@ask-coppertop: Oh my cogs hi!! Your mane is so pretty!!!

ask-winter-drop: Aren't you handsome...~ Welcome to tumblr!

Nony Pony: You're so adorable :)

Inuyasha: I... wait- W-what?!

(High-res transparent PNGs below the cut. I even included Nony Pony even though she's just a placeholder for anon.)

Been having brainrot over two things lately

So why not put them together?

Introducing...

The MHA x THSC AU!

So, yeah

I have a few things figured out already, so I'm gonna share what I have on each character

Henry:

Hero course

Charles:

Hero course

Hero name is 'Bold action man'

Ellie:

Hero course

Plant-type quirk (Not sure exactly)

Reginald:

Villain

His quirk is called lightning rod (I'll explain in depth in another post)

Also known as 'Coppertop'

RHM:

Villain

Quirk is called energy ball (I'll explain in another post)

King Of Darkness Arc Finale: VICTORY!!! EQUESTRIA IS SAVED!!! (MORE AFTER THE BREAK)

After AU King Sombra got his ass beaten and was forced to retreat, various citizens of Equestria cheered for the heroes who came to our rescue. Trampling on the scraps of metals on what used to be a formidable foe, they now waved their hooves in the air, chanting,"Glory to Equestria!" and "Victory!"

Stepping out of the purification chamber, Twilight looked outside, visibly confused.

"Erm... what just happened?! I feel like I have been asleep for a long long time!"

"Twi! We are saved by these heroes! Hip Hip Hurrah!!!!! Somby's butt got kicked!"

"Right... I... don't know how to thank you guys... You came to our aid when no pony does....but thank you. Equestria will remember this day."

With that, Twilight shook every hero & heroine's hoof/claws, giving medals to every creature, visibly very tired.

@ask-coppertop

@ask-gadzooks

@evilkingsombra

@ask-the-cosmic-duo

"BESTIE YOU CAME!" Aurora just ran up to Stella & gave her the most affectionate hug ever. Her eyes streaming with tears from gratitude.

END OF ARC.

((Many thanks for participating in this Arc! It's been fun! I'll probably return to regular asks/participate in a light hearted arc/take a break.))

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Ooh fun!

My current favorite five fics of mine are:

breakable heaven

Then the orchestra changes pace—a slow, elegant melody takes the place of the previous frenetic, lively tune—and Barriss's face lights up. "Oh! Oh, this one is Mirilian!"

Possessed by some reckless, wild entity, Ahsoka feels her mouth fall open without her permission. "Want to dance?" * Or, Ahsoka, Barriss, a ballroom, and an assassination plot at play. What could go wrong?

My first (and only) Swoon June fic and first attempt at writing romance! I had a lot of fun writing it and playing around with metaphors and such, even if it's in a bit of a nicher zone.

seeing is believing

"But that's impossible," Anakin says, pacing the room. Something about this has him on edge, too. Neither of them have said the word 'Mortis' out loud but. . . he keeps giving Ahsoka these strange glances. As if he's afraid she'll shatter at a moment's notice. "This system is deserted. It always has been."

Or, Ahsoka, Anakin, and Obi-wan happen across another mysterious distress call. As expected, nothing goes according to plan.

Based this one off of a really freaky dream I had! It was super fun to write and craft and I'm really fond of the ending.

shadowed

There is no Padme speaking right now. Only Senator Amidala, and the will of Naboo.

"I regret to inform you that the Republic will not be making any prisoner trade with the Separatists today." She meets his eyes head-on. "Good day, Count."

*

Shadow Warrior AU. Padme doesn't trade Anakin for Grievous; this changes things.

Really loving writing Padme in this fic, last scene of the latest chapter especially.

Master Krell

"Who has been chosen to oversee his training, if I may ask?"

"Volunteered, Master Krell has," Yoda answers, straightforward for once. "Met him, have you?"  

*

Or, the one in which a very undesirable Master gets ahold of Anakin first.

This is the one that got me to start writing a bunch of different multichapter fics instead of just sticking to oneshots + coppertop.

like the flowering thorns of Naboo

In another galaxy far, far away, Padmé Amidala is the Chosen One, destined to defeat the Sith and rid the galaxy of evil. Anakin is just another force-sensitive kid from the Outer Rim who slips through the cracks.

Many things are different. Some things can't help but stay the same. And sometimes the pull of destiny - and the dark side - is simply too strong to resist.

SAY IT WITH ME: SITH! PADME!

Kidding, kidding, I still haven't gotten past the prologue in this fic, but it lives in my mind rent free forever and always.

Maedhros and Húrin my two favorite victims of Morgoth for the character asks?

- @outofangband

Ayy hello @outofangband ! And well, yes 👀

Mae:

My otp for them: Fingon :3

My brotp for them: Finarfin. Ask me why. (YES I accidentally wrote Fingon before)

Any other ships: Mairon to an extent

Their best friend: Fingon and Maglor

My favorite nickname for them: Maemae, Coppertop, Tall dude, He-whos-named-handsome

My favorite AU of them: Where he becomes corrupt under Melkor's torment. I live for the angst.

My favorite outfit they wear: Casual wear (mostly his morning robes thingy)

Defining color: Shades of red, maybe a dash of Gold.

Would I date them: No!

First impression: Huh who which one is this

Current impression: Pretty cool dude, needs a break.

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

--

Húrin:

My otp for them: Morwen, ofcourse.

My brotp for them: Tuor, I guess

Any other ships: Nah

Their best friend: Ehhh, literally most people at this point. Turgon maybe? (I can't decide oop)

My favorite nickname for them: Him... Nicknames 😳 Grandpa maybe

My favorite AU of them: None so far. Maybe something where he actually gets to Gondolin?

My favorite outfit they wear: Hahahhahahah some tattered robes from his days of suffering :3

Defining color: Shades of Brown

Would I date them: NO

First impression: Seems scary

Current impression: Chill dude, wish he had some peace

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Thankyou so much for the ask! And I guess Melkor has a thing for imprisoning Gryffindors XD

36 and 58

Looks like these involve a lotta meet-cutes. Lmao. Ok, I scrapped the #36 “Established relationship,” because it didn’t fit with any of the other requests really. I’ve combined #58 with a request from @tarantula-teeth for #16, which gives us...

Space AU / Innocent Physical Contact

“God… fucking… dammit!” Ian cussed as he smashed his finger into the same button over and over and over again. He then moved to toggling the switch next to it on and off and back and forth fruitlessly. “Piece of shit… motherfucker!”

Somewhere over his shoulder, a mellifluous, sarcastic whistle sounded long and loud as it approached. “Problem officer?”

“Officer?” Ian asked incredulously before turning around in his chair. “I’m not an officer, I’m a pilot.”

The guy in front of him was short, with dark hair, but pale skin, and he was wearing a maintenance jumpsuit.

“My bad. This is my first gig on this particular spaceship. All you different crews have your own titles and semantics, but it’s none of my business really. Just tell me what you want me to call you.”

Ian’s brow furrowed. “Who are you and why are you talking to me right now?”

The guy pursed his lips and scratched at his eyebrow. “Think it’s pretty obvious that I’m a repair guy… from engineering?”

“I didn’t call for a repairman.”

“No, but your boss did,” the guy replied, thumb indicating an older gentleman across the deck.

Ian bent his head around and caught the captain’s eye, receiving a cheeky smirk and a knowing nod. Ian looked back at Mickey and rolled his eyes.

“Look…” he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“Mickey,” the maintenance guy answered.

“Mickey… I think I can handle this. I’m about to run some diagnostics, and in the meantime,” he glanced at his co-pilot to the right, “Russ here has perfectly good control of the ship.”

“Uh huh,” said Mickey with a condescending little smile. “Well, that’s not really gonna work for me, see… the captain is the captain, and he ordered my boss, the head engineer, to send someone to fix this for you. Guess that means he knew you couldn’t handle this sorta repair on your own. Anyway, you can make yourself scarce for a while, since you’re not actually flying anything.”

Ian’s mouth dropped open. He was usually treated with reverence aboard the ship. At the very least, people respected him. He was the fucking pilot, after all. They put their lives in his hands every day. Yeah, he was part of a team, but he was like the first in the frontline whenever shit went sideways. Maybe he wasn’t the captain, or the commander, but he still couldn’t help but silently think of the craft as his ship. And he wasn’t about to wander off on a long break and let this yahoo he didn’t even know have free reign of his gear board and equipment.

“If you think I’m going anywhere while you work on my station, you’re outta your fuckin’ mind, pal.”

Mickey chortled. “Pal? What’re you gonna call me next? Buddy? Champ?” He casually pushed past Ian and dropped his case to the floor. “You wanna hover around over me, be my guest, but keep your damn trap shut and let me do my job, alright Sparky?”

Ian tried his best not to fume, but he wasn’t entirely successful. Still, he managed to stay quiet as he watched Mickey arrange his tools and open the circuit board beneath the console. He was actually fascinated with the mechanical guts of the spacecraft, but he’d always been terrible at anything remotely mathematical, and couldn’t make it into engineering school no matter how hard he’d studied. When it came to ships, he could work it all, but he didn’t know exactly how it worked, and that was frustrating as hell at times like these. Knowing the theory wasn’t enough.

Mickey worked quietly for over an hour, never daring to say a word to Ian, despite his watchful presence. Occasionally, he would accidentally brush against Ian’s leg, and that sent him into a tailspin thinking about how long it’d been since he’d gotten any, followed by wondering why the hell he was thinking about sex just because some repair guy grazed him through his clothes, culminating in deep frustration that he had no prospects to speak of on this entire ship-full of 2,000 plus people.

If his horniness was making him long for this random dude that clearly didn’t like him at all, he was definitely in a bad way.

“I’m gonna need to solder this, and I didn’t bring my kit for that, so I’ll be back in like 15. Think you can handle it, coppertop?” Mickey said, breaking Ian’s reverie.

“My name’s Ian,” he responded tersely. “See you in 15.”

Mickey smiled at him then, and it didn’t even seem sarcastic. Ian didn’t know how to react, so he just blinked and turned away to grab his handheld computer. He spent the minutes waiting on Mickey answering messages from his family back on New Earth.

Once the soldering was about to be underway, Ian was eager to observe again, and Mickey tossed him a face mask without a word before he got started.

Another hour later, and everything was patched up and properly reassembled, the little buttons and switches working the way they were supposed to again. Ian still had a few hours left on shift, and Mickey hung back to watch as the control was shifted back to the main board, from the co-pilot’s station.

After a good ten minutes of smooth sailing, Ian switched to auto and stood up to reach out for the engineer’s hand. “Looking good. Thank you, Mickey.”

Mickey gave him an almost coquettish once over. “Same, Gallagher.”

“Oh, so you know who I am now?”

Mickey shrugged. “You’re the pilot. I knew who you were before I came down here.”

“Coulda fooled me,” said Ian, noticing that their hands were still clasped. He looked down at them, then back up into Mickey’s eyes. They were a sparkling, pretty shade of blue.

“Act like a dick, get treated like one,” Mickey replied.

Ian gasped and let his hand fall. “You were the one being a dick, not me.”

Mickey rubbed his nose and reached into his pocket, pulling out a genuine piece of paper and a pen. Ian hadn’t seen anyone use those in years.

He scribbled something down quickly and handed the paper to Ian.

“Block E, number 492,” Ian read aloud.

“That’s my cabin number, pilot boy. Maybe you wanna come over for a nightcap later.” His impeccably arched eyebrow left no room for misunderstanding.

Ian tittered breathily. “I think I just might.”

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Hi all,

Rainbow here. I'm still getting Intel but I have drawn up a simple map for everyone interested. Twilight is still under "repairs" (Was stoned by AU Sombra) and will be immobile for the time being. Currently, there are like countless of these crazy trinkets outside. Till then, my fate is in Celestia's hooves!

- Rainbow Dash

MAP:

@ask-gadzooks

@ask-coppertop

@ask-the-cosmic-duo

@evilkingsombra

new chapter of coppertop is out!

ao3

"The Clone Wars are over!" 

"For good."

* * * * *

The cheers are overwhelming. The Senate floor shakes with the strength of them, vibrating on its very foundations as Senators, Representatives, and aides shout and grin and laugh and cry. Palpatine, for his part, looks on from above, a cooly satisfied expression on his face. 

Anakin, for his part, grips the side of the Senate pod a little tighter instead of cheering. Or crying. This. . . this is everything he's hoped for. Isn't it?

He can't believe it. The war is over. The war is over.

He locks eyes with Padme, on the other side of the Senate. He can't tell how she's reacting.

"At long last," Palpatine continues, voice booming out through the building. The Senators quiet quickly. "Our years of hard work, of courage, of battles have come to fruition! Senators, representatives, citizens of the Republic, today we have reunited our great Galactic Republic. Today all of the people of our galaxy live under one flag. Today, everything is right with our galaxy."

"Of course," he continues, tone suddenly softer, "With this beautiful victory comes a new era, and all its necessary changes. It is with great humility and gratitude that I announce that from this moment forth, the office of the Chancellor relinquishes all emergency powers given during wartime. There is no need for them any longer. We are in an era of peace, prosperity, and. . . democracy."

He pauses and leans forward. "Let today be known as the first day of Galactic Reunification." The cheers, if possible, have returned even louder than before. "And may our children's children still celebrate it for years to come."

* * * * *

This time, it's Padme excusing herself from Bail and running at him full force. 

"Anakin," she says breathlessly, wrapping her arms around him and bringing him into a kiss. They pull apart, and words seem to fail her. They fail him, too.

They walk back to her apartment in silence, Padme smiling all the way with her arm in his. 

"It's over," she says finally, once they come to a stop in front of the door. "The war. . . the war is over."

"I can't believe it." he says honestly. Numbly. What does his life even look like without a war? Without constant deployments, a rapidly shrinking battalion, a damn near weekly electrocution session?

Huh. Wait. Do Jedi in peacetime. . . even have deadly encounters on the daily? What do they even do? Sit in the Temple? Negotiate trade deals? He tries to imagine it and finds that he can't. What does a Jedi's life look like if they're not fighting for it? What does the galaxy look like if it's not rapidly falling apart?

Padme looks up at him in confusion and he realizes he's frowning. "You're acting so strange," she says. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"It was—it is what I wanted." he rushes to say. "I'm just—surprised. That's all. It's all happening so fast."

"Should have happened faster if you ask me." she grumbles. "It's about damn time." 

He laughs as they enter, taking care not to hit his head on the doorframe. If he squints, he imagines he can see a difference between the apartment now that it's peacetime versus before.  A little brighter, he'd like to think. Cleaner. Happier. "It still feels too good to be true."

Padme rolls her eyes at him in a rare display of playfulness. "My husband, ever the pessimist." she says, ignoring Anakin's snort of protest. "It's been less than a day of peace, Anakin. We've been fighting the war for three years. Of course it feels strange."

"So," she continues pulling him towards the couch, where they collapse in a giddy heap, "how long do I have you for, this time?"

When do you need to rush back to the Temple through a side door, is what she's really asking, and he's already cataloguing—Ahsoka's not back from Mandalore, yet, and Obi-wan should be in his quarters, resting, if he knows what's good for him, but this—this is huge. The war is officially, finally, over for good. Maybe he should be at the Temple for this. Will the Council need him? Sure, his position on the Council is a joke at best and a political tug-of-war at worst, but maybe they'll need a report of the Chancellor's actions. 

He dismisses the thought with a sharp huff. If they want to know what the Chancellor said, they can just watch the broadcast from the official channels, like everyone else. No need to bring treason into it. 

The Council. . . the war is over. The war is over. Which means. . . his glance lands on Padme's hands, resting gently on her abdomen. 

"Maybe I should just get it over with today," he says, realisation dawning on him slowly.

"What?"

Anakin turns to look her in the eyes. "Leave the Order." He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. "The war is over. I can just—just go now. I'll tell the Council about us, turn in my saber, and then we can . . . I can just bring my stuff over." He doesn't even have all that much to carry—just a trinket or two, spare clothes, he doesn't even need the droid parts—He's giddy, all of a sudden. They've been talking about this, daydreaming about this, for years, and now the day is here and it's so much simpler than he could have ever imagined—Padme's due any day now— "We'll get you set up with a medcenter, and then we can go to Naboo, just like you wanted, and—"

"Anakin," Padme says, brow furrowed, "Anakin, slow down."

He stops. She doesn't sound nearly as excited at the prospect as he is. 

"You want to," she blinks rapidly, "leave the Jedi? Obi-wan? Ahsoka? Just like that?"

She sounds surprised. Why does she sound so surprised?

"You're due any day now. I don't want to leave them, of course I don't, but—we're going to be parents, Padme. A family. I've made my choice."

He half laughs. "It's not like we can keep it secret for much longer."

Padme bites her lip and looks down. "Anakin, you killed Dooku. You're half the reason this war is over. I hardly think they'll just—throw you away. Like you're nothing."

Anakin flinches at that. It's not like that, he wants to say. We knew what we were doing. We knew we were breaking the rules. "The rules—" he starts to speak.

"—are outdated." Padme cuts him off. "And we both know it."

"That doesn't mean they'll just throw them away for one person." In truth, he's not so sure how he feels about the Code and its rules. He's always felt. . . conflicted, for lack of a better word. But he's at peace with his decision to leave, to devote himself to Padme and their new family. Or. Well. He was. Now Padme's gone and dug up all his old insecurities again. 

"Fine." Padme finally says, albeit unhappily. "Fine, you go and tell them, and if they decide to kick you out, that's their prerogative, I suppose. But for goodness sakes', stop acting as if you want to get kicked out! You're a fine Jedi, Anakin. You can be both, you know. You don't need to—you don't need to martyr yourself for my sake."

"I'm not—that's not—" He cuts himself off, frustrated. "Fine."

"Good." She settles backwards, leaning against him again. Then— "Oh!" Padme says, hand flying to her abdomen. She turns, grinning, and grabs Anakin's hand—the flesh hand, that is—to press it against her belly. "Did you feel that? He kicked!"

"She," he banters back absentmindedly. Leia, he remembers them discussing a few days ago. Luke if it's a boy, Leia if it's a girl. He closes his eyes to try and sense the baby's presence, feeling a slight lurch under his palm.

It's. . . strange. Reaching for the force is strange. Like pushing aside a heavy curtain. He strains for a few seconds before finally—there. The presences are distant, far more distant than they should be, and he has a momentary lurch of panic but they're there, light and joyful and alive in a way—

Wait.

Presences?

"Padme," he says numbly, reaching again and—Yes. He's right. "There are two."

Padme pales rapidly. "What?"

"I—twins. There are two."

She gapes at him, blinking rapidly, then glances down at herself then back up again. "The med droid—oh, force, when I told it to keep it a surprise I didn't mean the number of babies!"

"We'll manage," he says, pushing past the shock. Two—two babies. Will they have Padme's eyes or his? Blond hair or dark? And two—sithspit, this makes the force-sensitivity question even more complicated than it already was. They'll have to adjust the nursery, for sure.

"I didn't—I didn't know." she says with a slightly bitter edge. "I should have known."

"Padme, you're the strongest person I know." Anakin says firmly. "And this is on the med droid, not you." 

"Really," she says wryly, changing tone. "Even Obi-wan? Yoda? Ahsoka? Your men?"

 "The strongest," he promises, biting back his grin. 

Padme takes a breath. "If it's two boys, I'd like the other after my father. But if it's two girls. . . what do you think of naming her Shmi?"

Oh.

"That's—wonderful." He blinks back sudden tears. "Thank you."

Padme pulls him into another kiss. Lighter, this time.

"You should probably go now." she says softly.

"Yeah," he says, swiping at his eyes with the palms of his hand. "Yeah, I will. Love you."

He hears her murmur it back as he turns to leave.

* * * * *

The Council Chamber is silent.

He'd waited for the end of the meeting to make his confession—a bit cowardly, he knows, but he's already rocked the boat enough as is. The meeting itself had been shorter than usual, with an air of relief permeating the room. They'd watched the broadcast from one of Master Ti's holos, once, twice, before Master Windu confirmed what they already knew—yes, it was completely genuine. Then, plans to demilitarise. Then—

He'd spoken up.

Now there's silence.

His comm beeps. He startles then determinedly ignores it, waiting for a reaction.

"To be completely honest," Obi-wan speaks first. "I can't exactly say I'm surprised." He looks around, making eye contact with the others. "Well, surely I can't be the only one."

To Anakin's surprise, there are a few light giggles. Master Ti is even smiling.

"Subtle, you have not been." Yoda agrees. "Subtle the Senator has not been, either."

"Like a pair of star speckled Alderaanian love wrens," Shaak Ti agrees.

He gapes.

To be fair, it was probably easy enough to guess that he'd harbored feelings for Padme—and maybe even that she felt the same for him. But for force's sake, they'd expected the marriage too? The children?

That's a bit. . . much. 

His comm beeps again.

"Should you wish to leave the Jedi Order," Mace says, looking as amused as the rest of them, "that is, of course, your decision. But—" He looks around and seems to find the agreement he's looking for. "I believe this discussion can be tabled for now. The war is over, after all. You have fulfilled the prophecy."

 Okay, this is definitely not what he was expecting. What had happened to "You will be expelled from the Jedi Order, Anakin,"? "Attachments are forbidden,"?

He's relieved. Incredibly relieved. But also. . . 

Unsatisfied.

And he remembers—he hasn't fulfilled the prophecy, actually. There's a Sith—a dark side user—in the Senate, leading the Senate, and he's just let him be. He hasn't even told the Council. And sure, nothing bad seems to have come of it—it's Chancellor Palpatine for force's sake, the man could hardly hurt a fly—but still.

He closes his eyes and tries to find some equilibrium.

But—

Something in the force is recoiling, echoing, empty and vacant and cold.

He frowns.

"Master Windu, are you. . . feeling alright?"

Master Windu glances up in confusion. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"The force feels. . . strange. Around you." He struggles to find more words to explain it and finds that he can't. It's just. . . an ache. A devastating ache. With a strange twist to it.

Master Windu frowns at him. "I don't feel it." He pauses. "Are you absolutely certain this. . . feeling of yours is centered around me?"

He closes his eyes. No, he realizes, it's not just Mace. This strange thread of—of wrongness echoes throughout the Chamber, curling around various Council members with an icy chill.

Reaching for the babies' force presence had also been strange, Anakin remembers, trying and failing to squash his panic. They'd felt—so far away. Or maybe it was he himself that felt removed. This is the second time that reaching for the force has felt off—what's happening to him? What the hell is going on?

His comm beeps yet again.

"Answer that, you may, young Skywalker." Master Yoda says from his seat. A few others hum in affirmation.

He switches it on.

"Anakin," comes Padme's panicked voice, strange and staticky through the receiver.

"Anakin, I think the babies are coming."

new chapter of coppertop!

ao3

“Rise, Lord Vader.”

"Anakin, I think the babies are coming."

*

Padme's voice trails off into static and it hits him suddenly that the Council Chamber is quieter than he's ever heard it in his life. Not a single sound pierces the air other than feedback from the comm, giving the room an eerie atmosphere. It seems like every last Jedi in the room has gone utterly still—down to Master Yoda himself. 

They'd seemed amicable before but now—

Is this the moment he gets expelled? Tossed to the curb?

No, that's ridiculous. If they were going to do that, they would have done it as soon as the confessions left his lips.

The room chills and Padme's words finally sink in.

Oh, force.

Oh, force.

She's—she's giving birth. He's going to be a father. They're going to have children.

He's panicking. 

He's definitely, absolutely, thoroughly panicking. 

Sure, the dreams have stopped, but this feels—so sudden. Twins. They're about to have twins. Force, he's about to be a father.

Still staring shell shocked at the rest of the Council, he brings the comm up to his mouth. "Are you still at the apartment?"

"Yes," Padme says, "yes, just—" She cuts herself off with a pained groan. "Anakin—"

"Shh," he says. It feels like everyone's eyes are on him. Yoda's gaze is utterly unreadable. "It's fine. It'll be fine. I'll be there soon."

He switches the comm off. "Uh," he starts awkwardly. This is—this is a lot. Oh, force, Padme's giving birth, right now. 

And they've just announced it to the Council in the most ridiculous, conspicuous way possible.

It's almost funny.

No, scratch that, it is funny. He can feel a hysterical laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat. If he'd told himself so much as a week ago that he'd announce Padme's pregnancy and the subsequent birth of his children to the entire Council assembled in the Council room—

He'd probably lose it then and there, to be honest. But the tooka cat's out of the bag, now. Nothing to do for it. 

It's Obi-wan who finally breaks the silence. "It's alright," he says evenly. "Go."

Anakin goes.

*

He makes it to Padme's apartment in record time; if traffic patrol had spotted him, he likely would have been fined enough to pay for the whole planet's electricity bill. When he gets there, it's Threepio who opens the door, Padme close behind him with her arms wrapped protectively over her stomach. 

"That was fast," she teases, then grimaces as another contraction hits. 

"Where are your handmaidens?" he asks in shock. Surely they can't have all gone home for the day by now—is she really trying to do this alone—

Padme's lips part and she looks up at him in shock. "Obviously not here."

"Okay," he says, trying to shove down the panic. The dreams have stopped, but still, what if— "We. . . need to get to a medcenter, don't we."

"Ideally," Padme says with a deadpan stare. The effect is ruined when she cuts herself off with another groan.

It suddenly occurs to him that he's quite literally never been to any medcenter on Coruscant before—or any other planet, for that matter. It's always been the Temple healers for him, or his mother's hasty remedies before that, or messy battlefield medicine with Kix by his side. 

"Do you know where we can—no, nevermind." As far as he knows, Padme's injuries have always similarly been either battlefield contained or treated quietly, off planet, or by her trained handmaidens. They don't have time for a back and forth; the Temple will be quickest. Plus the children will be—well, likely very force sensitive. Who knows how that might affect it all?

"I'm taking you to the Temple," he says, taking her hands in his and kissing her on the forehead. He would have never suggested this a week ago, or even a day ago for that matter. How quickly things had changed. "The healers there—they're good. Really good. They know what they're doing."

"Works for me," Padme bites out but it sounds more like a Shut up and let's go, hurry up than anything, which—fair.

"Master Ani," Threepio frets as he helps her to a significantly safer and more passenger friendly speeder model than the one he'd used to get here. Probably Captain Typho's doing, if he's being honest with himself. "Master Ani, are you just leaving me behind? Don't you know I'm also quite worried for Mistress Padme—"

"We'll be back soon, Threepio," he shouts as they take off, Padme grumbling beside him. "Just—watch the apartment for us, yeah?"

He doesn't bother to listen to the rest of the droid's response. He means well, truly, but stars above, Anakin should have made his personality a bit less annoying.

When they finally arrive at the Temple doorsteps, Padme's clutching his arm so tightly he's certain there are going to be bruises tomorrow. Maybe he should have given her the mechanical hand to grip but—nevermind, with this grip she might have ended up damaging the wiring. He leads them through a less conspicuous back entrance, closer to the Healing Halls—there may be less Temple guards out, at this time of day, but he really doesn't want to deal with the questions right now. 

"Master Che," he says once they enter the Halls, and he must have startled the woman because she jumps straight out of her chair before straightening up— "I, uh—we have a bit of an emergency."

She looks over the two of them and her eyes widen, landing on Padme's hunched figure.

"I can see that," she mutters, striding over and taking Padme by the hand. "Come with me, Senator. We have a room open just a few steps to the right. You'll be perfectly comfortable."

"I—alright. Thank you," Padme says, giving Anakin an unreadable glance as she's led away. "But you're sure . . . ?"

"We may not have many Jedi with your. . . situation, Senator, but our Healers do have all of the basic training," Vokara says evenly. Then to Anakin, "You, wait. We'll call you in when the time comes."

"Wait, hang on—"

The door swishes shut behind them.

"Couldn't you just have. . . " He cuts himself off with a sigh. Vokara Che knows what she's doing. How many times has she saved Obi-wan's life, Ahsoka's, his own? Padme will be fine. 

With nothing left to do, Anakin slumps into one of the chairs to wait. 

*

And wait.

*

And wait.

*

And wait.

*

He's just about to get up and slam open those force damned doors himself when he hears the footsteps. Vokara Che opens the door and steps forward, face neutral.

"Skywalker," she says, eyes flicking over to where he's slumped. Her face softens. "Come with me."

"Well?"

"Congratulations," she says dryly, leading them to the room and through the door. "You're a father now."

On the other side of the door, Padme waits, looking thoroughly exhausted but grinning ear to ear. She has the babies in her arms, cooing at them intermittently as they blink up at her. At the sound of the door, her head snaps up.

"Ani," she breathes, "Come meet Luke and Leia."

NEW COPPERTOP CHAPTER IS OUT BABEY

“Darth Maul is dead.”

*****

Silence follows Ahsoka’s proclamation, before—

“ Dead?” Anakin isn’t sure who said it first—it might have been him, Obi-wan, Master Windu, or maybe even Shaak Ti that beat them to the punch.

And what a punch it was. Ahsoka, at seventeen years old, had managed to kill Maul? He has utmost faith in his padaw—former padawan, of course, but this is. . . a lot. To do what Obi-wan had never been able to do, what Adi Gallia died trying to do—he’s always been impressed by Ahsoka’s skill but this is another level entirely.

“To clarify, young Tano,” Shaak Ti says with a dignified air, “you engaged Maul in a duel, and were able to dispatch and subsequently kill him during said duel?”

“Well, Rex fired the shot,” Ahsoka says lightly, “but yes, I was able to overpower him and we managed to defeat him for good.”

“In all fairness,” she continues, “I got lucky. Maul was. . . distracted, and overconfident, and I managed to get the upper hand over him that way.”

“Still, that is a most impressive feat, lil ‘Soka,” Plo Koon rumbles from his position by the window. “This Council commends you.”

Ahsoka’s face smooths back over into a mask of neutrality. “Thank you,” she says, “Masters.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182483/chapters/69753594

Hey, BEFORE THE BEGINNING sounds interesting :)

BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project

I’ll talk a bit about coppertop! Coppertop basically starts at the exact point where the canon divergence begins, but a couple things that happened before the fic that I didn’t mention:

- Palpatine decided that Anakin was. . . a risky investment, and concocted a backup plan to ensure that his plans would go through. Said plan is currently in use.

- Anakin and Padme decided on the names “Luke” or “Leia” for their child

thank you for the ask! :D

(ask game here)

😊 🌹

:D

"It was—it is what I wanted." he rushes to say. "I'm just—surprised. That's all. It's all happening so fast."

(ask game here)

🌹 please? :D

ofc and thanks for the ask!!

"Should have happened faster if you ask me." she grumbles. "It's about damn time." 

(ask game here)

hi artii !! what about first or next, or maybe both if you want to 👀

hi and ty for the ask!! :D

FIRST — the first two sentences of my current project:

here are the first two sentences of my next chapter of coppertop, a ROTS fix it....in a manner of speaking:

The cheers are overwhelming and seem to never end. The Senate floor shakes with the strength of them, vibrating on its very foundations as Senators, Representatives, and aides shout and grin and laugh and cry.

NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.

another sentence from coppertop!

"I didn't—I didn't know." she says with a slightly bitter edge. "I should have known."

(ask game here!)

hi arti!!! NEXT for the ask game

ty for the ask!! :D

NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.

also from coppertop:

"You should probably go now." she says softly.

(ask game here)