An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Halcyon (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Toby Hamilton/Adil Joshi
Characters: Toby Hamilton, Adil Joshi, Lucian D'Abberville, Richard Garland, Lady Priscilla Hamilton
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Communication, is a magical thing!, Spies & Secret Agents, Blackmail
Summary:
"As soon as his shift had ended, the first thing Adil had done was make it to Toby’s room. Despite D’Abberville’s threats, he knew he couldn’t try and brace this himself, and he wouldn’t be able to face himself if he broke Toby’s trust like this; no, even with the threats looming over them, he had to come clean before he truly did something he’d regret."
Adil elects to actually be upfront with Toby about the blackmail situation; in response, they formulate a plan to get back at the Germans without compromising their safety.
I’d love to hear more about your new OC if you want to share!
YEEHAW ANON i am literally always down to infodump about my ocs!!!!!
OK. SO. uhh slight major spoilers for the ending of aa6 bc even tho i haven’t been actively involved in the ace attorney fandom i still stalk the wiki page enough to know certain things but ANYWAYS. HE.
his name is amit bodhisatah! he’s 19 years old and like. apollo justice’s co-counsel in the dream scenario where aa7 is just Apollo’s Adventures Lawyering About In Khura’in bc everyone with their own law firm needs a spunky teenage sidekick/protege to snark at them and offer advice even if they’re literally the only defense lawyer in the entire country
he definitely puts up a bit of a “me, an intellectual” vibe!! like he has impeccable posture and speaks in RP and says shit like “methinks” or “pray tell” but he’s also still a sassy teenager!!! once u get to know him better it’s a one-way ticket to deadpan snark and backhanded compliments. he’s baby until you’re his roommate and he’s praising you for “gathering your wits to run the laundry, really, it is so refreshing to see you wearing different shirts! much easier on the eyes :3″
amit’s also a rly good cook!! part of it comes from the whole “nineteen-year-old lawyer” thing (seriously these goddamn games and their child prodigies) leading to him learning self-sufficiency really quickly, but he’s also genuinely skilled at throwing food together. it’s also a really good way to gauge if he’s upset or anxious, as he has a tendency to stress-cook; if he’s making enough dumplings to feed a small army, clearly he’s avoiding something extremely upsetting
also bc he IS an ace attorney lawyer he clearly needs a Magical Lawyer Superpower and his is psychometry! just by touching an object, he can roughly tell where it’s been in the past, as well as people who may have come into contact with it. it definitely comes in handy during trials as a way of examining evidence in more depth and/or refuting witness testimony (”well, you say that this ring found at the crime scene belongs to the victim; why then, pray tell, was it not present at her own wedding? genuinely curious :3″) !! tho usually outside of court this can easily lead to sensory overload/a bad case of TMI so he usually wears gloves to dampen the sensations
For me, hardly any parentage theory can top space prince Finn, frankly. It would be such a nice contrast to how he grew up—a royal forced into exile as an underclass and whatnot—but alas, today’s not the day to spin our wheels about Finn’s status; today’s the day to theorize about his parents.
And while any names or backstories or home planets could suit them (this is, after all, a versatile theory), what I’ve always thought of is this:
Finn’s royal lineage comes from his mother (at least, from one of them) in the form of being the heir apparent to a well-populated yet galactically isolated planet of golden sands and rich foliage that voluntarily left the Republic during the Clone Wars, when the galaxy tearing itself apart would have been a given. Tikva—the eldest of three with full lips and a fuller heart—was born not too long after the antithesis happened, and the galaxy reunited itself in the most horrifying way possible; she’d have grown up in a luxurious seat of prosperity while elsewhere, famine and oppression would be the backdrop du jour. Her father Ishai (Finn’s grandfather) was a wise and loving king to his people, but their clashes over foreign policy undoubtedly put a strain on their relationship; he talked of personal safety and no entanglements, while she spoke of complacency and weakness.
(Years later, just before Finn’s birth, he would unexpectedly pass away; out of love and shame, Tikva would give her child Ishai as his middle name.)
Fast forward to 0 BBY, and Tikva’s now studying law at a university 20 minutes away from the palace (as is custom, one must be accustomed to public life). When she walks in, her future classmates swoon at the sight of her, everyone clamoring for her to sit near them. She ignores them, finding a spot next to a silent young woman with thick braids who, while undoubtedly impressed, isn’t exactly throwing a fit over the crown princess’s arrival.
Her name is Aria, she later learns; she’s got sharp, wise eyes and a sort of youthful determination to prove herself among her classmates—due to both being at least two years younger than her classmates and twice as busy. She’s not squeamish at much of what Tikva is, from deep waters (her father’s a fisherman by trade) or needle pricks (she’s been giving herself hormone injections for the past two years), but still finds herself stammering and pacing the floor during mock trials (being a bookworm doesn’t do much for confidence).
The two become best friends almost immediately, spending their free time traversing the ancient campus and swapping embarrassing childhood stories. Aria teaches Tikva how to properly roast sea bass without drying it out (the secret is olive oil and lemon slices) while Tikva shows Aria how to exude confidence wherever she walks (shoulders back, chin up). And in that backdrop of civil war and rebellion, they find themselves joining a number of student organizations for freedom, pooling their leftover pocket change (or, in Tikva’s case, half her savings) into aid for occupied planets or funding for the Rebellion. It’s a bold move—the daughter of an isolationist king going against everything she was raised with and purposefully taking the side of justice in a vast global conflict? The news calls her scandalous; Aria calls her brave.
(She never guesses that years later, her own son will have done just the same.)
And in the spring of 4 ABY, as news of the Emperor’s death spreads throughout the galaxy and their little student union celebrates with a round of fireworks, Tikva and Aria share their first kiss underneath the stars.
Their courtship is a lengthy one. Tikva takes it slowly, fearing that the media’s focus on the two of them might overwhelm Aria, but her girlfriend (and isn’t that just a fantastic word to say out loud?) takes it in stride (shoulders back, chin up) on every restaurant date and picnic outing (sea bass with olive oil and lemon slices), never missing a chance to speak of the cornier side the princess rarely shows in public. As the Republic reasserts itself and the Empire recedes further and further into the Unknown Regions, their planet focuses on their affection for each other, their constant pursuit of charity, their reformative works.
Three years after the Empire falls and four years since their first kiss, news outlets planetwide can hardly focus on anything aside from their upcoming wedding (as news outlets are prone to do). The ceremony itself is a bit modest for Tikva and a bit grand for Aria (a perfect balance); they receive gifts of semi-useful pottery and delicate hologram lamé, baskets of fruit from halfway across the globe and lambskins raised locally. The rest comes in the form of cash, which they promptly funnel into refugee aid (Ishai never publicly approves), and they spend their honeymoon on a freed Naboo, bathing in its crystal clear (yet freezing) lakes underneath the light of its so many moons.
All too soon, they’re expecting their first child. Tikva spends her time between official meetings and charity events relaxing with her wife, both pairs of hands on her stomach as they marvel at the life growing within. His grandfather passes away one week before she is due; as bittersweet as his departure is, Tikva can only find comfort in the fact that as one life leaves, another should come tumbling into their lives. Perfect balance.
Six years after the Empire falls, their son is born, screaming as he awakes and calming down as he’s placed in the arms of his mother, looking up at her with such a bright and determined smile that she and her wife decide then and there that he can only be named one thing.
Moishe Ishai Altion is the light of his newly-coronated parents’ life; he has his Ima’s eyes, his Mother’s sensitivity, and enough courage for the two of them. He marvels at every new thing, learns to walk within 9 months, whistles back to the birds with pinpoint precision, knocks his juice bottle to the floor several times without laying a finger on it, and wins the heart of his people almost instantly. The first time Tikva takes him to a large gathering, he begins to cry—not from the noise, but from the strong sensation of everyone’s Force signature pushing and pulling all around him (he’s always been a sensitive baby). Scholars worldwide line up for the chance to teach him literature or the Force when he’s older; parents eagerly organize playdates.
But then, the unthinkable happens.
At two years old, seven months shy of meeting his little sister, their Moishe is taken away from them.
Tikva is at a loss for words; Aria is devastated beyond consolation; the world is horrified as the once-distant conflict comes crashing into their life. The queen can only take comfort in one thing; she never felt his life force slip away. However distant he is, however cruel his captors—Moise is unquestionably alive. She knows this; she can feel it.
Thankfully, their other two children remain within their reach. Naami is a bright girl, smart as a whip—yet exhausted with the burden placed upon her head that was not only unasked for, but uncalled for; alas, with her brother unaccounted for, she is the one who must take up his mantle as the heir. Little Isaac is more careful and studious, observing the world around him like his mothers and his brother before him; but he’s always silent, so silent.
Twenty-nine years after the Empire falls, twenty-one after Moishe is lost, the queen and her consort are relaxing in their bedchambers with the news on, when they notice something quite peculiar; a rebellious Stormtrooper named Finn has escaped and has now become a hero of the Resistance.
Aria cocks her head. “He looks familiar, doesn’t he?”
(He has his Ima’s eyes, his Mother’s sensitivity, and enough courage for the two of them.)
Finn never truly had a handle on the subject as a child back in the Order. Honestly, there would be no way for High Command to bring it up in a neutral way without making them question their own status; therefore, much like any other individual desperate to avoid a confrontation, the matter was simply never brought up in the first place. So, Finn and all his fellow squadmates had grown up in blissful ignorance of what “freedom” truly meant.
Of course, there was no way to ever fully avoid using any word; rather, the concept of freedom was only ever brought up in the concept of “freeing” planetary systems from the decadence of the Republic (were they the enemy because they were decadent, or were they decadent because they were the enemy? No one knew and no one bothered to ask).
Thus, a young FN-2187 formulated this simple definition: freedom was the disconnect from Republic and luxury; thus, to be free was to be in the Order.
That definition never felt right. But it was all he had, so really, it was the only one that existed.
***
The Resistance wove a different story altogether.
Finn would find this out in the months after his defection. From Starkiller to Crait and every bumpy misadventure in between (he knew that war profiteering was bad, Force almighty, could he just enjoy the glamor for one evening?), the term freedom was thrown around rather liberally; everyone insisted they were for freeing everything—freeing planets, freeing peoples, freeing fathiers, freeing the galaxy.
Freeing them from the tyranny of the First Order.
(But if freedom was to be apart from the Republic…?)
After waking up, Finn had wondered if he could keep up this fight. And Poe (sweet, darling Poe) had clasped his shoulder and reassured him that he had no obligation to stay. “You’re a free man, buddy—you get to decide where to go.”
A free man.
He liked the sound of that. Perhaps freedom had little to do with which system ruled over the galaxy at any given moment, then—perhaps it started within himself.
The thought terrified him, of course. He’d hardly been given charge of anything throughout his service (to put it mildly) in the First Order, much less the entire course of his future; yet, it seemed to fit. Scary, yes—yet true.
(A free man.)
He could work with deciding.
***
There had been no obligation to stay.
With the possible exception of Rose (briefly), no one had fully expected Finn to stay behind. He had no obligation to stay; he had done his service, been traumatized within an inch of his life, frankly deserved to rest.
He had no obligation. Yet he did.
Freedom, he reasoned, was in the act of choice: captaining one’s own fate, as it were—determining one’s life. Thus, to be free was to decide.
And, frankly, having seen both ends of the story, the choice to make was fairly straightforward.
Not simple—not comfortable—just clear. Finn realistically knew that there was hardly any glory in civil wars; not every shoot-out on the field or charting on base was glorious. Hell, it could have been argued it was rather stifling at times (not every choice was theirs; could you ever truly be free in a war?). Nevertheless, he pushed through, fought to the other end, hoping for a future that could never arrive.
And, when, against all odds, they succeeded, years later, Finn knew there would be one last choice to make.
***
Finn had never truly had a handle on the subject of freedom.
As a child, freedom was the disconnect from luxury and obedience to the Order; as a young man, it became the pursuit of one’s ideals. The First Order had never brought up the matter, the Resistance thrived on it.
And now, at the end of chaos, Finn had finally found it as he walked apart.
The war had not been kind to him, nor anyone else; this mess of battles and entanglements was not exactly the life he wished to relive. Thus, with a final commendation, he left the Resistance, left to forge a life for himself less concerned with the intricacies of the battlefield.
He could never stop fighting for freedom, though; after tasting it for himself, Finn understood that no one could live without it. He crossed planetary lines, lent a hand to those in need, reconnected with old squadmates just as yearning for life as he had been so long ago.
For once in his life, there was no fighting, no blasters, no cruel dictators or supreme leaders.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Characters: Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron
Additional Tags: Jedi Finn, Love Confessions, listen that ring of poe's in tlj was sorely underused, i guess this is a way of making it up?
Summary:
Rose has no idea how one would go about courting a Jedi.
Surely, this would be a hell of a lot easier if Rey wouldmake the first move; after all, she could probably sense Rose’s feelings even ifshe weren’t so hopelessly and obviously in love (it’s become enough of arunning gag that Poe’s officially put up a sign that says, “IT HAS BEEN (X)DAYS SINCE SOMEONE DROPPED THEIR SPANNER BECAUSE OF CUTE GIRLS”; so far, the record’sbeen 8). She is, after all, a Jedi. Unfortunately, Rose has sort ofsuppressed her Force sensitivity for a few years now, and as a result, it’sgotten a bit, well, rusty, so she has no idea if Rey actually likes her.All she can do about that is pray to the Force every night that she does.
And otherwise, all she can do is spend as much time with Reyas possible while in the middle of yet another galactic civil war.
She offers to check up on the Falcon as much aspossible—and that’s not hard, considering that it’s in such a state ofdisrepair that Rey’s constantly asking her for help. She sits next to herduring mealtimes, swapping her funniest jokes and most embarrassing storiesabout Poe, and trying not to die every time Rey does that giggle, withher hand curled up under her mouth and her nose all scrunched up. Honestly, it’snot her fault that she dropped her spoon that one time. (“No, Poe,spoons don’t count as spanners, why the hell are you changing the sign?” “Becauseyou’re hopeless” “I don’t see you making any moves on Finn, you know” “Shutup”).
Seriously, maybe one of these days, she’ll be able to confessher feelings, to relieve all that tension that’s built up in her chest.
But, hey, she’s embarrassed and Rey’s cute, so she couldjust die instead.
Rose sighs, cradling her hands in between her legs as shecatches Rey joking around with Finn (who’s also still yet to make a move onPoe). Maybe one day, she’ll be brave enough.
