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mistressminako · 7 years

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Everything Could Change

The Imperial summoning circle with dear @eustacefrog at the helm has requested the rise of demon!Krennic. I did my best to oblige. 1717 words.

Content Warnings: post-Rogue One, mentions of death; unhealthy power dynamics; boot fetish; torture; poison; character death; possession; incorrect usage of holocrons; Tarkin/Krennic; Galen/Krennic

The telltale tap of leather jackboots on durasteel centered his attention. Orson Krennic steeled his jaw and raised his chin.

The lock clicked and in stepped a pair of his own death troopers. Strolling behind them, his arms tucked behind him like an old schoolmaster, was Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin. The troopers moved to flank his sides and Tarkin came to parade rest right in front of him.

He sat motionless. A cold barrel prodded his shoulder. He kept his eyes fixed on those boots. The worn leather had known the kiss of countless worlds. He’d watched the blood of men and beast alike soak into the leather. He’d licked his own cum from the rough surface. His wrists were raw under the binders. His shoulders ached from being locked into position behind him for so long.

He spat at those boots. His troopers reacted instantly, not even allowing him the satisfaction to see his fluids once again marring Tarkin’s beloved footwear. The butt of an E-11 came down across the back of his head, sending him crashing to the floor.

He’d felt the heat of the superlaser scorch the air above him.

Galen Erso had sabotaged the project.

He lifted his head to stare at the crumpled body of it. Galen and Lyra’s child. The creature that had escaped him so long ago. The harpy that had sealed his fate.

“Galen…” he croaked, his voice weak and broken. A pair of arms threaded under his shoulders and he was blinded by white-hot pain as the stormtroopers hauled him to his feet.

He woke with a start. Durasteel flooring flowed past him. His custom Ar’tranio leather boots scraping the breaks between floor panels he had designed, which allowed for the changing external pressure caused by the Death Star’s Class-IIV Mark 3 hyperdrive. His lips pulled tight in a congratulatory grimace.

“Awake now?” Tarkin’s voice was cold, his customary politeness clipped and impatient.

“I’m awake,” he looked up, the corners of his mouth lifted in that boyish smile Tarkin loved so much. “Wilhuff.” The name fell from his lips in a breathy sigh. He could see the line of the old fox’s cock through the thick folds of his uniform.

Tarkin’s hand came down across his cheek in a swift and brutal traverse. The force of the blow knocked him sideways, wrenching the shoulder that damned idiot had blown open in his pathetic attempt at heroism.

His scream rang in his ears. His shoulder was a white-hot blaze of agony. His fingers brushed limply against his jodhpurs, clutching reflexively at thin air.

“You talk too much.” Tarkin’s curt dismissal went straight to his cock. A door slid aside into the bulkhead and Tarkin disappeared into the dark hallway. He was dragged in after, unresisting.

The room was full of an assemblage of petty officers. Faceless uniform stuffing that he could have never been bothered to notice. The men were standing in a loose circle. Tarkin casually strolled through their line in his measured officer’s walk. He found himself dragged after and, quite predictably, thrown to the floor. Tarkin hauled him up by his chin until he was kneeling before the man.

This time, he spat blood.

“Oh Orson,” Tarkin breathed, dropping smoothly to one knee. It was then that he became aware of a low murmur. The brainless group of petty officers had closed ranks around them and they were…chanting?

Tarkin jerked his head back to center. That wizened face loomed in front of him like a death’s head.

“Lucky for you, Erso showed his hand too early. We fixed the drift he had coded into the targeting system. I must say, it was very cleverly hidden. Still, I would be a fool to think Erso planted a failure that deep into the mainframe all by himself. Why, the metadata even recorded an officer’s access code.” Tarkin paused to fix him with one of his tight-lipped smiles. “But not your code, of course.”

“Then why are you dragging me through the bowels my battle station?” He snarled, his temper long past its breaking point.

“Because you’re an uncultured whelp who must needs to be reminded of whom he serves.” Tarkin gave him a hard shove. He flailed desperately against the ship’s artificial gravity for an instant before crashing to the floor in a crumpled heap.

His boots were ripped off. Hands unbuckled his belt. An ugly laugh bubbled up in his throat as his pants and briefs were tugged free.

“You’re going to fuck me while your men stand around and watch?” His voice cracked. Black gloved hands hauled him back to his knees. His own men. He turned his rage on Tarkin’s smugly smiling face.

“Are you so insecure in your masculinity that you’re jealous of Galen’s corpse?” A bitter chuckle bubbled up in his throat as he fought against the iron-clad hold of his men.

Tarkin kneeled down and brushed his cheek tenderly. Against his better judgement, he leaned into the touch.

“That’s better.” Tarkin leaned in, pressing warm lips against his own. A whimper escaped his throat and he licked Tarkin’s lips hungrily.

Then the old fox dug a thumb into his shattered shoulder.

He jerked back, inhaling sharply. There were any one of a hundred curses on his lips as he blinked through the red haze of seething hatred. Tarkin was dabbing at his lips with a handkerchief. He drew in a shuddering breath.

“You think I helped Galen?” He rasped, throat suddenly tight. He watched as Tarkin removed the stopper from a glass vial and downed its contents. The man gave an exaggerated sigh of delight and handed the vial off to one of his officers.

“In fact, Orson. Whether you helped him or not is none of my concern. I am in charge of this battle station now, meaning you have lost your purpose.” Tarkin dropped to one knee again, a slight smile playing on his lips. “But I have graciously convinced the Emperor that you have more to offer his Empire.”

Tarkin opened his hand, producing a small glowing pyramid. “A Sith Holocron. The Jedi and Sith have used these for centuries to record their knowledge and pass it on to those who are deemed worthy.” He watched as Tarkin took the device in both hands and gave it a cruel twist. There was a loud click from inside the device.“Pathetic superstitions of a dead religion.”

His chest seized. He gasped for breath though there was little enough air making it into his swollen throat.

“Relax, Orson.” Those bony, gnarled hands reached out to pet his own greying hair. “The poison works fast.”

He jerked in his restraints, fighting to relax his throat. The device in Tarkin’s hand began to glow as the low chanting around them increased in volume. A sickly green smoke rose from the cursed thing and he watched in horror as Tarkin breathed deeply, inhaling the smoke into his lungs.

Tarkin’s eyelids fluttered and he watched in muted horror as thin veins of green rose in Tarkin’s face and neck. Tarkin’s lips pulled back, face twisting into something inhuman as he leaned in. Cracked, cold lips pressed against his own.

The world brightened for a second as Tarkin forced the tainted air into his lungs. The smell of smoke burned his nose and his mouth tasted like ash. His nerves were buzzing even as his chest heaved from lack of air. Tarkin pulled away and he slumped forward in the troopers grip as a black void slowly closed in around him.

He’d never asked where they took Galen’s body.

He had his life’s work to oversee. He couldn’t have been bothered by the mortal shell that had barely contained Galen’s brilliance. The Rebellion had come to take Galen, and so he had done his duty to the Empire and eliminated Galen rather than allow him to fall to enemy hands. What happened to the body he’d run his hands over countless times was no longer his concern.

A pilot. One AWOL pilot had brought the galaxy down around him. Such an insignificant distraction had created the opening for Tarkin to seize the battle station out from under him. His anger roiled, filling his chest and spreading down his limbs.

His eyes snapped open and he gave voice to the formless, white-hot rage within him. The roar that came forth made his throat ache but the sound brought with it a queer sense of satisfaction. He roared again and the sound filled the chamber, doubling and echoing with unnatural harmony.

Every muscle, every nerve, every cell of his body pulsed with agonizing pain. He was lying on his side, bound on a cold durasteel floor. He writhed, testing bonds now at his elbows and ankles.

“Really, Orson. Must you make a scene?” The veneer of Core world polish scraped at his ears and his head whipped towards the voice.

“Release me!” He snarled, unsurprised to find Tarkin settling down beside him. The man reached out a hand and he snapped at it.

He should have been ready for the backhand across his already bruised cheek.

“Now listen here, boy. You are my creature to command as I see fit. You will obey me.” Tarkin’s breath stank of sulphur. With a resigned chuff, he nodded his acquiescence.

“Good boy.” Tarkin’s smug sense of self-satisfaction rolled off him in waves as he reached out again. Those withered fingers combed through his hair, and he found himself pressing into the touch.

Tarkin’s movements shifted and he jerked with a gasp as long fingers curled around something attached to his skull. Tarkin’s fingers rubbed along the ridged protuberance, helping shed the bloody velvet that clung to the twisted horns rising up from his nest of grey-brown hair.

He moaned as his exposed cock twitched against the cold floor. Tarkin’s low chuckle only added a delicious layer of shame to the arousal and confusion that swirled inside him. He filled his lungs with recycled air, enjoying the way it cooled the fire pulsing through his veins.

“Oh yes. I think you’ll prove very useful to the Empire in this new form,” Tarkin murmured in his ear as he pressed a chaste kiss to the base of one of his horns. “Very useful, indeed.”

Note: Krennic’s horns are kudu

#demon!veers #AU #demon!Krennic #orson krennic #wilhuff tarkin #my fic #drabble fill #eustacefrog

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perfecttimemachinestranger · 6 years

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Scritches

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Summary: Even fearsome demonic beings need to enjoy a few simple pleasures in (after-)life. For Krennic, one of them is scritches. This part concludes the story (2867 words, sfw fluff with a sprinkling of angst light).

Characters: Angel!Krennic, Demon!Lyste, Grand Moff Tarkin, Demon Squad Anon

For some background, or simply more of the ‘charming’ Angel!Krennic, see imperialgradients’ Necroholocron!AU masterpost

Huge thanks and much love to @imperialgradients and @nspamc for letting me play with their OCs. I’ve had so much fun with them, and even if this is the final instalment of this story, I can’t promise I’ll be able to leave them alone in the future 😊

Strangely enough, Krennic wasn’t hungover the following morning, and, furthermore, appeared content to find you sitting beside him. He graciously accepted to be scratched both between his wings and under his chin. After a while, he even crept closer and laid his head in your lap.

“Thank you for allowing me to share your quarters tonight, sir.”

“This arrangement is most convenient,” he admitted with a superior drawl. “I had excellent foresight in commanding you here, although I do not recall extending quite such an intimate invitation.” He waved a clawed hand towards the bed, you, himself.

“You told me to help you undress, and I was going to leave, but Lyste ordered me to sleep here.”

“The imp issued you an order?” His wings twitched and he raised an astonished eyebrow.

“He technically outranks me, sir. And he knew I had nowhere else to stay.”

“I enjoyed having an escort; it is befitting of my station. You will continue to accompany me today.” He took your wrist and put your hand back beneath his chin for more scritches. “The present arrangement will continue as well. I am growing accustomed to a certain level of service and thus, I hereby command you to occupy this bed as a nightly occurrence.”

“Of course, sir. I will do my best to be useful.”

You couldn’t help staring as the director got out of bed; he was such a curious blend of greying soft-bellied middle age and otherworldly being. His feet, especially, caught your attention. How could they not, claws rattling against the floor with every step? And, apparently, even demons had knobbly knees.

Soon enough he was back fully dressed, stylish as ever with his cape and shiny, black boots, while you were still struggling to smooth out the creases in your tunic. Why had you let Lyste sleep on it? That question was easy to answer when the small demon peeked out from behind Krennic, flashed you a grin and looked at you with his eyes of bottomless black. You smiled back at the adorable imp, then flinched at the harsh command issued by the larger demon.

“Present arms!”

With no other weaponry at hand than the broom, you grabbed that. Krennic eyed you critically, pinning you with his gaze until you squirmed. Then, suddenly, there was a crack in his resolve, just a hint of one corner of his mouth being tugged upwards, and the next second he was laughing loud.

“A perfect little soldier, have you seen, Lyste?” The imp straightened his back and saluted him.

“I’m trying my best, sir.”

He shook his head. “No. This looks ridiculous. You will ruin my image completely – how can the populace perceive my sovereignty when being visually attacked by such a disgrace?” He tilted his head pensively and pouted. Then he grabbed the broom and broke the stick; it snapped like a twig in his hands.

“There. Better.” He flung the broken wood into a corner. “Now, follow me.”

“Of – of course, sir.” His strength simply baffled you.

Apparently, Director Krennic could be incredibly efficient when he put his mind to it. He read reports and issued orders with astonishing speed, presided at meetings and provided comments to drawings and plans, even lectured you on the lesser-known features of the station, eyes aglow with enthusiasm.

At meal-times he reverted to demonic habits, diving into rare steaks with sharp fangs and a voracious appetite. And then, there were the naps. Without warning, he would crash to the floor and fall asleep, impossible to wake by any means. Often it didn’t matter, but now, the Grand Moff himself would inspect this section and it simply wouldn’t do to have a great white lump lying on the floor just in front of the weapons controls.

“Get him away from here,” hissed the captain in charge.

“I’m trying, I’m trying.” Crouching by the demon’s side, you gently scratched his neck feathers.

“Wake up, please, sir…” You tried scratching a little harder, but it just made him sigh contentedly. You gave a slight tug, just at the end feathers, and a single beat of his wings sent you tumbling over.

“He’s coming now,” the captain announced icily.

Desperately, you put your lips close to the director’s ear and whispered. “Tarkin!” The man twitched in his sleep and you repeated it. “Tarkin is coming, you have to get up, please, get up or he’ll have Lord Vader strangle us both!”

He opened one eye superciliously, and then, as you mimed “Tarkin”, he flew to his feet in a spectacularly undignified manner. He looked around quickly, then strode off with his nose in the air and neck wings proudly spread.

“Ensign!” he admonished. “Are you neglecting your duties? Count yourself lucky for having such a forgiving and understanding mentor as myself.”

Days turned into weeks and you settled in well in the Krennic’s undecorated but very dusty set of rooms. Any attempt to clean was met with immediate disapproval.

“Cleaning droids? How dare you imply that I would accept such artificial service?”

“I could do it myself, then.”

“Do you consider yourself worthy of touching my divine abode?”

He was being ridiculous, but it was clearly a touchy subject and not one you cared to argue with him about. With the director’s recent bursts of energy and fondness for napping anywhere else, it was not like you spent a lot of time in there anyway,

When you did, it was usually in bed.

One evening you were lying on your side, turned away from him and drifting into sleep in the best way possible. A strong arm rested heavily over your torso, holding you close as he leaned his cheek against your shoulder, his hot breath caressing your skin. You felt him nuzzle the nape of your neck affectionately, shivers of pleasure went down your spine, and then you suddenly squeaked pitifully, going tense.

“You are no longer content,” he remarked. “You ought to be, considering the attention being bestowed upon your inferior body.”

“Sorry. Unworthy as I may be, I enjoy this a lot. Just be careful with those fangs, please.”

“You still fear me.” His contented chuckle made you smile. At times like this, it was so easy to forget that he was demon. The reminders were annoying, but very necessary. You must never trust him completely.

“I do.” You lifted your arm and ran your hand along a scaly finger down to the sharp end of a claw.

“You are not expendable.” His teeth were at your neck again, dragging gently over the skin, over and over again until you were finally able to relax.

There are feathers everywhere. It’s the middle of the night and you should be asleep but instead there’s chaos, you’re tangled in sheets and blankets and his goddamned cape that he insists sleeping with. Its familiar fragrance ought to be calming, but now it just adds to the feeling of being smothered in softness. There’s motion, too, an odd gust of wind that sends your hair flying, getting it into your eyes. You can’t see a thing but there’s a distinct impression of wings. Too many of them, and too large. Can’t he just go back to sleep!

You reach out – a downy shoulder against your palm, heaving. It stills and you edge your fingers closer to his neck. There. Just a few scritches and you can both go back to sleep. He stills, and there’s a soft sigh, but then feathers – wings – beat against your face, and you can’t reach around them, your arms are too short. There’s more flapping and the mattress shakes and the entire room seems filled with strange beings that you can’t see but you know they are there. There is growling and sniffing and shuffling of feet. A whirlwind of blankets and sheets around you and you shy away, press against the comparative safety of the headboard. It’s shaking too, the racket enough to wake the dead. The wall is solid against your hand, and then it’s not, and you can’t breathe –

Breathe. In. Out. The air is fresh. Stillness around. You open your eyes and for a moment there’s grey blur where the room should be, but then, clarity. The huge viewport calls to you, beckons you closer. Nothing there, only space. Sleep, that is what you need. And yet, your feet move towards the viewport. As you look to the right, there’s movement just outside your field of vision. Great wings beating majestically, bearing their owner closer, allowing you to admire it as it flies past. Some kind of alien bird, no, a – a man. It’s him and, at the same time, it’s not. This glorious being of wings and faces – too many of all of them and yet they seem to fit him – is Krennic. The rude, arrogant drunkard of a demon! The metamorphosis is unfathomable and yet it is a fact.

He doesn’t deign a glance at you. You wish with all your heart that he would look at you, see you, even just to acknowledge your existence. There is nothing, although you stand staring, hoping until he is just a tiny speckle of light, one star among many.

You awoke to the insistent beeping of the datapad in the main room, left there in the hope that Krennic wouldn’t wake you if he decided to get up and play games at some ghastly hour. You often woke up earlier than you needed to, but with that weird dream it was no wonder you had overslept. Staggering into the other room, you barely noticed your surroundings, but once the cursed piece of technology was silenced, you began to take in the state of the bedroom. The bed was a mess, empty but for your pillow. All the bedding was strewn across the floor, pushed up against the walls as if some giant tornado had passed through.

As you began to put things back where they belonged, you got a distinct feeling of emptiness that went further than the expanse of the demonic director’s quarters. Something moving underneath the bed made you jump, but an inquisitive whimper put you at ease.

“Lyste? Is that you?”

A dark hand with a perfect set of claws became visible, and soon the small demon crept out of there. He looked distinctly unhappy, in spite of holding his trademark slipper, hurt and a little confused.

“Come here?” You sat down on the bed and patted the mattress beside you. Lyste inclined his head and then came to sit beside you, and somehow you just knew what was the matter.

“He has left us, hasn’t he?” Black pits blinked. “He’s gone.” A whimper, and then the imp bumped his forehead against your arm. You put it around him and began to stroke his head as you tried to sort out your emotions. Hurt. Betrayal. Sadness. Anger – no, not that. You couldn’t be angry with Krennic now any more than you could when he was near. Yours was a weird kind of friendship, but it had been that. If one could be friends with a demon.

Lyste’s insistent head bumping interrupted your thoughts. One look at him was enough to understand why. “Sorry. I know. I still have you.” You gave him a brief hug, careful not to startle him, and then he bowed his head. “You like scritches, too.” For Lyste, it was the base of his horns that itched and you spent a long time scratching him, long enough even that the first sharp pain in your chest began to pass. Director Krennic had left and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You will leave, too,” you told Lyste, who was now smiling and showing off his tiny, sharp fangs. “Your Eli will come for you soon.” He smiled even broader, then opened his eyes and ran his tail gently along your arm. “I – I will move on also. I just need a little time. But I will remember you, and him. I will look at the stars and know that you are there, somewhere. It will be painful at first, like now, but then there will only be good memories.”

Something caught Lyste’s attention and he rose swiftly, scurrying away out the door. You returned to the previous chores, and when the bedroom looked reasonably orderly, you went to dress. As you opened the wardrobe with your things, the only one you were allowed to touch, you immediately saw it – a single white feather lying on top of your tunic. It wasn’t a downy thing like those Krennic frequently spread about when he was moulting, but an elegant, yet strong, quill. Furthermore, it was almost twice as long as any of the feathers on his neck wings had been. Reverently, you took it between your hands and sensed a whiff of cologne at the same time as black smoke whirled in front of your eyes, only to be devoured by sharp light. The feather wafted out of your hands and for a moment you thought you had dreamt it, but when you looked, it lay there again.

Afraid to lose it, you kept your eyes trained at the feather as you dressed, and when you were done, you stuck it inside the side pocket where your code cylinder would go if you ever turned important enough to have one. This seemed the more unlikely to happen as you would now have to report to your superiors of your catastrophic failure in keeping an eye on the Grand Moff’s demon.

The great man was in his office, and chose to admit you at once, almost as if he had expected you.

“I’m sorry, sir. I – I can’t explain it, but he’s gone. I – I lost him!” Shame washed over you in unmerciful waves and you hung your head, unable to look at Tarkin.

The Grand Moff was silent for a while, then uttered dryly: “Escaped, is more like it.”

You lifted your head, surprised. “I should have tried to stop him!”

Tarkin eyed you calmly. “Tell me, Ensign, would you have had a chance of succeeding?”

“No, sir. But I should have tried. I was asleep. I’m sorry!”

“He was released. Good riddance, I say.” You stared at him. “Director Krennic’s usefulness here had come to an end,” he continued. “His presence, in any state or form, is no longer required. This station is now fully operational.” He emanated pride and satisfaction.

“Congratulations, sir.”

“Thank – what is that?” He stretched out a hand towards you but stopped short of touching the feather; instead, he slowly retracted his fingers.

“I’m not sure, sir, but I think it comes from him.”

His eyes widened and he pursed his lips, then said: “You may keep it, in private. I don’t need a constant reminder of my failure.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Go, now. You can keep his quarters too. I know you’ve been staying there. Nobody else wants to go near those rooms. That entire section is cursed.”

“Cursed, sir?”

“Cursed! That wretched creature has done more damage than service to the Empire.”

Back in your home, you set to cleaning. Lyste’s presence slowed down the process, but his playfulness lifted your mood. The amount of dust on every horizontal surface was just astounding. The feather found its place on the narrow shelf opposite the bed, and while cleaning, you also discovered a portrait that fit the empty hook on the wall above it. It was a bit weird that someone would decorate their bedroom with an enormous portrait of themselves, but somehow that seemed to catch the essence of the handsome director.

“He’s insufferable, but we like him anyway, don’t we?” Lyste purred.

There were more surprising treasures to be found in cupboards and drawers, nothing neatly stowed, everything crammed in as if in a sudden fit to get rid of it all. Clothes, of course, among them an astonishing number of socks with pierced toes. A ring with the insignia of the engineering corps. A set of ancient-looking instruments, presumably for drawings. More clothes. The impressive DT-29 the director had claimed not to know the whereabouts of – that would have to be turned in to your superiors, later. And, perhaps the most surprising find of all – two full wine bottles, in addition to the numerous empty ones.

Work well done, you opened one of the bottles and poured yourself a glass. You draped Director Krennic’s cape around your shoulders and sat down in a comfortable chair by the viewport, from where you could both see the portrait and look outside. The soft fabric was so slinky it kept slipping through your fingers, but it still carried his scent. You lifted your glass towards the portrait and looked deep into his eyes. Cheers, Director. The once bitter taste of rich red was almost sweet on your tongue. Cradling the glass in shaky hands, you turned towards the stars again and soon had to wipe your eyes to be able see through the haze. Gone. Another sip, and fond memories flooded your mind, making you smile through tears. He is free now.

THE END

#scritches #my fic #angel!krennic #demon!lyste #necroholocron!au #demon!empire

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sithsdoinshit · 3 years

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Fav videogame for siths and imps please. Also, I live for your content :)

Did most of the siths here already :) ohn god that post is 4 years old now

Will add Quizzy, Lana, and the Imps here!

inquisitor: dead by daylight. killer main. has played survivor maybe like.. 3 times. and you can bet your ass he spent real money to get cute outfits for his killers.

lana: hitman. she plays it with theron and koth acting as her “advisors” (see also: annoying backseat drivers). she knows it’s complete fiction, yet may or may not have considered some of the scenarios for real life applications.

----

tarkin: valheim. obviously very good at survival games---the only thing he is decidedly not good at in this game is building aesthetically-pleasing buildings. they’re nigh-impenetrable, but fugly (yes, krennic is laughing at him)

krennic: also a minecraft nerd like vader, but focuses even more on buildings than vader does. and unlike vader, only some people are invited to his server (tarkin in particular is banned. maul is on thin fucking ice for “subtly” trying to take over his server)

hux: love-nikki. basically any phone app where you can collect cute things (yes, that includes neko atsume). do not look at him. do not perceive him. touch his phone and you can say goodbye to your gonads

phasma: doom: eternal. hunt demons and conquer hell itself without any other people getting in your way?? at least ask her out to dinner, first.

yularen: among us. it’s easy enough for an old soul like him to pick up and then proceed to kick ass at. just don’t ask him to figure out how to make things like voice proximity work

thrawn: civilization or crusader kings. as much as he enjoys the realistic history aspect of them, he wishes he could create his own nation. definitely not the chiss ascendancy or anything.

kallus: skyrim. oh gods, don’t ask him how many hours he has on it. he’s dedicated so many years of his life to that devil Todd Howard and zeb will never let him live it down

eli: stardew valley. yeah, yeah, he knows, it’s cliche as hell for the wild space country boy to play a farming sim, but fuck is it addictive. and playing it with thrawn makes him feel.. very domestic.

#video game #lana beniko #grand inquisitor #imperials #tarkin #krennic #hux #phasma #yularen #thrawn #kallus #eli vanto #anon #ask

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acharnemcnt-a · 2 years

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𝐀 𝐍 𝐒 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐄 𝐃

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐝 from his swollen eyes, just as the dusk chases away the sun. Leaving nothing but a well of darkness in the center of his chest that houses nothing but misery and unease. A 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲 sigh falls from Armitage’s lips as he gathers scattered toys across the carpeted floor. A remnant of their…his children’s homebound adventures. He lacks the energy to scold them for their untidiness, a visceral 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐦 in his chest reminding him that they are suffering too. No- he is strong, he will not submit to the sorrow that dares to creep into the recesses of his mind in the dead of night, 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 his mind with memories and soaking his pillow with tears. He has hardened himself to such futile emotions before. And yet...

@debelltio : “ grieving someone who still lives might be the worst pain. ”

Dark ringed eyes rise to lay upon the source of the ever familiar voice of his uncle. A small source of 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 during this time of grief. A soft, sorrowful smile graces the redhead’s chapped lips. No one would know it better than Orson Krennic. Regardless, Orson had managed to overcome his demons and find happiness with the man he pined after for a good portion of his life. Armitage 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐞𝐝 he would be as lucky. ❝ I thought he was the love of my life… ❞ He barely recognizes his own voice, a soft wispy thing. What a foolish daydream. To believe that anyone could truly 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 someone like him. He bit back the gnawing pain in his chest and dammed the current of tears threatening to spill over his quivering lash line. ❝ Maybe he was mine…” He breathes. ❝ But perhaps… ❞ despite it all. ❝ I was 𝐧𝐨𝐭 his. ❞

#⭒✧ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 ✧⭒ » answered #⭒✧ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ✧⭒ » debelltio #debelltio #⭒✧ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊; 𝐍𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ✧⭒ » 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧: verse 007

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r0b0tb0y · 1 year

Note

directors cut for 1 rogue street?

fanfic writer director's cut meme

ROGUE STREET MY BELOVED

Here are scattered thoughts and a piece of 2 Scarif Street to see if posting part of the draft revs me into filling out the rest of the sequel:

One thing I've been really happy about is that three headcanons of mine came true in Andor: he lives in a vehicle, has a good relationship with his adoptive mother, and works in engineering.

Interestingly, I hadn't finished House of Leaves when I wrote Rogue Street, so the distorting staircase was a coincidence (but it was kind of clear that was where HoL was going)

Because the Yonder is shaped by human belief, Kay looks like a stereotypical demon because Cassian grew up with Doom and Gwar and D&D. This gets mentioned in 2 Scarif Street because exorcist Din Djarin thinks it's hilarious.

Krennic is Australian and I tried to show it by making him as annoying as possible

The choices of when they go to Tesco and Sainsburys were absolutely intentional and narratively significant

Maple pecan praline latte really is my favourite Starbucks order

The house's Fucked Locus that functions as a cylinder of negative energy from the basement to the top floor is based on a really unlucky spot in the construction site opposite my old apartment where multiple accidents such as fires, collapses, misapplication of concrete, and dropping stuff all happened in a 2m-diameter area on different levels.

Chewie is Han's watcher demon, but he's a dog, since the movie Chewie was based on Lucas' real dog.

Cassian's paramour in That Other Time is fancast in my head as José Maria Yazpik, since he and Luna have worked together lots and have great chemistry.

I once had someone say they wanted more description of the interior design, which I totally concur on but I don't have a huge design vocabulary. I grew up in a hideous Edwardian house (complete with shrieking creatures in the walls and doors that opened by themselves) so Rogue Street has some elements of that, like the crown moulding, ceiling roses, patterned glass, dark wood panels. I think Galen had the living areas painted and carpeted in cool grey Nordic fashion, since that's his palette in Rogue One.

HERE HAVE SOME EXPOSITIONY DIALOGUE SEQUEL DRAFT (also be warned it talks about religious homophobia):

‘You know, I had an exorcism once,’ Cassian said.

Din winced. ‘How’d that go?’

Cassian nodded in Kay’s direction. So, not very effective.

‘Catholics?’ Din asked.

‘Yeah,’ Cassian’s tone was mild.

‘Must have been a long time ago.’

‘You can see that through the beskar?’ Cassian raised an eyebrow.

’No, you’re just…’ Din waved a vague hand. ‘You seem okay. The way you talk about it.’

‘If you thought he’d be scarred by the experience, why did you ask?’ Kay spoke from further ahead.

‘He brought it up,’ Din pointed out.

‘It’s okay,’ Cassian shrugged, despite the skeptical look Kay gave him. ‘I mean, it’s okay now. I was thirteen.’

‘Your family realised you had a demon?’ Din guessed.

‘No, my family thought I had trauma,’ Cassian rolled his eyes.

‘Which you did,’ Kay added.

‘Yeah, but it was my teachers who called the priest.’

‘Which didn’t work,’ Kay said.

‘It worked on the other boy,’ Cassian muttered.

‘He wasn’t possessed,’ Kay said. ‘He was queer, and probably still is.’

There wasn’t room to get a word in between them—not that Din had much to add.

‘Does it ever work?’ Cassian directed this question at Din.

‘Not on queers: we’re immune,’ Din said, and Cassian laughed. Din frowned at himself: what was he trying to prove? Cassian was spoken for, and the Watcher was a dealbreaker. Maybe some way to assure them he wasn’t a total outsider.

‘On demons, it can work,’ Din kept his mouth talking. ‘What did it feel like to you?’

Kay tilted his head. ‘Like people shouting at my charge. The incense tickled.’

Din nodded. 'A lot of it is showmanship and browbeating the victim into compliance, but if there’s a sensitive priest and a real possession, it can work.’

‘So the Catholicism is auxiliary,’ Kay drawled.

Din sighed. ‘It’s a ritual. Religion amplifies the intent, some of the techniques… but a real professional can lorem ipsum their way through an exorcism.’

‘You’re not making a good case for yourself, you know,’ Cassian said.

‘We’ve been going down these stairs for ten minutes,’ Din muttered. ‘You notice how nothing has attacked us?’

Cassian looked at Kay: he did that a lot. There wasn’t an increase in psychic interference when they communicated this way: it seemed to be mundane codependence.

‘Beskar?’ Cassian asked Din.

‘And professionalism,’ Din quipped.

#ask memes #1 rogue street #2 scarif street

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onthesandsofdreams · 3 years

Text

The Summoning [4/5]

Pairing: Cassian x Jyn Rating: T Summary: Cassian gave her a reassuring smile, “Yes, of course. My kin and I may not be as the rest of the demons, but that doesn’t mean we are defenseless. In fact, you should know that we are never as dangerous as when our mate is in danger.” Words: 1175 Notes: Witches & Demons AU. @mousedetective

Read @ AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

They make their way slowly and casually, she doesn't want to rush and call attention, even if they are under the camouflage spell. She wished she could truly make them invisible.

“I don’t want to alarm you,” Cassian said as they walked the long way back. “But we are still being followed. Either your spell didn’t work or…”

Jyn gritted her teeth, “Or they sent a specialized wizard after me.”

“Indeed.” They both could see the house already. “If you would allow it, I will deal with him.”

She came to a sudden stop, Cassian stopped after she did. She turned to face him, “Can you? Deal with him, I mean.”

Cassian gave her a reassuring smile, “Yes, of course. My kin and I may not be as the rest of the demons, but that doesn’t mean we are defenseless. In fact, you should know that we are never as dangerous as when our mate is in danger.”

“And I qualify as your mate?”

“You did summon me, so yes.”

She looked at the house, then she spotted the man lurking a few feet away. She felt torn, she knew that she simply could not allow him to see her go in, she wanted to add further protections to the house before she and Bodhi moved in. And she could be doing Cassian a disservice if she allowed him to protect her, only to send him back.

She had never depended of a man save when she had been a literal child, much less a demon for protection. But, a traitorous part of her of her wanted Cassian. She had been alone for a long time, Bodhi, sweet as he was, he was only a good friend and could never be what she wanted. For a part that she had tried to bury, she still wanted a family. She wanted to have someone to come home to, someone who would cuddle in bed with her, who’d listen to her rants and keep up with her, someone who would not be intimidated at her power, or independence.

She closed her eyes, and thought of her mother, what would her mother do? She wasn’t sure. Lyra Erso had been a deeply practical witch, one who in the end, believed that things happened for a reason. One who would accept a demon as a partner for her. Specially if said demon was a materada.

She sighed. She would face the consequences later, right now, she could either call attention to the fact that she was a witch or leave Cassian to deal with the man. And she knew that demons were better, much better at illusions than the magical kin.

Closing her eyes, she asked Cassian, “Do you plan to kill him?”

“No, not unless you want me to.”

“No, I don’t want him dead. I want him gone, but not dead.” There was no need for her to say that the only person she really wanted dead was Orson Krennic.

“Very well, wait for me here.”

She watched as Cassian walked towards the man, and watched as the man was instantly on alert and made a motion to run, but Cassian moved faster and grabbed the man by the jacket he wore, leaving him unable to run.

She could not hear what Cassian said, or did because his back was turned to her. But one moment the man was trying to cast something, the next, both hand hanged limply on his side and then Cassian let him go, and the man simply… walked away, with no obvious distress signal. It was as he had simply changed his mind and left.

Cassian returned a moment later, “Taken care of, we should not be bothered now.”

“What did you do?” She arched a brow, curiosity seeping into her tone. “It looked as if you had not done anything.”

Cassian took her hand and pulled her in direction of the house, “It’s an old demonic trick,” there was a smile on his face and it was making him look quite handsome. “I’ll tell you back at the house, I don’t want anyone overhearing.”

Much to her surprise, she didn’t mind being led. When she looked around, she didn’t spot anyone, but it wouldn’t hurt being careful. “Fair.”

It was only after they had crossed the threshold of the house, when Cassian let go of her hand. But he still led her to the living room, removed the covers of the ancient sofa and sat down, letting her to do the same on the place of her choosing. “To answer your question,” he began. “What I did is to put him on a hypnotic trance, which might not sound like a lot, but I’ll remind you that a demonic trance is much stronger than what someone of your kind may be able to, and then, I simply made him forget why he was here and what he had observed. I sent him home, but he won’t remember the past two days the moment he gets home.”

“I’m impressed.” She actually was. And she knew that what Cassian had so easily done, it would have taken a very talented witch or wizard years of practice before they were ready to mess with someone’s mind and memory. It could easily backfire or worst, damage someone’s mind permanently. “Thank you.”

Cassian grinned, but then he grew serious. “Listen Jyn, I know that I might not be what you wanted. I can see you struggling to accept this, and I understand. It would be painful for me – I will not lie to you – to simply leave you behind, but if you really want to, I will leave. Or rather, I’d let you send me back.”

Her breath caught. She had not been expecting that, much less the fact that she felt her stomach drop. How could she want him? She didn’t know him, the ritual had been more of a joke than anything else, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding with her. Hell, he had even protected her from Krennic’s goon.

And now, the thought of sending him away, felt… wrong. Something inside of her rebelled at the idea of loosing another. And that part that resented her father for following Krennic at the expense of her mother, of resenting Saw for eventually leaving too snarled inside of her.

A very selfish part of her hissed, ‘Mine.’ Because he was, she knew all about materadas. It had been something that had always fascinated her and she had studied in the dark and away from prying eyes. And now she had one, and that one was giving her the out she should want.

“Can I,” She managed to get out. “Can I think about it?”

“You have two days. No more than than that, after that, the opening you made to call me here will close and I will stay until you die.”

It was her turn to grow serious. “I understand. You’ll have the answer before that time.”

“Thank you.”

#RebelCaptain #dailyrebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #cassian x jyn #jyn erso #cassian andor #rogue one #rogue one fic #au: witches & wizards #au: demons

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minimatzo · 3 years

Photo

orson krennic, stevie k. evans, danny e. krennic, ike evans: demon-hunting family business

#orson mini #stevie mini #danny mini #ike mini #krennic evans

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fallenrepublick · 4 years

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dum shit the cheg have gotten into part 2

ghost busters- another truth or dare night! too many possibilities... but this one was when krennic dared you to go to a grave yard at like 3 am. so you did but just for shits and giggles you brought some holy water. turns out it was necessary bc some random red skinned zabrak was running straight at you yelling something about revenge and you pulled it out and kind of tossed some on it and he dissolved into air. you noped the fuck outta that one

death by vader- the gi once fucked up s operation to kill a jedi so he asked you if he could stay at your place until he was able to find another jedi. you agreed and vader kinda knew he would go to you so he knocked on your door like at 3 am and since the gi is force sensitive he was able to tell it was vader so he told you to awnser the door and then jumped out your window. confused, you opened the door in your pjs and darth vader was there just like "where is he at" and when you told him you didnt know, he saw that you were telling the truth and told you to report to him if you saw him anywhere

s k y w a l k e r- thrawn had told you stories of a jedi knight by the name of anakin Skywalker. you then heard that vader had a revenge streak on Skywalker. you decided to keep this in mind for the time being... the time finally came to use it when during a meeting, krennic (idk but it seems I would hate him a lot idk) was being s baby bag bitch and so after the meeting you sent a anonymous tip to him of a hiding jedi going by the name Skywalker. he took this info and presented it in front of vader with no prior knowledge of knowing who Skywalker actually was. lmao get fucked

pigeon- once when you were on coruscant, you saw a pigeon that was stuck in your transporter and decided to take it to fuck with everyone. so you brought it in a cage covered by a cloth and when yularen pulled out s gun and was like "I smell a pigeon" you said "bitch you guessed it" and let the pigeon out. turns out nobody liked pigeons so everyone pulled out their own gun and just started to fire while the piegoen flew all around the room. you walked over to a speaker and started to play monsters inc earrape. someone got the bright idea to just open the door and that's how thrawn had to pay for a random office to be covered up for like 3 months so nobody would figure out what happened

this has been a idea by i d e a anon

"What's up demons, it's me... ya boi"

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ajokeformur-ray · 5 years

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Honestly, I'm surprised that you're lacking requests with Seb, Sev and Hannibae 😂 But, if you don't mind me requesting so many times~ Could I get some HCs for the 3 with a fem ace S/O who's a Vet/Healer/Forensics Doctor accordingly~? (Gotta celebrate getting into Vet Uni with a scholarship 😍)💚🐍

I know omg i’m always lacking requests for those three bc they’re normally the first to go xp i’m so so proud of you, dear friend, i hope you know how loved and cherished you are! michael better be spoiling you, or i’m gonna go for him.

Vet - Sebastian Michaelis

Sebastian would forever be bringing you injured kitties.

“My dear, do you have a moment? This little lady said her ankle hurts.” he’d plop the kitty down on your bed and look at you expectantly.

Every time the kitty makes a noise, like a meow, he nods sagely and translates for you.

Sometimes you think he’s just making it up, looking for a reason to show off, and you’d be right.

But when he tells you what’s wrong with the cats, he’s being serious.

He’d be intrigued by the amount of studying and hard work, sleepless nights and the like you had to put up with, and would definitely be very proud of you. He’d be sure to tell you, too.

He would often ask if he could watch you examine, help and check up on any animals that you take in to help, and would ask if you would consider opening a cat shelter.

Someone help him, he needs to have a valid excuse to keep upwards of thirteen kitties in his wardrobe in his bedroom.

Once he runs out of space, he’s using yours; so beware!

As far as celebrations go, he goes all the way. All the way. We’re talking that infamous champagne tower (no knocking it over this time, though), chocolate fountains almost as tall as the ceiling… he goes all out. He’s so, so proud of you and feels some of his hope for humanity come back the more animals you help to heal and rehome.

Dark side of being a vet: when you have to euthanise a beloved pet, he’s there for you afterwards. It might be your job, but you’re only human and humans feel. It’s one of the things he loves the most about you - if demons can, indeed, love.

Healer - Severus Snape

As a Potions Master, his s/o being a Healer is terribly convenient.

You naturally complement each other.

Severus supplies the Potions that you need to use during your sessions with patients, and in turn you make sure that Severus gets feedback on whether his prototype Potions work or not.

More often than not, they work better than expected and it’s a rush to get them patented.

He would love to watch you work. He’d love watching you eye your patients in much the same way as he eyes his potions while they’re in the most critical of brewing stages.

When you find out that you’ve been accepted onto a Healer scholarship, no one is prouder than Severus. Not even you.

He would buy you your absolute favourite type of alcohol if you drink, the highest brand of your favourite treat (sweet or savoury), the latest book you’ve had your eye on… any of the above would he spoil you with, but at night… oh, at night… (next two headcanons are romantic but not sexual)

Arms wrapped tightly around you, lips at your temple. He is more affectionate with you in the nights after the announcement so that he can show you just how much he loves you.

It’s both a reward for your extreme hard work and for himself. Severus needs to show you that though he is often cold at first glance, stiff, he is everything but.

Dark side of your profession - when someone dies. Severus is the first to know and he’s there right with you as soon as all is said and done.

For every one you lose, ten more survive and he’d make sure you focus on that.

Forensics Doctor - Hannibae Lecter

You may not have the same sensitive nose that Hannibal has, but you can practically smell the pride coming off him when you tell him that you’re becoming a forensics doctor.

He already knew, of course, but out of respect for your feelings (it’s only polite, after all), and to see how long it would take you to tell him, Hannibal would wait.

He would use his bountiful connections (and money) to get you to where you want to be as quickly as you can.

By the time he’s finished, you simply think you’ve flown through all the initial stages and that everything was really easy.

It wasn’t. You were shaky in some aspects, because of nerves, but people were too swayed by the money and by his name that they simply let you go through.

You only find out years later, when you are very comfortable in your profession, and you’re so angry it amuses Hannibal.

What’s done is done, however, and you only hope that future promotions are based on merit, not status.

Hannibal would celebrate the news with an extravagant dinner party if you’re one for the attention, or a simple home cooked dinner for the two of you and maybe some friends if you prefer to be out of the light.

You’re ace, and so sex is off the table as far as rewards go, so Hannibal uses food, instead. Chocolate, especially, because it releases the same hormones as having sex does, just in smaller amounts.

As someone who carries out autopsies, you are going to see the absolute worst of humanity, the worst of tragedies. No one is unreachable by Death, who doesn’t discriminate.

Hannibal would hear through the grapevine when you need some extra attention at home because of this ^, and he’d be sure to greet you at the door with open arms and listening ears.

Sebastian Michaelis: @misfitgirl3390 @maelikimichaelis @redheadedkillerprincess @niponmirai02 @artsy-jandi @misfitgirlwrites @tsukuyomi011 @shingeki-no-julchen @smellslikeghosts @daedaliaaan @maltafiir @liecheepaint @lyfadg @funtomimagines @secretlyspookyzombie @ms-allenbrown @sanity-is-overratedxp littlest-phantomganger @the-lady-of-space-and-timeBlack Butler: @theoriginalgodsgirlrachel @ll-kirra-ll @bingewatchingmylifegoby @sky-the-squirrel @miyakokurono @amoureux-de-la-litterature @mamahost @misfitgirlwrites @shamrocklesbian @xiumincancallmebabyanytime @grape-vine @tsukuyomi011 @hagridsbeasts @shingeki-no-julchen @animearmada @daedaliaaan @wolfwithabook @sanity-is-overratedxp @ohokaybyethen @angel12-us @chill-satan-chill @missingaim @my-aestheticdaydreams @lyoly @writings-of-a-gen-z @cryptic-trash-cat @hannibalsslut @boopzytheweebqueenofbritain

Harry Potter: @bingewatchingmylifegoby @sky-the-squirrel @ll-kirra-ll @miyakokurono @hagridsbeasts @shingeki-no-julchen @firenationandrecreation @sanity-is-overratedxp @daedaliaaan @jessie4098 @barefootwitch @ocean-wide-mind @my-aestheticdaydreams @hyoomintypo

Severus: @aluvex @consultingdoctorwholock @o-i-am-a-squid-o @splashytors @obviously-best-potions-master @orson-bigdaddy-krennic

Hannibal: @missingaim @ninja-scenarios @murielthemagicalgirl @rafaelina-casillas @bingewatchingmylifegoby @maelikimichaelis @hannibalsslut @lolacolaempath @thotsaucebitch

#ravenrainy #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis imagine #black butler #black butler imagine #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #severus snape #severus snape imagine #nbc hannibal #nbc hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter imagine

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kylo-ren-has-an-8pack · 5 years

Text

Moodboard Masterlist (NEW)

Moodboard MasterList

Below the cut is a master list of all of my AU and canon moodboards for Star Wars (including sequels and prequels etc), Marvel, Jurassic Park/World, Hotel Artemis, Ready Player One, and various fandoms. There’s a little bit of most all of the characters and ships for the Star Wars sequels and if there isn’t, feel free to inbox me and request some that aren’t. I generally respond very quickly. :)

Star Wars

Kylo Ren + Modern Aesthetic

Rose Tico Aesthetic

Armitage Hux + American Psycho Aesthetic

Rey + Super Powers - Hydrokinesis

Hux + Super Powers - Pyrokinesis

Poe + Super Powers - Flying

Phasma + Super Powers - Diamond State

Phasma + Mermaid Aesthetic

Leia + Huttslayer Aesthetic

Wedge Antilles + Modern

Thrawn Aesthetic

Ships

QuiObi Aesthetic

Han/Lando/Leia OT3

Kylux + Gas Station AU

Kylux + Rockstars AU

Kylux + Great Gatsby

Kylux + Breakup/Blues and Yellows

Kylux + Exes w/Benefits

Kylux + Ashterson AU (Black Mirror/Paterson Crossover)

Kylux + Game of Thrones AU

Kylux + Merman!Hux/MarineBiologist!Ben

Kylux + MTV Catfish AU

Kylux +Warlock/CAOS Aesthetic

Kyluxma (Kylo/Hux/Phasma) + BDSM (semi nsfw)

Phasrey + Dance Protege AU

Phux Aesthetic

Benpoe + Friends w/Benefits AU

Benpoe + Racecar Drivers AU

Benpoe + Childhood Sweethearts Canon

Benpoe + Hollywood/Secret Relationships

Reyux + Canon AU

Reyux + Spy Aesthetic

Lt Mitaka/Captain Opan Aesthetic

Gingerpilot/Krennux + Infidelity

Gingerpilot/Krennux + Infidelity Pt 2

Gingerpilot + College Sweethearts

Gingerpilot + Sex Pollen (nsfw)

Gingerpilot + Hospital

Gingerpilot + Escorts AU (semi nsfw)

Gingerpilot + Loan Shark AU

Gingerpilot + Animal Shelter Volunteers AU

Gingerpilot + Folk Singer Poe/Manager Hux

Gingerpilot + Demon/Angel AU

Gingerpilot + esports AU

Gingerpilot + Punk!Poe/Classical!Hux

Gingerpilot + Robot!Hux/Ex Machina AU

Gingerpilot + Reverse AU General Poe/Resistance Hux

Gingerpilot + Zombie Apocalypse

Gingerpilot + The Greatest Showman AU

GingerStormPilot + Hollywood AU

Stormpilot + Bandmates Dating

Stormpilot + Attack of the Clones AU

Poe/Kaydel Ko Connix + Cute Canon Aesthetic

Amileia + Political Activist/Doctor AU

Amileia Aesthetic

DesertRose + College Roommates

JynLeia + Punk Aesthetic

Finnrose + TV Star AU

Finnlo + Actor/Photographer AU

Finnlo + Rival Models AU

Finnrey + Modern Fluff

Finnrey + Superhero/Spiderverse

Reality Show AU (Reylo/Finnrose/Gingerpilot)

Reylo + International Spy AU

Reylo + Avatar The Last Airbender AU

Reylo + To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AU

Reylo + Office Romance

Rey/Valkyrie (SW/Thor Crossover)

Rey/Valkyrie + Modern Wedding (SW/Thor Crossover)

JediStormPilotMechanic + Canon OT4

Star Wars/Thor Crossover - Poe/Grandmaster AU

Star Wars/Jurassic Park Crossover 1

Star Wars/Jurassic Park Crossover 2

Star Wars/Jurassic Park Crossover 3

Solo/Rogue One

Orson Krennic Aesthetic

Bodhi Rook + Modern Aesthetic

Galen/Krennic (Galennic) + University Professors AU

Galennic + Jealousy

Galennic + Mr and Mrs Smith AU

Jynnic + Modern

Jyn and Galen + Father/Daughter

Darth Director + Choking

Sciencepilot + Modern

SpiritAssassin (Baze/Chirrut) Aesthetic

Han/Lando (Hando) Aesthetic

Marvel/MCU

Loki + Sepia&Green Aesthetic

Thor + Flower Child Aesthetic

Grandmaster Aesthetic

Tony Stark + Past Trauma Aesthetic

Thor & Korg Aesthetic

Scott Lang/Antman Aesthetic

Frostmaster Aesthetic 1

Frostmaster Aesthetic 2

Frostmaster + Sugar Daddy AU

Frostmaster + Colors (semi nsfw)

Frostmaster + Prisoner!Loki

Ironfrost + Avengers!Loki

Ironstrange + Research Scientists AU

Ironstrange + Grief

Ironstrange + Kingsmen AU

Ironstrange + Sherlock AU

Ironstrange Aesthetic

StrangeFrost Aesthetic (Loki/Strange)

Strangefrost + LotR/Middle Earth

Frostcollector (Loki/The Collector) Aesthetic

Star Wars/Thor Crossover - Poe/Grandmaster AU

Hotel Artemis/Thor Crossover - Acapulco/Grandmaster

Hotel Artemis/Avengers Crossover - Nice/Natasha

Rey/Valkyrie (SW/Thor Crossover)

Rey/Valkyrie + Modern Wedding (SW/Thor Crossover)

Captain Marvel Aesthetic

Captain Marvel Aesthetic 2

Carol Danvers Aesthetic

Goose the “Cat” Aesthetic

Hotel Artemis

Acapulco Aesthetic

Crosby Aesthetic

Everest + Medical Aesthetic

Niagara/Wolf King Aesthetic

The Nurse/Jean Thomas Aesthetic

Crosby/Acapulco AU

Crosby/Acapulco + Christmas

Everest/Crosby AU

Orian & Crosby + Father/Son Aesthetic

Orian & Crosby + Werewolf Aesthetic

Acapulco + Vampire Aesthetic

Jurassic Park/Jurassic World

Silverfox!Ian Malcolm Fallen Kingdom Aesthetic

Ian/Ellie/Alan Dinot3

Jurassic Park Series General Aesthetic

Ian Malcolm Aesthetic

Dinot3 Aesthetic 2

Star Wars/Jurassic Park Crossover 1

Star Wars/Jurassic Park Crossover 2

Star Wars/Jurassic Park Crossover 3

Ready Player One

Nolan Sorrento Aesthetic

Nolan x F’nale Aesthetic

Sorrento/Wade + Sugar Daddy AU

Wade Watts Aesthetic

Wade Watts + Neon

Other (Jeff Goldblum Movies)

New Jersey/Perfect Tommy (Buckaroo Banzai)

Jack/Gil (Transylvania 6-5000)

David and Julius Levinson (Independence Day)

Michael Gold (The Big Chill)

CAOS

Sabrina Spellman Aesthetic

Nicholas Scratch Aesthetic

Spellwood Aesthetic

#star wars #caos #mcu #ready player one #jurassic park #hotel artemis #my moodboards #moodboard requests open #jeff goldblum #ben mendelsohn #masterlist

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roxannepolice · 6 years

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What’s in a name? Kylo Ren as a sentient simulacrum

If my cultural sociologist’s heart soared when Ren turned out to be a heroine of postmodern time, Kylo Ben had my brain from the moment his parentage was revealed. Because this – this here, ladies and gentlemen, is a specimen of its own kind – a sentient simulacrum on a quest to destroy its meaning. And doing a terribly good job, judging by what the viewers think. Because he represents another tempting demon of postmodernity – a belief that everything is a matter of agreement and thus, of will and all one has to do is have a will strong enough to subjugate all of reality to its knees. This is nietzschean ubermensch in all his glory of overestimating the power of will and consciousness, things we have become obsessed with believing in. Kylo Ren isn’t a complicated answer to a question what would Anakin’s and Padme’s grandson and Han’s and Leia’s son grow up to be?, he’s a very ready made, willed, chosen answer to a question what would Darth Vader’s grandson be?

Objectively speaking, there’s every stake against Kylo Ben. He killed his father in a story about familial love. He’s in charge of evil empire in a story about fighting evil. He’s hinted at a romance in a story where romances ended in tragedy. But such is a nature of simulation: it laughs in the face of objectivity. It knows every objective symptom and has already found a way to cause it without referring to the core. Hypoerbolically speaking, everything objective can be faked and as such lies within simulation’s power. Simulation is something different from pretending. Pretending can be objectively revealed for what it is. You pretend that you had a good sleep by putting ice cubes and concealer under your eyes, your problems with focus will still be apparent. You simulate a good sleep by drinking enough coffee to seem – and FEEL – awake. And yes, Kylo Ben is totally the type of person who drinks coffee as black as his soul because sleep is for the weak. A simulacrum won’t recognise itself for what it is because it believes itself to be its only meaning. All that matters are the appearances. And it won’t drop the act when it’s not observed, because it’s always acting for itself. If anything, it’s precisesly other eyes that will see the bs. We’re all amazing actors in our own heads. The problem is to be ones for a different audience.

Take the moment he drops his mask during the bridge scene. You’re right to read it as consciously symbolic gesture. But the act isn’t for Han, at least, not only, it’s for him. He doesn’t need the mask to do what he’s about to do. It’s him, Kylo Ren who has already destroyed Han Solo’s weak and foolish son, about to commit another conscious, willful action. He won’t feel remorse.

He does very much feel remorse. There is no one close enough to him in that moment for him to fake it. This is a rebellion, albeit overdue and still passive, of the self against ego’s will, of meaning against simulacrum.The best metaphor of a difference between a meaning and a simulacrum in Star Wars is basically Ben Solo and Kylo Ren. So, should we feel safe that in a story destroying the simulacra bendemption is sure?

I’m not going to sugar coat it for you – it’s not.

In fact, if you’ve ever heard an antibendemption argument that made terrifyingly much sense, there’s a good chance someone who made it has a degree of knowledge about postmodern thought. Because Kylo Ben has been as much of a ready made redemption material as FO has been ready made villains. He’s literally the grandson of the redemption of this saga. And isn’t the hero worship of Skywalkers the best sign that they’re one of the husks that need to burn for the meaning to reemerge? Truthfully, a strong redemption needs an unredeemed counterpart, a Judas in The Second Testament, to really hit home. Yes, the Skywalkers are what created the basic messages of the saga, now let them go away and continue their essence detached from the husks, preferably leaving a strong warning in the last generation. Anakin’s redemption was the original one, now let it be carried by the likes of Galen, Bodhi and, according to some idiots, Finn, not his own bloodline.

There’s just one problem. Anakin’s not redeemed.

Let that sink in.

Anakin’s redemption did not take place

I don’t want to generalize, but I make a solid guess that most people on tumblr who identify with protagonists of the sequels are in their 20s to 30s., so Anakin’s redemption was a cultural given in our lives. Yeah, he’s done some bad things but in the end he loved Luke and died for him, and anyway, he’s shown as a force ghost in the end (anyone still remembering the old Anakin on Endor?), so he’s fine. What a heartwarming story of redemptive power of love! One that we’ve been rewatching whenever world seemed completely wrong, perhaps the story that helped us forgive people who’ve hurt us, one that has given us so much hope...

did not happen.

Arite, let’s have a look at what exactly was Darth Vader forgiven for, back in 1985:

walking into a room full of already dead people

choking one good guy

apparently he killed some jedi including Luke’s dad who knows how long time ago (I mean, to a 5 year old me Luke could have been anywhere from 15 to 35 years old)

being locked up with Leia and some syringed ball? they called it a mind probe later?

passively watching destruction of Alderaan which was aaaaaawesome one moment the planet was there and then pew pew it was gone

uuh... swinging his lightsaber at disappearing Obi-Wan?

piloting one of the TIEs during a military situation

choking some imperial officers, who cares

organising the worst “meet the in-laws” dinner in history

ordering Han to be frozen in carbonite

cutting off Luke’s arm, he gets a new one some 15 minutes later

he’s actually Luke’s dad?!?????

he does nothing in RotJ. nothing. oh, ok, he says “sister” in a creepy manner, it’s your daughter you’re talking about, you creep

So yeah. This is what he had to be narratively forgiven when he saved Luke and got his ass killed in the process. Additionally, the man who appears as a force ghost is around the same age as Obi-Wan, so 60? maybe even 70? Clearly, if he became Luke’s dad around the time he became Darth Vader, he couldn’t have been serving the empire for more than one third of his life and kicked ass with the good guys for the remaining two thirds. I’m so glad he found the absolution he clearly deserved.

And then prequels happened. And we got Anakin killing a whole village of sand people (off screen), slaughtering some 20 children (off screen), expressing desire to make the Empire his own and choking his pregnant wife because he had a bad dream. And this is only his record on the day he turns to the dark side. He’s in his twenties at a time, which means that he has spent half of his life as Darth Vader.

Uhmmmm... no one said anything about killing children back in the 80s, right? But still, we can go with this. Because Anakin’s fall was tailored for his redemption – induced by possessive love for his wife, undone by selfless love for his son, manipulated just enough to be forgiven, terrible just enough for the payment to be his life. And anyway, there’s the whole prophecy thing. Thus originals and prequels form a complete story of Anakin’s fall and redemption. Apparently.

Because then sequels happen! Yahoo! And there was Vader 2.0, wow he can actually freeze blaster bolts in the air, impressive, anyway, can’t wait for the next generation of Skywalkers to appear. UUh, but there’s something wrong. Village isn’t slaughtered off screen, we watch the fire and hear the screams... Oh and then there’s the mind probe scene and mind probe is apparently a painful psychological violation, giving people connotations with rape... Vader 2.0 is this trilogy’s Skywalker?!!!!! Oh, and the destruction of Hosian system is nothing cool, there are terrified people on Couruscant... whaaaaaaaaa, he killed Han Solo, WHYYYYY?!!!!!!!! Oh anyway, maybe he’s adopted, Rey is the one worthy of being saint Anakin’s grandchild.

I think you get the drift. Violence is presented much more realistically in the sequels than either originals or prequels and consequently viewers are willing to see Kylo Ben as more evil than Darth Anakin – even though, appealing to the reason, Anakin has been serving the Empire for two decades which for Kylo to equal he would have to have joined FO when he was 10. But that’s it – we must not underestimate the power of visual representation. Describing something, insinuating it off screen simply doesn’t have the same impact as playing it out before our eyes. Still, after TFA it’s still simple to just say Kylo Ben IS more irredeemable than Darth Anakin.

But then Rouge One happens and Darth Vader shows himself as a goddamn killing machine he has always been, cutting and choking rebels like they’re butter. More, he chokes Krennic into subjugation, which has a completely different vibe to it than his anger/force insult it’s his dad you’re talking about! induced chokes in originals – this here is deliberate abuse of power. And of course, there are all the remaining extended materials showing Vader as an actually evil character – not one we’re told is evil, only actually doing evil things.

So ask yourselves this – if Anakin’s story unfolded itself chronologically and with sequels’ uncensored depiction of war, if we have actually seen the Tuskans burn and scream in agony, if clone wars weren’t softened by villains being droids, watched all the padawans die at Anakin’s hand, then were granted 20 years of abuse of power, watched Leia get “mind raped” by man we knew to be her father, seen terror of Alderaanians, had prequels’ Obi-Wan for our childhood’s hero, force choking wasn’t framed as a pythonic comic relief, knew Vader cut off his son’s arm knowing the pain it gives and discovered that he’s still as power hungry as twenty years earlier – would Anakin’s redemption feel earned at the end? Would it feel real? Would it have that cathartic hopeful power which became franchise’s legacy? Because what, he didn’t let his kid get fried in front of him? He, who burned the world because he dreamt of his wife’s death? Or because he died early enough to not overtake the Empire?

Anakin’s redemption did not take place. Franchise’s message has been a lie all along – or a hypocrisy because why would Anakin and his mighty Skywalker blood grandson get redeemed but Dooku or Maul not? Clearly, Vader has done more evil than these two combined and Kylo Ren is now Palpatine 3.0 showing he was after power all along. Anakin’s force ghost? An illusion for children.

But it’s ok. Lies can give lasting fruits. Growing up is accepting they’re lies and going on with your life.

#star wars #simulacra #kylo ren #ben solo #reylo #anakin skywalker #darth vader

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