I Love That In The “so Uncivilized” Story Level In Lego Sw Skywalker Saga (aka The One Where You

Just want to remind everyone of this

Harry Potter and Pinterest at 1:30 in the morning had me laughing like a lunatic. After sleeping, this is still funny.

Royal Blood AU:

Where the Jedi don't really know anything about Anakin's step-family so Luke goes to Padme's family while Leia goes to the Organa's.

He is raised as Luke Naberrie, spending his first few years of life under the care of his grandparents ( You know - the people who raised Padme Like That).

Now, the Naboo, particularly the political elite of Naboo, are very good at the shell game of deception. When he is finally revealed, the family claims he is a year younger than the truth, and there is, around him, all the hushed silence of a well-supressed scandal. The nature of it is... nebulous.

Luke grows up in a small cloister of other fair eyed, blonde haired boys - Aunty Eirite's son, and his cousin, and the boy from a family that has long been loyal to House Naberrie.

He is, as a child, like any other boy of his House. Perhaps his instincts are a little better, perhaps he learns a little faster, perhaps he picks up skills more aptly.

Perhaps he is another genius, like his Aunt Padme. His family pours all their love and learning into him, and - and their loss, though perhaps they do not mean to.

He is a Nabberrie, after all, and he follows in the family profession and is elected a Prince of Theed at the age of 13 (14, really).

He chooses a political pseudonym from one of Naboo's more modern heroes.

He takes on the title Prince Skywalker.

At the age of 16, he goes on to be elected the Junior Senator of Naboo, now Senator Skywalker.

He butts heads with Princess Organa his first day in the Senate, and somehow they quickly become inseparable rivals.

Darth Vader has an indescribable grudge against this blonde child - children, since he has several decoys/ assistants. Leia Organa has impeccable timing for interrupting when Luke finds himself cornered for intimidation.

Darth Vader grows to find them both incessantly aggravating.

He can't quite bring himself to crush them. He's not certain why.

Bail Organa and Senator Nabberrie ( Luke's grandfather) have so many gray hairs. They are both, however, incredibly proud of their budding, unstoppable baby rebels.

( Yes Luke has R2D2 and Leia has C3PO, yes the droids regularly thwart Darth Vader too. Luke is an ace pilot just like his childhood hero, Leia is a sharpshooter just like both her mothers).

What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect–what if she took him in?

Petunia was jealous, selfish and vicious. We will not pretend she wasn’t. She looked at that boy on her doorstep and thought about her Dudders, barely a month older than this boy. She looked at his eyes and her stomach turned over and over. (Severus Snape saved Harry’s life for his eyes. Let’s have Petunia save it despite them).

Let’s tell a story where Petunia Dursley found a baby boy on her doorstep and hated his eyes–she hated them. She took him in and fed him and changed him and got him his shots, and she hated his eyes up until the day she looked at the boy and saw her nephew, not her sister’s shadow. When Harry was two and Vernon Dursley bought Dudley a toy car and Harry a fast food meal with a toy with parts he could choke on Petunia packed her things and got a divorce.

Harry grew up small and skinny, with knobbly knees and the unruly hair he got from his father. He got cornered behind the dumpsters and in the restrooms, got blood on the jumpers Petunia had found, half-price, at the hand-me-down store. He was still chosen last for sports. But Dudley got blood on his sweaters, too, the ones Petunia had found at the hand-me-down store, half price, because that was all a single mother working two secretary jobs could afford for her two boys, even with Vernon’s grudging child support.

They beat Harry for being small and they laughed at Dudley for being big, and slow, and dumb. Students jeered at him and teachers called Dudley out in class, smirked over his backwards letters.

Harry helped him with his homework, snapped out razored wit in classrooms when bullies decided to make Dudley the butt of anything; Harry cornered Dudley in their tiny cramped kitchen and called him smart, and clever, and ‘better ‘n all those jerks anyway’ on the days Dudley believed it least.

Dudley walked Harry to school and back, to his advanced classes and past the dumpsters, and grinned, big and slow and not dumb at all, at anyone who tried to mess with them.

But was that how Petunia got the news? Her husband complained about owls and staring cats all day long and in the morning Petunia found a little tyke on her doorsep. This was how the wizarding world chose to give the awful news to Lily Potter’s big sister: a letter, tucked in beside a baby boy with her sister’s eyes.

There were no Potters left. Petunia was the one who had to arrange the funeral. She had them both buried in Godric’s Hollow. Lily had chosen her world and Petunia wouldn’t steal her from it, not even in death. The wizarding world had gotten her sister killed; they could stand in that cold little wizard town and mourn by the old stone.

(Petunia would curl up with a big mug of hot tea and a little bit of vodka, when her boys were safely asleep, and toast her sister’s vanished ghost. Her nephew called her ‘Tune’ not 'Tuney,’ and it only broke her heart some days.

Before Harry was even three, she would look at his green eyes tracking a flight of geese or blinking mischieviously back at her and she would not think 'you have your mother’s eyes.’

A wise old man had left a little boy on her doorstep with her sister’s eyes. Petunia raised a young man who had eyes of his very own).

Petunia snapped and burnt the eggs at breakfast. She worked too hard and knew all the neighbors’ worst secrets. Her bedtime stories didn’t quite teach the morals growing boys ought to learn: be suspicious, be wary; someone is probably out to get you. You owe no one your kindness. Knowledge is power and let no one know you have it. If you get can get away with it, then the rule is probably meant for breaking.

Harry grew up loved. Petunia still ran when the letters came. This was her nephew, and this world, this letter, these eyes, had killed her sister. When Hagrid came and knocked down the door of some poor roadside motel, Petunia stood in front of both her boys, shaking. When Hagrid offered Harry a squashed birthday cake with big, kind, clumsy hands, he reminded Harry more than anything of his cousin.

His aunt was still shaking but Harry, eleven years and eight minutes old, decided that any world that had people like his big cousin in it couldn’t be all bad. “I want to go,” Harry told his aunt and he promised to come home.

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The forest around them is silent when the call is given. A sharp whistle of bird song that should be impossible for anyone with human vocal cords and the sudden whine of blaster fire as a dozen figures rise from the shadows and open fire.

None of them acknowledge the flash of red hair, darkened with dirt and muck, that dives past them. Darting through the last few trees before he leaps rolling as he lands metal already crunching beside him as his hand rises and even now after months of fighting Neild can’t compare it to anything. Not the way he moves or the way he fights, everything so very fluid and wrong besides the small figures he fights beside. All still growing into their bodies compared to the quick controlled dance the other always manages. 

A body falls with a blaster bolt perfectly centered on it’s forehead and the figure is already off again. Flashing steps, the shadows themselves seeming to rise around him and Neild is reminded of the old stories of their greatest warriors. Unstoppable hunters, fearless warriors. A blaster on his back in favor for the staff he’s taken too, a bloody dance that defends as many of them as he can while decimating those who threaten the young while Neild can only watch.

Metal creaks, shatters and the doors swing open with out a touch. Nothing but the sweeping pull of a hand and the groan of twisted metal as those of them that aren’t keeping watch dart forward to pull the children from the back of the truck Obi-wan has practically torn to pieces.

Obi-wan himself stands apart, a vibroblade clutched in one hand, staff and blaster hanging across his back and the air around him still and silent. If Neild looked closely he knows what he’d see. Eyes like the void of space, maybe even an extra pair and fangs sharper than anything he’s seen in the wild of his home.

Neild doesn’t look. None of them ever do.

The young know when something is just a little off, but they also know that it means nothing when everything they’ve ever known is wrong to begin with. They’ve heard what the elders had to say about the Jedi, and they know what happened to the first. Even if Obi seemed certain she’d live through it.

Whatever he is, whatever he may become Obi-wan is one of the young now.

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY (MARCH 8, 2020)

LADIES OF THE MCU + CHOOSING TO BE A HERO

As someone who lives in the US, they’re not wrong.

Lmfaaooooo Norway just called the US a dusty ass bitch and they ain’t wrong

I’m always a slut for ‘Anakin decides not to murder children and it saves the galaxy’ AUs, but I’m also always a slut for ‘Anakin decides not to murder children and it doesn’t save the galaxy’ AUs, partially because I’m sure Palps had several contingencies in place for Anakin not falling, and partially because the concept of baby Luke and Leia being raised by their Mom, Dad, Uncle Obi and Aunt Soka while they run the Resistance kills me.

There are so many incredible directions it can go, but my personal favorites are:

Leia gets a lightsaber and becomes a terror of the galaxy, eventually killing Sidious through sheer bloody-minded stubbornness and no little amount of vigorous stabbing.

Luke and Anakin bond over piloting while Obi-Wan is sick in the back of the transport.

Obi-Wan and Padmé getting drunk and taking the piss out of Sidious. (“Have you— *hic* have you seen his hair?” “Atrocious.” “Fuck, and the robes.” “No sense of panache whatsoever. I was never so unstylish when I wore robes.” “Yes, you were very hot.” “What?” What.”)

Ahsoka, Leia, and Luke prank wars. Blue milk in the pillow is how it starts. Three imperial bases burning while R2 cackles in the background and Padmé and Obi-Wan yelling at them is how it ends.

R2 and Luke are Best Friends. R2 and Leia are Mortal Enemies. Anakin takes Luke’s side. Obi-Wan takes Leia’s. Ahsoka and 3PO form their own team. Padmé privately decides that she can’t be bothered and lets her family have their stupid feud while she establishes another rebel base.

Hondo Ohnaka frequently kidnaps Luke and Leia and tries to get them to join his crew. Leia scams him every single time in the hopes that it’ll get him to back off. It just makes him try harder.

Han Solo shows up when the twins are 16 and both of them get horrible crushes on him. Anakin hates him for it. He shows up again when the twins are 22 and gets a horrible crush on both of them. Luke thinks it’s kind of sweet. Leia is not impressed. Anakin still hates him.

Luke goes out on a routine supply trip and comes back two weeks later with a whole covert of Mandalorians, including one named Din to whom he is very attached. Anakin blames Obi-Wan for it (“It’s your genes. Your stupid, defective, mandalorian-attracting genes.” “Luke and I aren’t even related!!” “You did this.”)

Padmé ‘three outfits a day and no less’ Amidala, Leia ‘braids and floor-length bodycon dresses’ Skywalker, and Luke ‘Chanel boots’ Skywalker, are fashion icons. Anakin, who is almost always covered in grease stains, is consistently mistaken for their escort and/or servant.