#the soulless taco was a mindless joke i had to figure out how to incorporate so it's a little wonky but there it is

[margindoodles2407]

How taco Tuesday saved the galaxy please!

HAHA You are in LUCK, this is a bunch of BULLET POINTS so you get the WHOLE THING

MUAHAHAHA

HOW TACO TUESDAY SAVED THE GALAXY

AKA The AU Where Nothing Goes Wrong And Everyone Gets To Be A Big Happy Family (AKA TAUWNGWAEGTBABHF)

A Star Wars Crack-Treated-Seriously Fix-It AU by Margin and Margin's Friend

The Premise

All the bad things that happen in the Star Wars prequels are prevented because Anakin and Obi-Wan established a tradition of Taco Tuesday with friends when Anakin was a young padawan.

The Premise, Broken Down

Tacos are an invention of Tatooine. They’re easy and inexpensive to make and can be garnished with practically anything. When Anakin was a child, Shmi would make them often for this reason, but they were so poor that she could hardly ever afford anything other than cheese and the spicy peppers that somehow thrive in the planet’s arid climate. (To this day, cheese and pepper tacos remain Anakin’s favorite.) Though they weren’t anything much, the simple love and care that Shmi put into the meagre meal established them as Anakin’s most favorite food.

After the events of The Phantom Menace, and early into Anakin’s apprenticeship, he shyly mentions to Obi-Wan that he misses his mother’s cooking. Intrigued about Anakin’s native culture (because he was the only member of the original party who didn’t get to go on that field trip to Mos Espa) and earnest to find ways to understand and befriend his young Padawan, Obi-Wan begins to research traditional Tatooinian cuisine- and Anakin gives him tips as they haphazardly learn to make tacos together. They both highly enjoy their experience, and before they realize quite what’s happened they’ve established a tradition of making tacos together every Tuesday night.

As time passes, they begin to invite friends over to share their taco-making exploits.

In the early years, this means a lot of visits from Obi-Wan’s best friend Quinlan Vos and his own apprentice, Aayla Secura (because the Anakin-Aayla childhood friendship happened and you CANNOT and WILL NOT change my mind).

About three years after TPM, 12-year-old Anakin spontaneously invites Master Yoda over, without Obi-Wan’s knowledge, and he shows up about halfway through dinner, leaving Anakin delighted and his poor master very confused. Yoda continues to just show up, uninvited, from then on, and after the initial shock wears off, taco night without Yoda is unnatural and unheard of. 

Obi-Wan himself, taking note of the mounting tension between his Padawan and Mace Windu, decides when Anakin is about 15 to begin inviting the Master over for taco night as well. Mace doesn’t care for tacos, but does quite enjoy nachos- another Tatooinian invention- and he and Anakin come to the realization that Anakin’s favorite kind of taco, cheese and spicy pepper and crickets, is practically the same as Mace’s nachos in a taco shell. It is the first of many times they will learn to reconcile their differences in such a manner.

Inevitably, Attack of the Clones happens. Padme is still almost assassinated, Obi-Wan still finds out about the Clones and Kamino, Anakin is still assigned to be Padme’s bodyguard and they still fall in love. But Shmi Skywalker doesn’t die. Because in this timeline, instead of a lavish dinner in a gazebo on the shores of a Naboo lake, Anakin makes tacos with Padme and his mother in Cliegg Lars’s kitchen… using ingredients that they bought while their transport, due to a technical oversight and a malfunctioning engine, was landed for a refuel and repair on Tatooine. 

Anakin wants to share his favorite food with the woman he loves, and while in the market, Anakin can’t stop thinking about his dreams about his mother. Their transport will be stopped for a few days, due to the amount of time needed to refuel and repair such a large ship, so he decides to ask around for her while they’re here anyway. He still meets Watto, Cliegg, and Owen and Beru. He still rides to the Tusken camp where his mother is still imprisoned. But he arrives days- nay, weeks- earlier than in canon. He can still save her. Shmi doesn’t die in his arms. The Tusken Massacre doesn’t happen. Anakin gets his mother medical attention and she is saved. By the time they return, though, his and Padme’s transport has already left for Naboo, but they decide Tatooine is still safe enough for Padme, so they let her hosts in the Lake Country know they’re safe but won’t be staying with them after all, and the Larses are kind enough to provide residence for Shmi’s son and the charming woman he’s traveling with.

Obi-Wan’s broadcast still reaches Anakin and Padme, and the battle of Geonosis still happens. The Clone Wars still begin. Anakin is still knighted, still secretly marries Padme, still takes Ahsoka as his Padawan. But in this timeline, there are Taco Tuesdays. 

Even on missions, as often as they can, Obi-Wan and Anakin make time for their taco dinners in some fashion. And their stretches of time on Coruscant absolutely provide for this. Various people come and go, but by the middle of the war, there is an established guest list that meets every tuesday night:

Anakin and Obi-Wan, of course. Ahsoka, naturally, because she’s their little sister. Rex, usually with various members of the 501st trailing behind him, and Cody, as often as he can make it, with at least half of the 212th. Yoda and Mace, who have been coming without fail every Tuesday since they were first invited, unless their lives are endangered or they are halfway across the galaxy. Padme, too, desperately needs a break from her senatorial duties, and as wife close friend to Anakin, she’s more than welcome.

And that’s not even getting into the various guests that will show up at Master Kenobi’s apartment, usually without warning but always welcomed with open arms. Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Luminara Unduli will drop by whenever it is possible for them; Ahsoka will bound in dragging sweet, nervous Barriss Offee behind her at least half the time; Aayla, as Anakin’s closest childhood friend, stops by when she’s not overly preoccupied by something else, usually trailed by her husband Commander Bly or her former master, Quinlan Vos; during particularly tumultuous sessions of the Senate where representatives from nearly every Republic and Neutral Planet are called, it isn’t uncommon to see Padme walking in while in the middle of a conversation with the ever-well-received Duchess of Mandalore. Plenty of Clones can be expected at any given gathering, as well as any Jedi and/or Padawan who just needs a meal.

There are many reasons why so many people are drawn to Taco Night: the warmth of a family, the laughter of friends, the immutable fact that tacos are so diverse that everyone can technically be eating the same thing yet have exactly what they want on their dinner. And the conversations. The discussions, whether jesting in nature or of a more serious subject. 

And it is a mix of all of these things that leaves a mark on Anakin Skywalker.

From the beginning, even back in the days when he was nine years old and it was just him, Obi-Wan, and their apartment’s tiny kitchenette, he had a sense of home. Of a love similar to the one he shared with his mother- not exactly the same, never the same, but not quite so different as he had thought, and a good kind of different. He still misses his mother, of course, but he comes to realize- in a way that his canon self never did- that love multiplies, not divides. That to love Obi-Wan, and then Padme, and then Ahsoka, and then all his other friends, does not diminish his love for his mother. That to have a new family does not mean that he has forsaken the old one. He learns the difference between empty, jealous attachment, and full, warm, self-giving love.

And he learns to listen. The conversations that his family- his large, eccentric, taco-loving family- hold can range from silly (it is perfectly acceptable to tease Obi-Wan for eating tacos with a full set of cutlery, and to laugh at the fact that Ahsoka’s tacos are meat, and only meat, including having a slice of ham as the vehicle instead of a flatbread- Togruta are carnivores, after all) to serious (why exactly attachment is forbidden, what attachment even is, if and how it is possible to reconcile the current state of affairs in the galaxy with the peacekeeping nature of the Jedi), but one thing stays the same- people listen. In this universe, over meals of bread and cheese and various meats, Anakin learns to think about the other viewpoint. To compare, contrast, and reconcile his own beliefs with the opposing viewpoint. To observe, ponder, digest, what the other person is saying before blurting out something rash, or acting on impulse. Anakin learns to listen. 

And listen he does.

For it is not merely Anakin Skywalker who is changed by these weekly dinners. In various manners, the events that transpire at Taco Tuesdays prevent horrible catastrophes taking place.

Barriss Offee’s descent into despair.

The deaths of so many valiant and virtuous men and women.

Awful tragedies within and without the ranks of the Clone Army and the Jedi Order.

Most importantly… the mess that is Revenge of the Sith.

Because he learned to listen, to think, to be mindful of his thoughts and actions while around the dinner table, Anakin doesn’t let his anger get the better of him in the General’s Quarters aboard the Invisible Hand. He does not bow to the pressure of Palpatine to kill Dooku, instead remaining firm in his Jedi principles and insisting that Dooku be kept in custody. 

Because Barriss Offee never betrayed the order, Ahsoka was never framed. She was never expelled. She remains Anakin’s padawan. And so she continues to attend Taco Tuesdays, and one late night, utterly exhausted and thus lacking the filter formed by a fully-awake and alert mind, she comments that Senator Amidala is looking a bit fuller around the waistline than usual. And suddenly it’s not just Anakin and Padme aware of her pregnancy, it’s three Jedi Masters, a Padawan, and at least seven Clones. 

(Needless to say, everyone privately arrives at the very logical conclusion that Anakin’s the father. But at the moment, there are bigger fish to fry, including winning a war and getting the senator proper medical attention.)

The Council still asks Anakin to keep tabs on Palpatine, and Palpatine still forcefully appoints Anakin to the Council. He is still not made a Master. But years of learning while lounging on Obi-Wan’s couch with a taco in hand to listen, to observe, to be mindful have changed several things about Anakin. For one, he no longer blindly trusts the Chancellor. His observations and his intuition tell him that something about the man cannot be trusted. So he is, in this timeline, less reluctant to keep an eye on Palpatine. And for another, he is more understanding and respectful of the Council’s decisions. He may not personally agree with the decision to withhold the title of Master from him, but he understands that to be on the Council at all is a great honor, and he is hopeful that perhaps, someday, he may achieve the rank of Master through his wisdom. 

Obi-Wan is still sent to Utapau. He still confronts Grievous. Grievous is still killed. But back on Coruscant, something is different. Because, Obi-Wan may not be there at the moment- but, in this timeline, he’s not the lynchpin holding Anakin’s fragile sanity together. In this timeline, Anakin is wise. And in this timeline, he is not haunted by the deaths of his mother. Of the Tuskens. Of Dooku. Of the visions of Padme’s death.

When Palpatine asks Anakin to the Opera, intending to plant the seeds of doubt about his loved ones’ safety in the young Jedi’s mind, Anakin has to politely decline. I’m sorry, Chancellor, he apologizes. But that’s Tuesday night. I already have a commitment to keep. No one hears the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise that night.

Palpatine is astronomically frustrated. He has no new apprentice. He knows it’s only a matter of time before the Jedi, finishing tending to Dooku’s severed hands, begin to question their prisoner. He knows that his plan is falling apart at the seams. So he makes a final, last ditch effort to bring Anakin to the Dark Side.

He summons Anakin to his office one bright, clear morning. And he reveals that he’s Darth Sidious. He smooth-talks his way through Anakin’s righteous anger, promising him everything the Jedi can give him and more. He will make Anakin a Master. He will make his marriage to Padme safe and known. He will give him unlimited power, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka can be his right-hand men. They will rule a glorious empire, together.

And perhaps Anakin starts to falter. Perhaps he considers it. Perhaps it truly does tempt him, for though he is wiser in this universe, he is still only a human, proud and prone to selfishness. 

But one thought, only a single thought, crosses his mind.

He asks, “But do the Sith have tacos?”

It is a foolish question, and he knows it. Instantly, his face burns with childish shame. But he was not asking whether or not the Sith can make the Tatooinian staple, not really. He was asking, really, if the Sith can give him the love and warmth and understanding of the weekly dinner meetings. If the Sith can give him a family. If the Sith can touch his soul.

Palpatine is taken aback, for a moment. Then, a smile crosses his face. “Of course,” he promises. And he strides over to his fridge and pulls out… something. A taco, he assures, but in a bag for convenience. And made with high-end, Coruscanti delicacies, not the crude aboriginal toppings of Tatooine.

And Anakin is disgusted. Because this taco is not a taco. Not in the sense that Anakin means. It was mass prepared by droids in a factory, not individually crafted by the hands of someone who knows and loves him. It is filled with bland, blanched pastes, not the symphony of colors and flavors that represent a galaxy of cultures in the palm of his hand. It was made to be nibbled on alone, on the go, not enjoyed with all the people he loves when he made time specifically for them. It is everything that a taco isn’t. It’s empty. Void.

Soulless. Just like the Sith.

Palpatine- rather, Darth Sidious- lies dead at Anakin’s feet, his head cleanly and painlessly severed by an arc of brilliant azure.

With the death of Sidious comes the death of the War. Order 66 never happens. The Jedi Purge never happens. Darth Vader, Ben Kenobi, Fulcrum, and the Rebellion are never born, and Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, and Padme Amidala never die. The Empire never rises from the ashes of the Republic. Bail Organa is elected Supreme Chancellor in the wake of Palpatine’s demise, and he ushers the Republic into a new golden age of peace and prosperity. Padme succeeds in convincing the Senate to pass the Clone Rights Bill, and millions of men rejoice as they are free to live as citizens of the Republic. 

And speaking of Padme- nine months have passed. She does not deliver her twins, dying, on a transport ship from Mustafar, but alive, well, and healthy in a hospital on Naboo, just as she had wanted so badly. She names her son Luke, and while Obi-Wan is still the first to hold him, it is not because of Anakin’s absence or Padme’s lack of strength. Anakin is right there, holding his wife’s hand because she still has one more baby to deliver. Obi-Wan is simply giving his assistance to a friend in need. And Anakin names his daughter Leia, and it is Ahsoka who holds her, torn between excited squeals of I get to be an AUNT, good Force she is the cutest little girl and a quiet, hushed reverence for the tiny life she holds in her hands. 

One final note on the Skywalker Family. Now that the War is over, it can be properly addressed: Anakin broke the Jedi Code, not merely by violating his vow of celibacy but by concealing this truth from the Council. Despite all he has done for the Order- which is acknowledged and given its due praise and recognition- he cannot be allowed to remain in it. Yoda, Mace, Aayla, and Obi-Wan- as well as many other Councilmen and Women- all wish it were not so, but the rules are very clear. And yet, Anakin is wise in this universe. He acknowledges his fault and his deception. He humbly accepts his expulsion, because he knows full well that he deserves it. And so he remains on good terms with the entirety of the Jedi Order. He is even allowed to keep his Lightsaber- because, Jedi though he may no longer be, the Force is still with him. And after all, this lightsaber is his life. 

Ahsoka is transferred to Obi-Wan to finish her padawan training. Anakin and Padme retire to Naboo, where they raise Luke and Leia in relative peace- that is to say, as much peace as you can get when your last name is Skywalker. They are happy. They are very happy. The twins love, and are in turn adored by, their Uncle Obi-Wan and Aunt Ahsoka, on their father’s side, and Uncle and Aunt Bail and Breha on their mother’s. They are doted upon by their Grandmother and Grandfather Naberrie (Padme’s parents) and spoiled by their Grandma and Grandpa Shmi and Cliegg, and Aunt and Uncle Beru and Owen. When it is discovered that they are both incredibly Force-Sensitive, Anakin has to practically wrestle the Council to not admit them to the Creche because all his Jedi friends want to train his children. Luke and Leia have, literally, thousands of uncles and/or cousins in the Clones, who are quite protective of their niece and nephew/baby cousins. No one is exactly sure what Satine is to them, but whatever it is, she has been quoted as saying, in private conversation, that she wishes they were hers, so clearly they have a loving relationship.

And when they are old enough to eat solid food, they, too, join the still-continuing throng of family that gather in Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s living room every Tuesday for Tacos. 

And they love it.