Five Little AUs

[siamesa]

Clicky here for:

1. Star wars fic
2. Actual, live, comics fic
3. The original idea for my apocalypse!fic, which has since swiched fandoms and eaten my brain
4. My attempt at one of those cliched Zuko and Katara arranged marriage fics- but featuring no Zutara!
5. The semi sort of sequel to Wrong Number.

1. (Han/Leia, Star Wars)

“I should kill you,” she says.

 He looks up at her face. “You won’t.”

 The Princess grinds her teeth, fists clenching at her sides. Five months with no contact, as far as he can tell with his ship so busted. Two smugglers and Vader’s daughter might be all that’s left of a Rebellion he never officially joined. He doesn’t think, despite what Imperial propaganda might have you believe, that she really was raised by her father. Nobody who was would’ve held their hand this long.

 "You kissed me,” she says, like he’d done it without noticing. Now she’s staring at her hands, twisting them in midair. He half expects something to go crashing, but the only sounds are still the hum of the engine and Chewbacca’s snores.

 “Yup,” he says, for lack of anything better, and now she’s staring at him again, wrapping her arms around her body. She’s lost, he can tell, now- kriff, they’re all lost, but this is the first time she’s looked it, her hard steel eyes wide and confused.

 

2. (Marvel)

Billy sits out in the hallway, absently kicking his feet. The chairs here are stiff, age and formality combining into something not really meant to be sat on, but there aren’t other options short of magicking one up, and if he does that, someone will notice and make him leave. He can’t leave. He needs to talk to Grandpapa, diplomatic meetings or not.

 His grandpapa, though, has at this point been in the study talking with Mr. Xavier for hours, only the low humming of voices betraying that they haven’t fallen asleep or been killed, and Billy isn’t foolish enough to interrupt them. Everyone might still think he’s too young, but he knows how vulnerable the island is, how over the decades it’s only been fear of his grandpapa and Mr. Xavier’s polite diplomacy that have kept the island’s separation from the humans from all out war. He knows about war. He has nightmares.

 He’s thinking about that when he hears the word “Teddy.”

 Teddy is his best friend, and two weeks ago he kissed him in the woods behind the little school, but Billy’s pretty sure they aren’t talking about that, because he hasn’t even told Tommy. He leans closer.

 “So what is he?” Grandpapa’s voice, angry, annoyed.

 “I don’t know, Erik. He’s clearly not human, we know that, but the fact is that even with his powers fully developed, the device isn’t picking him up as a mutant.”

 “Have you at least tried to make contact with his mother?”

 “Of course. From the looks of things, she vanished off the face of the earth the day after she dropped him off.”

 Not many people were willing to associate their real name with a mutant child. Billy’s parents had been, he was pretty sure, but he didn’t remember them well. He’d arrived here, little and scared, and the lady in red had said she was his mother.

 “Of course she did.” Grandpapa swore then, words that weren’t English and that Tommy sometimes tried to imitate. “Of course she did.”

 

3. DC

 

The melody was lilting, soft, somehow managing to suggest ice and wide places even as she hummed it sweeping her porch in the dusty heat. Inside, the children were sleeping, a pile of freckles and quiet snores. 

 Her husband was due back soon. The last time he’d left, she’d argued with him. She didn’t need to be this protected. She needed to be out there, finding what was left, trying to rebuild like everyone else.

 “There’s nothin’ to rebuild,” he’d said. “You know that.” And that amount of pure hopelessness in his eyes stopped her words. He was an idiot, but he was her idiot, trying to protect his family the best he knew how. 

 “There’s a galaxy out there,” he said. “There’s a galaxy out there of things that want everything else dead, and if you don’t- if you don’t stay here, nobody’s gonna be able to protect the kids.”

 Then why do you keep leaving? she wanted to ask. If you’ve really given up hope, why do you keep trying? But, instead, she kissed him goodbye.

 She wondered, idly, what she might do if the sky opened up and dropped her a Lantern ring, removing the only real logical argument (her powers) that kept her behind here instead of him. Would she go, and bring his family to him as he flew a destroyed universe alone?

 Above her, something hit the forcefield with a pop. Her hands went cold.

 Something small streaked through the air, landing in a smoking heap in front of her. Gold glinted from the dusty air. Fists clenching, she moved towards it, crouching low. A probe? It was rounded, and metal…

 “…Skeets?” said Tora.

 

4. (AtLA)

“Well,” said Sokka, mustering up every bit of “false, angry cheer” that he could, “your ‘necklace’ has arrived, milady.”

 His sister glared at him. “Shut up, Sokka.” Katara was not in a good mood. It wasn’t too late to back out, her parents and brother reminded her constantly, and it wasn’t. It was just too late to back out without Fire Nation “temporary stations” on the outer islands, she reminded herself even more often. 

 Just because her father thought she couldn’t handle herself, and just because her brother spent more time chasing seal jerky than learning about politics, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do her part for her Tribe. This was her part.

 Deep down, though, she knew it had been a mistake.

 The Fire Nation was still chaotic after a near civil war in the last year. Riots in the streets had claimed lives and towns, and turmoil in the palace had, in the end, claimed old Fire Lord Azulon. None of the diplomats had been willing to give anyone straight answers about the initial cause of the conflict.

 “It’s pretty,” came a voice from outside. Katara knew well enough that the cheer in it was a false as Sokka’s. 

 “You’ll excuse Aang,” said Sokka, “his eyes are going.”

 The young Air Nomad mimed a kick as he bounced into the room. Aang was an interesting case. He claimed to have begun his Wanderings, and he had the Master’s tattoo to prove it, of course, but there was something not quite right about him.

 Sokka said he’d rescued the boy and his bison from the blizzard of a few months back, but something in his voice rang false.

 A year ago, he would have told her the secret, whatever it was, in seconds.

 

5. (More Star Wars)

 

“Help me build a snowman, Uncle Owen?”

 It was approximately the hundredth time today Luke had asked, and Owen’s patience was wearing thin. “Go ask your aunt,” he said, also for the hundredth time. He knew Beru, currently in the middle of a feud with that damned green frog for the only warm area of the cave, wasn’t any more likely to go out in the cold than he was, but five Lukeless seconds to try to actually fix the heater were precious.

 “She’s busy. Please? We don’t even have to leave the house.”

 That was the problem. Any “house” where a single broken heater meant a blizzard in the entrance cave was… well, it was probably close to Owen’s personal definition of hell. “Luke, why can’t you build one by yourself?”

 “I have.”

 At that point, Owen made the mistake of looking up. His nephew’s eyes were large, blue, and close to tears.

 Stang it. Yes, this place was hell, but there was no sense blaming it on the kid. 

 “Fine, fine. I’ll help you build a snowman.”

 “Yay!”