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This is all because of a conversation with @daryshkart about Peter and Star Wars. :D

Peter was old enough when Yondu abducted him (picked him up) to know that Star Wars was made up. Still, he’d always thought space pirates and aliens were all made up too. And now he was plunged onto an actual, real spaceship full of actual, real space pirates, very much like a dirtier, rougher, infinitely bigger Millennium Falcon, and it was terrifying and amazing and by far the scariest/awesomest/worst/best thing that had ever happened to him.

He was severely disappointed in the lack of lightsabers, though.


“You want me to build a what?”

“A sword,” Peter said. “Made of light. It’s, uh, it’s a thing we had on Earth.”

Rocket gave him a narrow-eyed glare. They hadn’t known each other very long yet, but Peter could sense the skepticism pouring off him. “Is this another made-up thing from your stupid Earth stories?”

“No,” Peter said promptly. “Well … yes … but –”

“I knew it!”

“Look, the galaxy has got jump travel, laser guns, artificial gravity, and stuff that looks pretty much like magic to me. Why the heck can’t it have light swords too?”

“Because light doesn’t work that way, you frikkin’ overgrown ignoramoose.”

“It’s ‘ignoramus’,” Peter said, wondering absently as he said it exactly what word he was correcting via the translator, “and fine, a simple 'no’ would have been enough.”

And he forgot about it after that, because it wasn’t like he didn’t have enough to keep himself busy, and anyway, Rocket kinda probably had a point. Peter didn’t know a whole lot about physics (dropping out of school in the third grade had its downside) but he knew what he needed to know in order to keep his ship running, and trying to combine the functions of “laser” and “sword” was probably, well, not a thing for a reason.


It was a week or so after everything that happened with Ego, and with Yondu, and with the Eclector – a week of making repairs to the Quadrant, limping slowly back from the outer edge of the galaxy – when Peter walked into his (Yondu’s) quarters, flopped down on the rank fur covering the bed, and bounced up again with a yelp of pain.

“Groot!” he yelled to the room in general, because the only people who ever came in here regularly were Groot and Gamora, and Gamora was the only person on this ship who wasn’t likely to leave junk laying in the middle of the bed. He picked it up without caring much, intending to toss it into the mess on the floor, and then stopped, holding it in his hand.

He’d never seen this before – which wasn’t exactly a new experience (Groot had probably found it in one of Yondu’s drawers; they were going to have to have a talk about going through people’s stuff again) but he couldn’t figure out what it was, either. It looked like the hilt of a sword without the blade. In fact, it really looked a lot like –

Peter gripped it without really thinking about it, in the handle-like way it seemed meant to be held, and two feet of glowing blue light stabbed out to illuminate the dimness of Yondu’s quarters.

Peter yelled and dropped it. The glowing blade vanished as soon as it left his hand. It plunked into the fur on the bed.

“That reaction was all I was hoping for and more,” came a sardonic voice from the doorway. “I just wish I had been recording it.”

Peter jumped and spun around. “Rocket.” He looked back at the thing on the bed. Picked it up. Squeezed it carefully. This time he didn’t drop it when the light burst out of the end. It even hummed – not quite the right kind of hum, but … damn. He tried an experimental slice through the air. “You … made me a lightsaber. An actual, real lightsaber.”

Rocket looked away and picked his teeth with a claw. “It doesn’t work real well. Actually it’s pretty lame-ass for cutting things. Laser torch works way better – which is pretty much what it’s based off of, just a glammed-up version. An’ the handle heats up if you leave it on too long.”

“You made me a lightsaber.” Peter tried a fancy side-swing he’d seen Gamora do, and lopped off the top of a lamp. Oops.

(Yondu’s gonna kill me was his first thought, for just an instant before the memory of why Yondu wasn’t going to do that slammed into him.)

And he glanced at Rocket in the doorway, at the feigned posture of unconcern, and he couldn’t help thinking that he wasn’t the only one who must have needed something to take his mind off things right now.

Losers, he’d called them once. People who have lost stuff. And they had; they’d all lost too much, and a glowing light stick didn’t bring any of that back – it was really just a toy –

A toy Peter had mentioned once, and given Rocket a quick sketch he’d drawn. And Rocket had remembered. And made it for him.

He was holding an honest-to-God functional lightsaber in his hands.

“I am not joking here, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Rocket. Thank you.” He tried some more swings, this time trying not to aim for any furnishings. “I’m gonna have to get Gamora to show me some actual sword moves.”

“If you take that thing into combat,” Rocket remarked, “you’re probably gonna die. Most likely after accidentally killing at least one of the rest of us, the way you’re swingin’ it around.”

“I don’t care. It’ll be worth it.” Peter looked up, grinning; he was feeling – happy, he was feeling happy, for the first time in a week. “Can you make another one?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“So we can duel. Obviously.” He tried reversing the blade samurai-style and almost cut his hand off. Oops. Probably didn’t want to emulate Luke quite that closely. “Can you make the other one red?”

“Humies,” Rocket sighed, but there was a slight smile tugging at the corner of his muzzle.


So animal control dropped off the brown rabbit today, it was found outside in a park. They were like “This isn’t a wild rabbit, right??” I’m like NOPE.

Bottom picture for size reference of a medium sized breed of rabbit. Granted-it’s still young and will grow-the bottom is a Holland lop. The top bun is a large breed or at least a large breed mix. Flemish Giant, probably!

The poor thing DWARFS our biggest quarantine cage! It’ll stay there for a while then be adopted out. No obvious signs of illness and even a good weight and looks hydrated.

Benedict Cumberbatch, HB pencil in my ‘sketchbook of lopping off the top of Ben’s head’. i’ve been having such a hard time drawing anything lately, and several projects pending, posting this can only be motivational i hope! <3 

[my art tag]

Neverland (10/?)

Summary: The Fakes hate Gemini. They’re a vicious, cut-throat crew who go against everything the FAHC stand for. But when a bigger, badder threat comes along, Michael and Ryan are forced to team up with Gavin - Gemini’s mastermind thief - to take down a common enemy.

The two of them are determined not to get too close - but living together in a small safe house, it’s hard to hide all the ways that you’re broken.

all major content warnings at the start of part 1

Part 1  Part 9  AO3

xvii. petrified

“I’m sure I’ve forgotten something.”

“I’d imagine so. You’re packing your entire life up to move across the bloody world in the span of twenty four hours.”

Gavin will always remember the look on Dan’s face, that night before he left. He isn’t sure how to describe it - not quite betrayed or disappointed, nothing that harsh. Certainly not directed at Gavin himself. But… lost, perhaps, because they’ve been everything to each other for a while now - best friend, brother in arms, each other’s only ally in a world growing steadily more dangerous. Gavin’s had Dan’s back as much as the other way around. Of course Dan doesn’t want him to go.

Keep reading

How to Avenge 101 [Part 13]

[Master list]  [Part 12] … [Part 14]

A/N: I know some of you said you wanted longer chapters (although I promise they won’t be this long again) I just had trouble getting the story to flow if I stopped it in the middle of this ‘part’ – so Part 13 is pretty much 2 chapters at once, because I didn’t want to stop writing it. Plus I know I said this would be up yesterday – so take this as my apology for being late! I hope you enjoy it <3

Word Count: 4,281

Warnings: Violence, injuries (including blood), mild language.

You’d closed your eyes, bending your head into the crook of your arm as you fell. The next thing you felt was your shoulder and hip smacking against an exceptionally hard surface, something also stinging your knee. The material of your outfit flexed accordingly, trying to dissipate the impact, but it was to no avail. You felt dust in your mouth, and you choked almost instantly, trying to expel the dry powder.

Keep reading

on the topic of how i am more like solas than i thought: one of the most fascinating things about this character is his contradictory nature.

at first he comes across as quiet, calm, and rational - which isn’t exactly untrue, but as you get to know him better, you also find out that he’s easy to piss off and can get incredibly forceful* when defending his opinions. he is genuinely kind (i will fight you on this), but also a master of verbal sparring. have him in your party long enough and sooner or later you’ll hear something positively vicious. it’s beautiful

*i don’t know how they pulled this off so well. he rarely raises his voice, but there’s so much power behind his words. passion, ancient knowledge, the weight of a very long life, his own regrets.

then there’s the fact that he’s arrogant and prejudiced, yet his entire thing - the topic he’s most passionate about, the traits he values most in others, the theme of his actions in the “good old days” - is freedom, open-mindedness, independence. the thing is, he does display open-mindedness in several banters with other party members … it just takes a while to get there. examples:

Solas: I wish to apologize for what I said to you, Blackwall.
Blackwall: You were right, though. I deserved it.
Solas: My people had a saying long ago - “The healer has the bloodiest hands.” You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. You cannot heal pain by hiding it. You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better. You have taken the first step. That is the hardest part.

Solas: I do not understand you, Sera. You do not have an end goal for your organization.
Sera: Nobles get rattled, and people get payback. I play in the middle.
Solas: Why not go all the way? You see injustice. And you have organized a group to fight it. Don’t you want to replace it with something better?
Sera: What, just lop off the top? What does that do, except make a new top to frig it all up?
Solas: I … forgive me. You are right. You are fine as you are.

Solas: How does passively accepting your fate constitute a fight?
Varric: In that story of yours–the fisherman watching the stars, dying alone–you thought he gave up, right?
Solas: Yes.
Varric: But we went on living. he lost everyone, but he still got up every morning. He made a life, even if it was alone.
Varric: That’s the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you’ve got, it takes–and it’s gone forever.
Varric: The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That’s as close to beating the world as anyone gets.
Solas: Well said. Perhaps I was mistaken.

… and pretty much all of his dialogue with cassandra. i love solas and cassandra together so, so much. *___*

what i’ve been wondering is, how do these things come together? how does one end up so passionate about freedom, and so in love with open-mindedness, while at the same time maintaining a level of arrogance that seems to directly contradict this? (that was the point in my original train of thought where i went, “oh. it me. whoops.”)

i really can’t explain it, but here’s another quote that i suspect may contain a hint:

Solas: It is a delicate balance for those who fight.
Solas: If they lack sufficient passion, they never become truly skilled, and die or leave the life.
Blackwall: But too much passion, and they end up dead - or monsters better off dead.
Solas: Yes. It is a rare soldier who can fight without letting it define him.

harry potter reread: philosopher’s stone pt v
  • after getting the nimbus, ron and harry “found the way upstairs blocked by Crabbe and Goyle.” does malfoy just fucking wait around for harry or what? does he methodically plan his every move based on what harry’s doing? ‘malfoy i’m hungry’ 'HUSH goyle we must wait here on the off chance that potter comes by’
  • wood mentions a quidditch game that went on for THREE MONTHS!!! why can’t wizards just make things easy for themselves
  • ok so wood doesn’t know what basketball is but he pulls out a bag of golf balls to practice with, do you think he knows about golf? or did he just marvel at them when he got the bag like 'what curious muggle trinkets are these' 
  • “Ron, however, was to be paired with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this.” YOU TWO GET MARRIED LATER HA HA HA
  • when ron tries the levitation spell he just screams WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA “waving his long arms like a windmill.” you ridiculous tall child
  • on halloween, quirrell doesn’t rush in bellowing about the troll at the top of his lungs, but runs ALL THE WAY to the staff table and gasps it before 'fainting’. do you think when he was down on the floor voldemort was hissing 'YOU FORGOT YOUR STUTTER, YOU’RE NOT COMMITTED ENOUGH TO THE PART!! merlin i cannot BELIEVE this amateur, I CAN’T WORK IN THESE CONDITIONS’
  • when snape gets bitten by fluffy, harry walks in on filch helping to bandage the damaged leg. snape is just “holding his robes above his knees” to treat the wound, which has put the horrific idea in my head that he doesn’t wear anything under his robes. sexy legs snape
  • to cheer harry on, the gryffindors make a banner saying 'potter for president’ which is really cute but you can tell they struggled with that one. 'quick what else begins with p?’ 'uhhh president’ 'what? the uk doesn’t even have a presidency. fuck it we’ve been working on this for hours. dean paint the lion now’
  • “When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let out his feelings.” this is the equivalent of a football player suddenly breaking out into a dance after somebody else scores
  • i’m not the first person to pick up on this but the weasley twins bewitch snowballs to hit quirrell in the back of the head and so voldemort repeatedly gets hit in the face. he must’ve been absolutely livid, just imagine him trying to contain his rage
  • madam pince brandishes a feather duster at harry which means she probably doesn’t use magic to tidy the library. gotta keep busy somehow i suppose
  • i’m SO in love with the fact that molly makes harry a sweater, she is such a wonderful sweetheart. and harry genuinely treasures it because he’s never been given anything made with so much love - the dursleys only give him 50p!!! AND THE TWINS FORCING PERCY’S SWEATER OVER HIS HEAD! look at these children being brought together by knitwear. my heart has grown 3 sizes
  • “Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry’s amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lop-sided.” STOP IT YOU SAUCY MINXES
  • i watched the last two movies the other night and i love that even this early on in the books the trio symbolise the hallows. when harry looks into the mirror he sees his dead family members, whereas ron sees himself as head boy, holding both the house cup and the quidditch club. harry represents the resurrection stone and ron the elder wand, solace with loved ones and eternal glory respectively. good foreshadowing there
  • ’“I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.’ please picture dumbledore creeping along the halls in full camo gear
  • Solas: I do not understand you, Sera. You have no end goal for your organization.
  • Sera: Nobles get rattled, and people get payback. I play in the middle.
  • Solas: Why not go all the way? You see injustice, and you have organized a group to fight it.
  • Solas: Don't you want to replace it with something better?
  • Sera: What, just lop off the top? What's that do, except make a new top to frig it all up?
  • Solas: I...forgive me. You are right. You are fine as you are.
  • Sera: You hurt my head sometimes, Solas.
  • Solas: Yes, I have been known to do that.
Solas’ in-game conversations with Sera are a little bit heartbreaking once you’ve done Trespasser:

In hindsight it’s so obvious how desperately he’s trying to find something familiar in her, something that shows the elves he knew are still there somewhere:

  • Solas: Ar dirthan'as ir elgara, ma'sula e'var vhenan.
  • Sera: Pppbbthh!
  • Solas: Excuse me?
  • Sera: Excuse yourself. Whatever you said and what I did, same difference to me.
  • Solas: I’d hoped, well, our people can sometimes feel the rhythm of the language despite lacking the vocabulary.
  • Sera: Uh huh? Know what else is good? Words that mean things. Like these. Words.
  • Solas: Fenedhis lasa.
  • Sera: Pppbbthh!


  • Solas: What color is the sky, Sera?
  • Sera: Hang off.
  • Solas: It is an earnest question. What color is the sky when you look at it?
  • Sera: You know. Blue, mostly. Except for the Breachy bits.
  • Solas: And when you looked past the Breach? As perhaps you were drawn to do?
  • Sera: Greenish? Then clear a long ways, and kind of… felt like falling.
  • Sera: Ugh! Makes my head hurt. You make my head hurt.
  • Solas: We are not so far apart, you and I.

and letting his Fen’harel show:

  • Solas: I do not understand you, Sera. You do not have an end goal for your organization.
  • Sera: Nobles get rattled, and people get payback. I play in the middle.
  • Solas: Why not go all the way? You see injustice. And you have organized a group to fight it. Don’t you want to replace it with something better?
  • Sera: What, just lop off the top? What does that do, except make a new top to frig it all up?
  • Solas: I…forgive me. You are right. You are fine as you are.
  • Sera: You hurt my head sometimes, Solas.
  • Solas: Yes, I have been known to do that.

and perhaps most heartbreaking of all:

  • Sera: (shivers) Weird.
  • Solas: Sera? What are you feeling?
  • Sera: Ugh, here we go. It’s nothing, it just feels like I’ve seen this. Exactly this. It happens.
  • Solas: Not to everyone.
  • Sera: It’s not an elf thing. You’re not shaking.
  • Sera: I suppose now you’ll switch to how I’m the same but different?
  • Solas: You are different. You are the furthest from what you were meant to be.

You are the furthest from what you were meant to be

They really are the perfect complement to each other.

Solas, the ancient elf, who is seemingly convinced there is nothing of left of his people in ‘modern’ elves, but wants desperately to be proved wrong and so searches for it in the most un-elfy of elves.

And Sera, the elf who obviously has the potential to be more ‘elfy’ and rejects it flat out.