original art - fanfiction - star wars - hux - syril and dedra
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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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Photo
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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.
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armitage hux - an incomplete playlist
genesis - ruelle
you should see me in a crown - billie eilish
dangerous - royal deluxe
skyfall - Adele
twisted - missio
control - halsey
everybody wants to rule the world - lorde
c'est la vie - weathers
tip toes - half alive
next semester - twenty one pilots
This has been in my drafts for over a year now, so here you go @hux-and-gay . Feel free to take the songs for your playlist because I never finished this one.
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General hux had all the potential to be one of the best written, most complex star wars characters ever because of his backstory, and they threw it away.
I know I write an excessive number of posts about abuse in the Sequel Trilogy, but it is so strange how Brendol Hux’s abuse of his son has gotten progressively more horrific with each new ancillary text while Snoke and Kylo’s abuse of him is presented as comic or deserved or both.
If you compare the two, it seems as though the point being made is that legitimate abuse has nothing to do with power differentials being exploited and everything to do with how old the victim is. We’re supposed to feel sorry for child Armitage, but at some point he becomes General Hux and nothing that happened to him as kid matters anymore. Because obviously no one chooses to be abused as a child, but with age, one just acquires options and agency and looses any kind of vulnerability along with one’s baby fat. Even though Armitage never gets out of the situation he’s put into as a five year old when he’s given charge over Brendol’s child murderer squad, and he’s never shown any alternatives that we know of, we’re supposed to judge General Hux as though all his decisions have been wholly autonomous. He does these horrific things because he lacks empathy with other living things; we know why he’s like that! The connections between his treatment as a child and his motives and personality as an adult are numerous, but apparently we’re not supposed to make them?
Because it would be monstrous to blame a child for being abused, but why wouldn’t we despise and celebrate the death of an adult whose actions and mental health issues result from being abused?
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SO GORGEOUS AAAAGHHH
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I <3 Hux as an intelligent propoagandist. He himself would scoff at someone screaming out zealous and dramatic speeches, but it works on his soldiers. He tailors his narratives very carefully. He knows how to strike on fear, grief, pride, identity. Behind closed doors, especially in Snoke's time, he sometimes doesn't believe in half of what he says, but he knows what rallies his troops.
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i love them your honor
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I've read the script to Duel of the fates, and this is true! It was inspired by the Japanese practice of seppuku (suicide to preserve honor). It was actually a very interesting way to take his character. There is some absolutely beautiful concept art of it:
and if you want the link to the duel of the fates script let me know, and I can send you it. It's definitely worth a read if you're super into the sequel characters. :)
TW: suicide
I saw in the comments of a hux video, something quite interesting. I have no idea where this person got this from and I have not googled it to see if it has any backing, but they said, in the original script of rise of Skywalker, instead of revealing himself as the spy Hux was supposed to witness the fall of the first order, and then kill himself with Mace Windu’s lightsaber. I know a lot of things could be said about that and I have a lot of questions, but… WHY SPECIFICALLY MACE WINDU’S LIGHTSABER????
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Millicent can do whatever she wants
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The man is witty give him that
this image is so funny to me bc i swear to god if anyone else had asked where the pilot was hux would have just been like “dead” but because it’s ren he’s being a little shit and i absolutely love him for it
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Kylo cries.
Hux acts exactly the same as normal.
Here’s another burning question (partially for writing purposes) how do you think Kylo and/or Hux act drunk
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I’ve seen some people say they think Hux doesn’t get sick often but I’m kinda like the opposite I think he’s like perpetually sick so you know it’s bad if he’s ever to sick to do anything
#armitage hux#he’s one of those people who does everything he can to be a germaphobe and not get sick and then gets sick anyway
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I feel like there’s this tendency within the SW fandom to paint Hux as this cold, meticulous, unemotional general who only ever stays on base and gives orders and never, ever gets his hands dirty when in fact that’s the image he WANTS to paint of himself and the reality is that Hux is a lot more hands-on than he really wants to be. Domhnall has confirmed that Hux is “obsessive”, “sleep deprived” and barely holding it together and tbh in my opinion that translates more to a general who rarely sleeps and downs twelve cups of caf a day because he’s double and triple checking every single report that gets filed, who sends himself in disguise on the undercover reconnaissance mission into enemy territory because he doesn’t trust anybody else to do the job properly, who’s done every single training simulation the First Order uses so that he knows each and every single possible sequence of events, who isn’t useless in a hand-to-hand fight, but immediately grabs a blade hidden in his boot and knocks the enemy out with nothing but his thighs wrapped around their neck.
That’s the kind of Hux I imagine.
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