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‘looking at you ✴️’

redraw of the drawing from ‘veil’ by kotteri ❤️ had so much fun drawing this :] can’t wait for season 2!!

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STOP no more live-action remakes. We're going the other way now. Animated Casablanca. Animated The Godfather. Animated Oppenheimer. Animated Fight Club.

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This is EXACTLY how he felt in that scene

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please send me inglorious basterds shitposts to draw i need a break from studying 🥺

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He’s had a fabulous day kicking na$i ass

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The Starkiller 🩸

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EEDY KARN IS WALKING BEHIND HER????

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FREAKING OUT over this- this might revive my dead blog

DEDRA MEERO and SYRIL KARN - Andor Season Two trailer

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As a sequels enjoyer, I strive to bring you a blog experience much like the sequels themselves: self-contradictory, poorly-executed, and full of loose ends

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This is highly just my own interpretation, and a bit incomprehensible because tired brain all the time and I'm just having fun here, but -- thinking again about Hux's legacy and how he carries his father's name, like I briefly mentioned in this post. Armitage wants to be remembered, he desperately wants to be recognized and lauded in history for his accomplishments -- but that's a loaded sentiment, because he carries his father's surname. And it will always be more than just a name. Until everyone who knew Brendol and young Armitage is dead, Armitage Hux will always on some level be Brendol Hux's son.

Everything about Brendol and Armitage's parent-child relationship is contradictory. Armitage was an unwanted child, but yet Brendol also refused to let him go, refused to leave him with his mother and refused to abandon him on Arkanis. Brendol hated, rejected, and abused his son but yet viciously molded him towards his own values and ends. Brendol saw him as weak and yet refused to cull him like Brendol had so many others. And I think that's a significant part of why Armitage is so trapped between despising his father, rightfully, but also always subconsciously, obsessively trying to prove himself worthy of his father's hypothetical respect, approval, love -- even, irrationally, after his father is dead. [I really believe that's part of what was going through Armitage's head as he watched Starkiller fire. Like, I've done it. Are you proud of me, father? energy. Which is of course chasing the impossible.] There's both deep shame and deep pride, or want of pride, in Hux's name and legacy.

[On the side: I personally very much reject the idea that Hux was carried by nepotism via his father. Armitage's association with Brendol will always be lose/lose for him. If an officer is partial to Brendol, then they likely legitimize Brendol's abuse and hatred of his son and extend that to Armitage. If they dislike Brendol, since Imperials don't exactly have sympathetic tendencies they likely also dislike his son and believe in the nepotism angle. Further, Brendol's abuse of his son is no secret, which is humiliating for Armitage in this sort of setting. Some officers may tell themselves that nepotism carried Armitage to stroke their own egos, but I believe the reality is that the legacy of Hux's name has done nothing but hinder him every step of the way, something he's had to actively fight against his whole life -- again, contradictingly, as Armitage is yet still always trying to prove himself to his father. If anything, I'm much more wiling to believe nepotism is only a legitimate accusation with Sloane.]

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This is gorgeous.

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who else is simping for Hux in 2025?

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Freaking out over this news I’m getting the popcorn rn

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they should settle their differences through dance battles

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The higher you climb

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FINALLY SOME GOOD FANFIC THAT ISNT SHIP RELATED

ao3 or under the cut

The last minutes Armie spends with his mother before the Imperial remnants invade the small village they live in.

Armie's mother blew the dim light of a small candle out. With all lights having been switched off, they hunched beneath the kitchen table. Aside from the moon, it was dark. Dark and cold. Shivering, he tried to stand up and close the curtains – they never slept with curtains open – but she pulled him back down again.

She had been acting unusually all day. When he had woken, she had been hovering above him, holding his pillow. She only fluffed it in the evenings. When she had made him a sandwich and he asked if she could put strawberries in it, she had been staring at him a long time before returning to cutting bread with the knife held so tight her knuckles had turned white. When he had reached for the new brand of vitamin D pills served alongside his strawberry sandwich, she had stopped him short of taking them, claiming he had gotten enough sun anyway. It had been raining all day.

Upon the sight of her tears, he forgot that she had told him to be quiet.

“Why are you crying, mommy?”

Her shoulders continued to shake. He crawled into her arms, resting his head on her chest. Her heart beat as fast as when she had been running with him along the beach.

He squinted at the night sky. Something looking like a shooting star flew by the window. He wished for his mother to stop being sad.

Suddenly, the darkness vanished from his eyes. The horizon became bright. Thunder roared. It didn’t stop. The thunder got closer.

She tugged at his hand relentlessly and ran outside with him. He couldn’t fathom why. You had to stay inside when lightning occurred. Every child on Arkanis knew that.

“Stop, I’m not so fast!”

She didn’t stop. Armie was confused. He had always won against her when they raced against each other.

They ran in the opposite direction to the beach. They’d sometimes sit and watch the rain join its family in the ocean. Now she ran through the little seaside town to the evergreen forest.

“Mum, I want to go home.”

She didn’t answer but smashed him into a house’s brick wall. He tried to soften the contact with his hands,  but they were no match for her entire weight and one of his fingers snapped backwards. He wanted to cry. This wasn’t a fun game. He didn’t want to stand still like the soldiers in the holo news his mum watched every evening. He wanted to pace around and have fun, but he couldn’t even see anything aside from the outline of the bricks in the dark. He tried to twist away.

“I love you,” she whispered in his hair.

“I want to go home.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She released him from her tight hold and they ran again. Two running crowds neared. Were they playing a game of catch?

As the thunder roared directly above their heads and the light burned bright enough to hurt Armie’s eyes, she threw him to the floor, falling onto him.

She kissed the back of his head.

When he tried to push her off, she flopped to the side easily, this time.

His fingers came away sticky.

Her seafoam eyes had gone dull like the eyes of the little octopus glass figurine that stood on their oven.

“I love you too, mommy,” he said, not wanting to be angry at her anymore.

She kept silent.

“I love you, Mommy,” he said again.

His words didn't reach her.

“Aren’t you going to say you love me?”

She always had. They could go hours saying I love you back and forth because she had always made sure to be the last one to say it.

“Please. Why aren’t you saying anything?”

His voice wavered.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He shook her. Her body was still there, so where had her love for him gone?

“I’m sorry, please don’t leave me, mommy!”

She didn’t comfort him, laying stiffly in a puddle of rain. He tried dragging her out, but it was futile with his shaking hands, so he curled up beside her.

He wrapped an arm around her, but she didn’t hold him back.

An hour could have passed, a second could’ve passed. No matter how much time had passed, it would never be enough when a soldier ripped him away.

“This is the boy General Hux is searching for.”

“You sure?”

“How many other humans with red hair have you seen running around?”

“Running? None. Lying? Well, every good shot,” he huffed. Armie didn’t like that sound.

They tried to heave the desperately squirming boy up onto a speeder.

“Mommy! Help!”

He grasped for his mother’s hand, but it was out of reach.

The loud engine noises startled him and the soldier managed to drag him onto his lap.

They drove faster than Armie could ever hope to run, so when he turned his neck to throw a last glance at his mother, he only saw the darkness of a rainy Arkanisian night.