My dude, I have an entire PLUNNIE about transObi-Wan.
Obi-Wan was
born biologically female and decided while still in the creche, early in life,
that he had no business being a girl and being a boy was far more to his
tastes. The Jedi see enough species and differing genders that they were accommodating
to this desire: hormone treatments, clothing, full gender identity change—the only
thing they didn’t perform was the surgery Obi-Wan wanted, because it’s safer if
you’re fully grown before going under the knife. Obi-Wan was entirely fine with
that. His breasts are behaving themselves and remaining A-cups, thank you, and
he has an implant that means he isn’t inconveniently bleeding on an
inconvenient schedule.That is,
Obi-Wan is fine with things right up until Qui-Gon gets himself killed and
saddles Obi-Wan with a Padawan. Now he doesn’t have time to go through the surgery and the recovery period, he has a
wild Anakin Skywalker on his hands.There is no
avoiding telling Anakin, as they live in close quarters, but bitty Anakin just
blinks it off, shrugs, and wants to know why that matters. He was raised on the
Outer Rim in a port. This is not a new thing and is entirely cool, can we go
see Real Grass now? Real green grass is way more interesting than gender stuff.Obi-Wan
shrugs, mutters under his breath, and just deals with it, because he promised
Qui-Gon a Knighted Anakin Skywalker. He’ll complete that task and then get the surgery, because he’d
like to be able to look at himself naked in the mirror and recognize the person
looking back at him.But of
course, the universe is an asshole, and galactic civil WAR breaks out. Anakin
is Knighted, but they’re busy. He does not have time to recover from a surgery.
He doesn’t even have time to recover from the wounds he is receiving. Obi-Wan begins to wonder if the Republic supply
depots are spiking their food with stimulants just to keep them all upright.The clones
are also totally fine with the
transgender thing. Obi-Wan discovers while speaking with Rex (in bed, because
that’s really the only time they have for anything resembling a conversation
not based on the war) that there are female
clones in the ranks, quietly living and doing their jobs as men because the
Kaminoans promised the Republic an army of Fett clones, so the girl deviations
had to conform.This does
not please Obi-Wan. Or Anakin. or Plo Koon. Or any of the few remaining Jedi
who do not have their entire heads up their asses, spelunking through their own
intestines.The female
clones get to grow their hair, if they want, and be referred to as their
preferred gender. Several of the male clones jump ship to be women; some of
them give no fucks; some of the women remain men; some of them really don’t
want to have to deal with gender anything,
can we just go blow shit up now??Dooku dies.
Obi-Wan really doesn’t give a fuck that Anakin executed Dooku after the battle.
It’s a bit vicious, but not only has the Republic already declared in a Senate
session to execute Dooku as a traitor (which is…questionable) but Dooku has
tried to kill Obi-Wan so often that he rather enjoys the idea that Dooku won’t
ever try to kill him again. Either way, if they take down Grievous, then those
are the major military players. The war might be ending.Obi-Wan
tries breaking his leg by kicking Grievous. Not his best moment, but he still
wins. They’re that much closer. He can feel
it.Too bad he
was feeling the wrong thing. The Purges happen. Cody tries to kill him. The 501st
marches on the Temple and executes every living being inside.Mustafar.
Anakin. Anakin who knelt before the Emperor and became Vader. Anakin tried to
kill Padme, and then does his best to kill Obi-Wan until Anakin proves he’s fucking nuts by taking that
leap from a lower position.Obi-Wan has
no idea what is going on, or why his belly aches like Grievous kicked him (no,
he did not), or why Anakin suddenly went entirely mad.He does not
have long to contemplate it. Right after he retrieves Padme and gets C-3PO to
pilot them off this horror-rock, he collapses.R2-D2 takes
some time away from freaking out about Anakin losing his mind to mutter about
having two hapless idiots on his
hands. C-3PO can only carry one idiot at a time!Padme does not die. Fuck that Losing
the Will to Live shit. Padme was Momma Bear incapsulated, taking on the entire
Republic, before she had kids. After? Man, she would fight the universe to see her kids safe.Everything
at Polis Massa is great, except for the fact that Padme is giving birth to
twins (!??!) and a medic is telling Obi-Wan that he’s pregnant. (!!!!?!???)Bail is kind
enough to help clean him up after Obi-Wan vomits in the ’fresher for about an
hour and a half. Then he asks who the baby’s father is.Obi-Wan
pauses, thinking that Rex adores kids and so does Cody, and Cody will just
never stop teasing him over this—He decides
he’s just going to keep dry-heaving for a while. It’s kinder than thinking
about any of them.Then he goes
and tears a medic a new one because he has an implant, this can’t happen.The medic
asks Obi-Wan when was the last time he had the implant swapped out. They only
last so long before their effectiveness at preventing this sort of thing begins
to deteriorate.Polis Massa’s
walls echo with the shout of “FUCK!”Padme has
twins. Luke and Leia. She’s feeding the baby girl when she asks Obi-Wan if he’s
going to abort the baby.Obi-Wan
stares at her, because it hadn’t even occurred to him to do so. Most of the
known Force sensitives in the galaxy were just wiped out. He can’t bear the
thought of helping the Emperor succeed.Fuck. Fuck,
this is not fair. Why can’t he put this fetus in an incubator to gestate like
at least five different sentient species he knows of just off the top of his
head? WHY?Fine. FINE!
Obi-Wan is going to have a child while they’re on the run from the Empire, and
then he is going to have that fucking surgery or he will chew his way through duracrete.Obi-Wan asks
Padme what it’s like to be pregnant. Padme looks at him, blinks a few times,
and then grimaces.Duracrete
and durasteel, then.Obi-Wan and Padme decide to hide from Vader together. Bail does
not get one of the twins. Padme listens to Yoda’s reasons, tells him he’s full
of shit, and tells Bail that there are so many war orphans to choose from,
Breha could raise an entire horde if she likes.Bail looks
entirely too pleased by this idea. She almost feels sorry for his older
sisters, who have been nattering on for Bail and Breha to have children for
years.Padme is the
one to suggest that they go to Tatooine. She can’t go home to Naboo, but at
least Tatooine has Anakin’s family. That is her brother-in-law and
father-in-law and—according to the last message she received, she now has a
sister-in-law in Beru Whitesun Lars as well.Yoda
actually agrees that hiding on Tatooine is a fabulous idea; off you go, shoo,
shoo.Obi-Wan did
not need that education in what happened on Tatooine with the Tusken Raiders.
He was heartbroken enough. This is almost worse.Also, he
really was not expecting his father to have quit the Mid-Rim, moved to
Tatooine, and married Anakin’s mother. He is also entirely freaked out about
endangering these people—these near strangers,
no matter their blood—when Padme assures him that Anakin swore an actual blood
oath that he was never setting foot on Tatooine again. They both doubt that
Vader will suddenly forget that sort of vow just to go trolling for victims.Owen is not okay with Obi-Wan being his brother
instead of his sister, especially with Obi-Wan pregnant but still saying he’s a
man. Obi-Wan tells him to sod off and grow up. Beru laughs when Owen turns
bright red and stomps out of the room.Padme and
Cliegg assure Obi-Wan that yes, he is handling siblinghood correctly.They find a
nice, remote farmstead that is larger than Obi-Wan’s quarters in the Temple.
Which is…kind of pathetic, actually. Cliegg and Owen (after Beru threatens her
husband with castration) help to build additional rooms onto the place so that
they have bedrooms for each of them. Obi-Wan and Padme might tell people that
they’re spouses, but Obi-Wan does not want to be anything except Padme’s
friend. Padme is struggling to grieve while also being bright and happy for
twin babies who are far too sensitive for their own good. Obi-Wan is trying to
figure out how to anchor himself back to existence.The last
room to be built is a nursery for the twins. Obi-Wan stares often at that third
cradle, waiting for a new baby, and wonders what in the entire fuck happened to
his life. He can’t grow a beard right now to save his life because his estrogen
levels are overcompensating after years of being suppressed, his breasts are
larger (FUCK), and he is starting to waddle like the pregnant man he is.Thank the
Force that Beru loves children and all but moves in with them to babysit as
often as possible. They might have lost their minds that first year without
her.On the day
Obi-Wan’s daughter is born, he finally sees Qui-Gon’s ghost for the first time.Unfortunately
for the asshole who up and died on him, it’s during labor. Obi-Wan throws
everything within reach at the ghost, because HOW DARE HE and THIS IS YOUR IDEA
OF TIMING? while Padme holds his hand and tries not to giggle as Obi-Wan
apparently destresses by yelling at a figment of his imagination.Obi-Wan
names his little girl Anna. Ani for short.After nearly
a year of holding tight to her grief, Padme finally breaks down and sobs.EXCUSE ME I WAS USING THOSE FEELS!!!! And holy CARP I desperately hope someone adopts this because AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH SO! MANY! FEELS! AND! AWESOMENESS!
Tag: fanfic
Trick or treat Harry Potter :) (maybe drarry?)
Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, three times usually means someone’s trying to kill him.
“What are you doing?”
Draco turns toward the sounds of his voice and scowls. “Potter, I would have thought this level of stalking to be beneath you.”
“I’m not stalking you! You’re stalking me, if anything, because this isn’t even your world.” Draco doesn’t so much a flinch, and Harry’s shoulders slump. “Where did you even get that anyway?”
“I stole it,” he says, and Harry’s barely had the time to get outraged when he rolls his eyes, “I bought it, obviously. With money. You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” he answers, and then, “How do you even know how to ride that thing?”
Draco shifts his weight, circling Harry on his skateboard, as comfortable as if he’d been walking. “Please, like it’s hard. You could probably even do it.” He’s dressed like a muggle again, ridiculously tight jeans and trainers and a dark green t shirt that Harry’s pretty sure could stand to be a size or two larger. The sleeves cut into his biceps in a way that can’t be necessary. “Want to try?”
Harry had been so busy staring at Draco he hadn’t noticed when he got close. “What?
“I’m headed to the skate park,” he says, “It will be a lot easier for you to continue following me if you can manage to not fall off a skateboard.”
“I’m not following you,” he says, then immediately follows it up with, “Yeah, sure, okay.”
It seems like this summer is getting away from him, maybe.
Reblog if you think fanfiction is a legitimate form of creative writing.
this gets funnier every year
The year is 2042. Your daughter is awkwardly silent as she eats her dinner. “Something wrong sweetie?” She sighs and puts down her fork. “I was digging really deep in AO3 last night…Why didn’t you finish that coffee shop au?” It happened. Your past has come back to haunt you. Nay, it never truly left.
U CANNOT OUTRUN UR CRIME
OKAY BUT WAIT. This has happened to me. Recently. Because I am old and I have things out there from previous fandoms with previous pseuds and one day my teenager begins a rant at me about people never finishing any WIPs on the pit of voles (which he does not call the pit of voles because he has No Knowledge of such a thing but yet he still reads on which I didn’t think anyone did any longer) and he points out an example to me of something I WROTE AND LEFT WIPing for ages and he has NO IDEA #1 that his mom wrote this and #2 How much it still haunts me to this day that it will. sit. there. for. eternity. because I am too lazy to pull it down.
oh my god
#why didn’t you finish cleaning your room?#IDK MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU FINISH THE RON/DRACO MERMAID AU?
( @mrv3000 )
Reblogging for the last comment.
You know what I don’t get? When fanfic authors apologize for long chapters. It’s like? You gave me bonus content, for free, and you’re sorry about it? Bruh. I have already named my firstborn after you. Dude.
You know what else I don’t get? When they apologize for short updates. It’s like: look at these new words I gave you! Sorry I didn’t give you even more free words. Bro, that’s at least two words that I did not have yesterday. For free. Dude. Thank you.
And another thing: when people drop out of nowhere with a surprise update and then apologize for it taking a while. Like, dude, I wasn’t expecting anything, and you gave me words. I thought this fic was abandoned, but wait: there’s more. You just popped in and reminded me that this is a Good Fic that I should probably reread. You made my goshdarn day.
Basically fanfic writers are under no obligation to publish anything so when they do update it’s always a net positive because the story is longer now, and I have something to read, so thank you so much to everyone who writes fic at whatever pace or quantity they want.
this gets funnier every year
The year is 2042. Your daughter is awkwardly silent as she eats her dinner. “Something wrong sweetie?” She sighs and puts down her fork. “I was digging really deep in AO3 last night…Why didn’t you finish that coffee shop au?” It happened. Your past has come back to haunt you. Nay, it never truly left.
U CANNOT OUTRUN UR CRIME
OKAY BUT WAIT. This has happened to me. Recently. Because I am old and I have things out there from previous fandoms with previous pseuds and one day my teenager begins a rant at me about people never finishing any WIPs on the pit of voles (which he does not call the pit of voles because he has No Knowledge of such a thing but yet he still reads on which I didn’t think anyone did any longer) and he points out an example to me of something I WROTE AND LEFT WIPing for ages and he has NO IDEA #1 that his mom wrote this and #2 How much it still haunts me to this day that it will. sit. there. for. eternity. because I am too lazy to pull it down.
oh my god
#why didn’t you finish cleaning your room?#IDK MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU FINISH THE RON/DRACO MERMAID AU?
( @mrv3000 )
there’s going to be a difference sometimes between the stories that you find masterfully crafted and the stories that mean a lot to you personally and those two things don’t have to overlap completely or even at all to make that story worthwhile
and that’s a good thing to remember as a reader/viewer/etc but also as a writer because even if whatever you ultimately write is full of mistakes, someone out there is gonna take it so to heart that it fundamentally changes them as a person. and that is. Huge.
Like! I made a list of the top ten stories that have influenced me as a human being and only 2 or maybe 3 of them are things I would hold up as examples of narrative mastery. But I cannot imagine who I would be without the other 7!!
Please write your story and share it with the world! Someday someone will not be able to imagine a world without your story in it and they’ll be so grateful you brought that wonderful, meaningful thing into their life
Also while I’m on a roll, a story doesn’t have to have some deep hidden meaning or philosophical theme for it to be meaningful. Sometimes a story is meaningful to someone because it was fun and made them happy at a time when they really, really needed that. Or because it was an incredibly intriguing world that inspired them to dream. Maybe they’re another writer, and they see in that thing you wrote the exact kind of story they want to tell someday.
There are many ways to be meaningful
This might be the best meme I’ve seen all day
My dash has, in the past two years, become increasingly invested in this idea that fic comments are the fan creator’s “currency,” the means by which fan creators are “paid,” and therefore, it logically follows, a thing fan creators are owed.
I’m not a huge fan of this.
Do I like receiving comments? Yes. God yes. Love it. Enter into a black funk if I don’t get at least 25 within the first week of posting, at least 15 within the first day, at least 5 in the first hour, and at least one right away right in the very first second. I refresh obsessesively in those first seconds. I want all the attention on me and my work. I feel like I need it.
But it is not owed to me. Not the way my job owes me payment for my labor. Not the way I earn currency. I’m not contracting with fanfic readers for comments. I’m posting something and letting the internet have at it, which is a different thing entirely.
I think sometimes about how comments-as-currency interact with BNF culture. If you’re taking in the idea “this is a fic by a very important person whose opinion on the canon is sacrosanct and special” and also “by reading this free internet story, you now owe it to the creator to make them feel good about it and themselves,” that’s a particular magic elixir. And I guess a part of me is still scarred from the Cassie Clare days, and really does not agree with assigning special primacy to fandom creators because of the ways that can go drastically wrong.
Though, actually, never mind the Cassie Clare days. In the here and now, there are fic authors who feel they should get special praise from fellow fans for “originating” specific ship fandoms (why, because you showed up first?). In the here and now, there are BNFs with hundreds of bookmarks and thousands of comments who routinely threaten to flounce because the attention they get is just not enough for them.
the longer I am in fandom, the less I care for that shit. I think fandom is often made worse when we treat it like a transaction made for social approval, when we normalize this idea that participation in fandom is by its nature a contract by which you can demand the reactive energy of others.
I think a lot about two times I didn’t “comment.” One is Terry Pratchett. I love Terry Pratchett. Ever since I picked up a copy of Mort in Heathrow airport at age 12, I told myself, every year, that I would write him a letter telling him how funny he was and how much I loved his work. I told myself that when an essay on Mort won me a scholarship to high school. I told myself that when an essay on Death in Discworld won me a scholarship to college, and then helped send me to professional school. I told myself I would write Terry Pratchett a letter every year for over ten years, and then he died and I never sent him a letter and I regret never sending him a letter.
I also think about shinigami.org. Shinigami.org was a Gundam Wing fansite way back in the early 00s, run by a fan named Kumiko. Kumiko was the first fanfic writer I ever idolized. I don’t remember the quality of her work or the characterization or the writing style or the pairings, but I remember the way her work made me feel. I loved this one Hitchcock AU in particular. I checked shinigami.org every single day during computer time in 8th grade, desperate to see if she had posted a sequel to that fic. Then Kumiko announced she was shutting the site down. Agonized, I then checked every single day to see if she would reverse her decision. She never did, but before she took the site down she posted a note saying she was thankful for all the people who had messaged her with kind words and praise. And then I felt embarrassed and bad, because it hadn’t occurred to me to tell Kumiko how much I idolized her (and I did) and how great I found her Hitchcock AU (and I really, really did).
These are not the only times I haven’t commented. They happen to be the only times I have felt BAD about not commenting. Why? Not because I was stiffing Kumiko or PTerry — I wasn’t. I paid for my copy of Mort and every subsequent Discworld book I bought, so I wasn’t denying Terry Pratchett anything he was lawfully owed. And Kumiko had made the choice to establish a Gundam Wing website for free and post stories on it for free and (unlike some of her contemporaries, say, PL Nunn, who charged for a lot of her work) was not asking fans to enter into some kind of contractual arrangement where they owed her currency for stories rendered. So I wasn’t backing out on a deal with either her or Terry Pratchett, and I didn’t feel bad for that reason. I felt bad because I missed a chance to express what Terry Pratchett’s work meant to me and what Kumiko’s work meant to me. I felt bad because their brought me intense happiness and I had the words in me to reflect on that happiness and just why it had such a pull on me and made me rethink the way I looked at the world. But I did not use those words, which was a missed chance for me to know more about me.
Don’t comment because comments are fandom currency. Comment when you feel like you have something to say. Don’t feel bad about not commenting because you “owe” a comment. You don’t owe comments. But if you have a feeling you can capture, something a work brings out of you, and you don’t take the time to sit with yourself for a few minutes and capture that feeling, then sometimes that can be a shame.
That’s how I feel about comments. And no, I don’t comment on everything. And honestly, you shouldn’t have to either. If you feel like it helps to create a welcoming fandom space, if it makes you more the person you want to be, then comment away, but even that, I think, should be more about how commenting helps you create something you value than how commenting is something you owe. I don’t think that, because I have written fic for free, I am thus owed the reactions of every single person who stumbles on that fic and happens to have a positive reaction. I do think, because I read fic for fun, that sometimes there’s added joy in taking the time to express myself to the original creator. Those are two very different approaches.
And, it goes without saying, appreciate every comment you get. Because no, people don’t owe them to you.
All of this! ❤
sirius black is 145 days older than james potter and don’t think for a moment that he didn’t hold that over his head
sirius, inspecting his facial hair: don’t worry, prongs. you’re bound to hit puberty soon, i’m sure of it.
respect your elders, prongs: dumbledore, mcgonagall, your mother, me.
what’s that? i’ve got a watch from your parents before you? 144 more days, prongs. hang in there.
age before beauty, prongs. no wait, i’ve got that, too.
as the fairest, tallest, and oldest marauder present, you ought to listen to me.
to lily, when she turns 20: i can’t believe you’re married to a teenager.
how am i one-hundred and forty five days older than you, and i look so young? one of life’s mysteries, i suppose.
to a hungover james: when you’re older, you’ll be able to hold your liquor properly, young buck.
And then one day Sirius is 146 days older than James. And I imagine he probably kept track of every one of those days he was older than Prongs, even in Azkaban.
yea just rip my heart out of my chest why dontcha
To be fair I ripped out my own heart when I thought of it. I just wasn’t going to suffer alone. For those of you who are curious and because I saddened myself…
-October 31st 1981 is the final day Sirius is only 145 days older.
-Sirius dies June 18th 1996.
-So if we go from October 31st 1981 to October 31st 1995 that’s 365 days a year multiplied by 14 years. Ie 5,110 days. But we can’t forget about leap years. In that time 1984, 1988, 1992 are all leaps years. So we can add an extra 3 days to that making it 5,113 days.
-So then we just need the amount of days between October 31st 1995 and June 18th 1996. Keep in mind 1996 was also a leap year so February is going to have a bonus day. So we need to tack on an additional 231 days.
-That leaves our grand total at 5,344 days older than James. Providing I could math properly today. (Forgive me I’m an English major).
-Or perhaps more helpfully that’s 5,199 days without James.
Math has never been more heartbreaking. The math is only going to get even worse if I start considering Remus. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go bury my face into my pillow and scream into the void.
In heaven somewhere watching the trio hunt horocruxes:
Sirius: Don’t worry, Prongs. He’ll be fine.
James: Either one must die at the hands of the other. That’s what the prophecy said.
Sirius: I know. And Harry’s gonna send that smarmy dick straight to hell where he belongs.
James: How can you be sure? What if-
Sirius: I just am. You’ll under stand when you’re older.
*james rolls his eyes, cracking a reluctant smile*
5,344 days older, to be exact.
I’m so glad someone was able to make something non feelsy out of this math. Keep up the good work my friend.
wupacing 