pay attention to trees unless they’re in my way.”

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