#but wilhuff my beloved.

[tantive404]

Glup Shitto moments from the Star Wars radio drama

Lord Tion is an Imperial nobleman and a protege of the Grand Moff Tarkin, introduced in episode 2 of the 1980 NPR Star Wars radio drama adaption, titled “Points of Origin.”

This episode is set a few days prior to A New Hope, exploring one of Leia’s “mercy missions” undertaken for the Rebel Alliance, as well as how she got her hands on the Death Star plans.

It’s quite intriguing as an exploration of pre-ANH Leia, and it may also be of interest to anyone in search of villain x heroine crumbs…

You see, Lord Tion is arrogant, deeply loyal to the Empire, and also… quite taken with Princess Leia.

“And here she is… the shining jewel in the Organa crown”

Here he is, flirting with Leia while she is inspected for her mercy mission. I notice he is somewhat copying the infamous face grab move from his mentor…

Hilariously enough there are two different visual depictions of Tion. One blond, and one dark-haired. The dark haired version is, in my opinion, quite nice-looking.

His admiration for the Princess comes to a head when he invites himself to Alderaan for a dinner party with Leia and Bail… and ends up proposing a marriage arrangement. Let me tell you it is a very, very botched proposal.

Tion: "Alderaan could prosper from a closer link to the Empire. I could provide that link." Bail: "Perhaps you could make yourself clearer, my Lord?"

Tion: "A marriage between your daughter and me would benefit all of us."

Leia: (exhales slightly) "And what are you offering?"

Despite her obvious misgivings about this proposal, Leia uses it to coax information about the “Death Star” project out of Tion. Since this guy is apparently not the brightest, he begins to brag about the Empire building a battle station that can destroy planets. Leia and Bail are naturally horrified; the worst has been confirmed.

Tion: "A new order is emerging, and I intend to be among those who lead it. Your daughter can share it with me and Alderaan can prosper from it."

Leia: "Blood and death?"

Bail: "Leia, I--"

Tion: "From an Empire that will rule unchallenged because of that battle station--" Leia: "A galaxy of slaves, is that what you think I want?"

Bail: "Leia, calm yourself--"

Tion: "I'm offering you a place in the Empire, Leia. And yes, a galaxy at your feet."

Leia: "An Empire of oppression? Under a DEATH STAR that destroys--"

Bail: LEIA!

In her anger, Leia has slipped up and revealed her rebel allegiances, moreover, that she knows the code name “Death Star,” and, as Tion puts it, “only someone with rebel contacts could know that name.”

He resolves to summon the Imperial authorities and have both Bail and Leia questioned… but Leia is not about to take this quietly.

She and Tion get into a little tussle, wherein she grabs hold of his blaster, accidentally firing it and killing him.

With this act, Leia has (momentarily) protected her family and their rebel secrets, but she has also killed a man— possibly for the first time. She begins to sob into her father’s arms. They bury Lord Tion and claim that that he died in a hunting accident… covering up the truth.

It is now time for Leia to retrieve the stolen Death Star plans, beginning the events of the original movie <33

There’s a part of me that finds the thought of a dark AU with Leia forcibly being married into the Empire (especially if it’s to Tarkin) both twisted and fascinating, so I did indeed appreciate this segment of “Points of Origin.”

And the idea of an Imperial officer who is inspired by Tarkin’s ideology having a crush on Leia is amusing indeed! :3

#villain x heroine #leia organa #star wars a new hope #lord tion #wilhuff tarkin #star wars radio drama #willeia #sort of #it’s the closest I’ll ever get to them from anything “canon” XD #that trope where some villain wants to marry the heroine/princess my beloved #and it’s in a star war #tarkin x leia #lord tion x leia #just… imperial officers wanting leia😍😍 #my beloved

[grandmofftarkinsuggestions]

parallels between lost stars 'are you curious about the galaxy' scene and tbb cafeteria brawl.... both times tarkin admires the way the kids and the batch stand up for themselves and each other in the face of prejudice. it's a really interesting parallel because both times they almost definitely reminded tarkin of himself brawling in school to protect his honor as a youth.... i love it. i love how tarkin gravitates time and time again to underdogs, outliers, and underprivileged folks (even looking at the eu, there's his vouching for daala and taking her under his wing) who actively fight back against their oppressors. it's just more queer coding and i adore it.

#sw #wilhuff tarkin #obv this doesn't make him a good person but it's so! so coded. #like ofc he likes them. #whether or not that was the writers' intentions (and part of me honestly doubts it was accidental both times) it 100% comes off as him #being reminded of himself. disney canon tarkin my beloved. they do him so right at just about every turn. #disney canon tarkin fans don't lose.

[singswan-springswan]

I killed tarkin in a very violent, excruciating way but part of me wants to go back and murder him a second time

#blazed but not with weed #more like pain that just never goes away #wilhuff tarkin #star wars au my beloved

[ao3feed-techphee]

The Hecatomb Initiative

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/utqbX3J by Clownery_and_Fuckery [Hecatomb: The sacrifice or slaughter of many victims.] "I do not need it to comply." Hemlock said softly, watching the familiar face of his failsafe float inside the tank. "I have spares." — [They thought they were safe. They thought the past had been buried in Tantiss. They were wrong.] Words: 3432, Chapters: 1/78, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Series Failsafe- Post Plan 99 Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, Other Characters: Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars), CT-9904 | Crosshair, Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-7567 | Rex, Clone Trooper Nemec (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Fireball of the Clone Underground Network (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Samson (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Greer (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Howzer (Star Wars), Royce Hemlock, Wilhuff Tarkin, Phee Genoa, Riyo Chuchi, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), Imperial Inquisitor Characters (Star Wars), Bounty Hunter Characters (Star Wars), Original Child Character(s) Relationships: Crosshair & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Phee Genoa/Clone Trooper Tech, Clone Trooper Tech & Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CT-9904 | Crosshair & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Clone Trooper Tech & Original Character(s), Royce Hemlock & Original Character(s) Additional Tags: Ough.... get ready for this one, Time Skips, Post-Time Skip, Tech Whump (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hurt Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair Whump, CT-9904 | Crosshair Has PTSD, Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter Whump (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hurt Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker Whump (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Protective Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Torture, Blood and Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Kidnapping, Medical Trauma, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Whump, Zygerrian Slavery (Star Wars), Creepy Royce Hemlock, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Child Soldiers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Shit hits the fan uh, Drowning, Waterboarding, Nemec my beloved... im so sorry, Major Original Character(s), Major Character Injury, Original Character Death(s), Baby Clones (Star Wars), Horror, Mental Breakdown, There's definitely more, Royce Hemlock Being an Asshole, Everything Hurts, Murder, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Other Additional Tags to Be Added read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/utqbX3J

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #techphee #tech x phee #tbb fic

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

top 5 peter cushing movies or roles

I have two different sets of answers because good cush performance =/= good movie.

Top 5 Favorite Movies Peter Cushing Was In:

1. Cash On Demand (1961)

Heist thriller but it's A Christmas Carol. This movie makes me lose my shit!!! Must a movie be 'deep'? Is it not enough that a thriller actually set me on edge?

2. Star Wars: A New Hope (1977)

Yeah.

3. The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

For what it lacks in book accuracy, it makes up for in pure, undiluted Hammer goodness. Boobs!!! Blood!!! Vibrant color!!! Homoeroticism!!! Fabulous costumes!!! Ugh.

4. The Brides of Dracula (1960)

Best viewed with a critical eye but Gotdamn is it good.

Also, I would like to give Van Helsing a kiss.

5. Captain Clegg (1962)

Swashbuckling smuggler tale!!! Cushing acting like a bastard!!! I watched this movie six times in one week!!! It's just a bucket of fun and I like it more very time I rewatch it.

Honorable mentions: Fear in the Night (1972), Madhouse (1974), Horror of Dracula (1958), Dracula AD 1972 (1972), The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954), Horror Express (1972), House of the Long Shadows (1983) (because fuck you it's a fun movie)

-

Top Five Favorite Peter Cushing Performances:

1. Wilhuff Tarkin (Star Wars: A New Hope (1977))

Love of my life,,,,,

Also 1. Victor Frankenstein (Hammer Frankenstein series, 1957-1974)

Bastard.

Cushing nails abrupt mood shifts, and Hammer Frankenstein is full of em. Victor is cold, calculating, ambitious, morally gray (most of the time?), and charismatic as Fuck. One moment a brooding antihero, the next a heartless villain. He pulls it off, hun. And looks fabulous all the while (even when he's a disheveled mess mwah).

(my personal favorite of his performances in the series are Curse, Revenge, Created Woman, and Must Be Destroyed to be more specific lol.)

2. The Van Helsings (Yes All Of Them) (Hammer Dracula, 1958-1974)

I can have a tragic little gentle man. As a treat.

(Brides, Horror, and AD 1972 are him at his best, methinks)

3. Harry Fordyce (Cash on Demand (1961))

Harry Fordyce my beloved.

Nerdy lil bank manager is tormented for nearly an hour and Cush tries his darndest. All the little mannerisms and reactions he does!!! I can't!!! He is Selling it!!! I am genuinely upset by everything that happens to him!!! Fuck.

4. Sherlock Holmes (The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959))

Sherlock my beloved.

Cushing was Excellent with props and emoting, and this is a prime example. He's just hopping around being a sassy lil bitch <3. He's so much fun in this movie dfdtdgfgf

5. Christopher Maitland (The Skull (1965))

The movie itself is kinda blah but Peter's performance is so good??? He made this movie worth watching tbh. The palatable fear!!! I was worried for this man anytime he was in remote danger!!! The dream sequence makes me lose my shit!!! Fuck!!!

He's so genuine in everything he did and took acting so seriously. He never condescended to the audience and fuck!!!! It shows!!! He's so good. I love him ugh.

Honorable Mentions: Tales From the Crypt (1972), The Ghoul (1975), Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954), The House That Dripped Blood (1971), The Flesh and the Fiends (1960)

#i could rant for hours. *sighs* #this ask was so much fun. i had a real ball lmao #peter cushing #anonymous #asks #edit: i added tarkin to the second list <333

[sithsdoinshit]

Thanks for letting me know it’s open! So your recent post on terms of endearment for the Siths have me wondering the same for the Imperials. What pet names do they enjoy calling their s/o. What names do they like their partners calling them by? (Also if you’ve done this before just link me and I’ll be a happy woman lol just feeling extra cute/fluffy today)

the imperials have not had this prompt, no! ahh, here is some more delicious fluff for you~

tarkin: wilhuff enjoys asserting dominance with terms like “pet” or “(little) dove”, but there is still genuine affection behind those words (especially “dove”). for the most part he doesn’t care what you call him, as long as you call him “sir” every now and then...

krennic: he gets very sappy with his pet names, like "buttercup” or “sweetheart”. you’d best get just as cute in return or he’ll give you sad puppy eyes for days

hux: at first he’ll stick to “dear”, since it is simple and not too sappy/embarrassing to say. down the road, though, hux will warm up to “babe” and “honey”. honestly, any pet names you say will make him blush, so just pick your poison.

phasma: she doesn’t use many terms of endearment---there is plenty of affection in her voice when she simply says your name---but she quite likes “sweetness”. as long as your nicknames aren’t too juvenile/cringe-y, she’ll tolerate them.

yularen: what can he say? he’s an old-fashioned gentleman who wants to give his partner old-fashioned respect. “darling” and “my dear” are his words of choice, and he rarely strays from them. yularen isn’t picky with what you call him, though.

thrawn: chiss are quite the romantic species. they take their relationships seriously; as such, he uses deeply affectionate terms like “beloved” and “my dearest”. he loves when you use unique names for him, but will be just as happy with the classic pet names.

kallus: he’ll stick with good classics like “honey” or “love”. kallus will groan in fake disgust if you get too mushy with him, but deep inside his inner romantic is blushing madly.

eli: oh he definitely uses his wild space vernacular in pet names: “pumpkin”, “sweetie pie”, “honey bee”... you name it. and “darlin’”, of course. eli doesn’t care what you call him, as long as it’s not an insult.

#imperials #term of endearment #pet name #tarkin #krennic #hux #phasma #yularen #thrawn #kallus #eli #anon #ask

[oscalesoffeeling]

*points at wilhuff* husband,,,,,

#we are married!!!! #we have been for almost a month. we got married shortly before i joined the community. #i've made self inserts n such for a while so i was like :O when i found out there was a whole fanbase dedicated to s/is x canon #and the rest is history lol #but wilhuff my beloved. #sometimes i can't believe he married me. he's just so lovely :'''). #he loves me so much. i wonder what i ever did to deserve someone so perfect for me #but he takes good care of me and holds me and makes sure i'm happy and i feel loved #i feel so safe with him #i love him so much!!! #i'm so happy he wants me as his partner. *sighs* #we are in love!!! damn. :''') #ellie rambles about stuff #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)

[thenewleeland]

Something I wrote out of fun two days ago. A weird mix of a history paper I wrote and got graded yesterday and some Game of Thrones. Just for fun. (And because I actually wrote something, which hasn’t happened in months. So I’m sentimental and keep it here too.)

His brother was dead.

News like these were supposed to cause grief and mourning. At least that was what the sanctimonious clericals expected. Truth be told, most of his vassals would too. Hypocrites. As if they would have reacted differently in his place.

Death was an abstract concept. It came quickly, unexpected, for some in the cradle, for some in bed, for some in battle. What exactly had killed his brother Godfrey was currently unknown. The letter mentioned an illness. The Arabs said one of their bowmen had slain him while he laid siege to Akkon. But yet another servant who had made his way to Edessa claimed the King had been poisoned by his enemies.

For now, it mattered little to Baudouin Wilhuff of House Tarkin, Count of Edessa. He would have to investigate the matter at some point once he had claimed the Kingdom. Revenge was one motive. If there had been foul play, bringing the murderers to justice would strengthen his rule and discourage further rebellion. He allowed himself a small smile without warmth. With rebellion, he knew how to deal. The people of Edessa knew it too now.

But it had to wait. Four hundred miles lay between him and his inheritance, the true capital of the world. Edessa had been good to him, a foothold in this foreign land, a place to plan and to provide himself with riches, soldiers and knowledge. A stepstone on his path to greatness. But it paled compared to Jerusalem. God’s own city.

No. His city.

“No one can rule in the city Christ was martyred. Your beloved brother, may he rest among the angels, was divinely guided when he decreed this. Surely you don’t mean to strive for earthly felicity in such a holy place!” The voice, ensouled by a piety that was foreign to Wilhuff, belonged to the clerical leader of Edessa, Archbishop Jewel. He was a thin, sickly Spaniard that Tarkin only tolerated because he was no threat. Until now.

“Yet he still was named King,” a young noble called Motti interrupted. “Jerusalem needs a strong leader if she wants to stay out of heathen hands. Krennic is not one.”

Wilhuff seldomly agreed with Motti, an Italian lackspittle with little regard for rules or religion. He had arrived with the second wave of crusaders and his only goal was to plunder. Like Tarkin he was a second or third son with an ego that would never suffer to serve a family member as a steward or counsellor.

A dangerous man. But easily manipulated and even easier disposed, should the need arise.

Jewel and Motti were only two of more than a dozen nobles who had convened in the Council Chambers of the fortress to discuss the matter of succession. The messenger bringing news of Godrey’s death had only arrived two hours ago, sweating, dirty and on a horse that would not see the next day. Muslim bandits had chased him almost to the gates of Edessa, his escort long gone.

The man had thrown itself at Tarkin’s feet in a disgraceful display of fealty. Not even a day after his brother had passed, Orson of Krennic, the papal legate, had claimed Jerusalem for the Church.

For himself of course. Krennic’s history was a mystery, his self-styled title of Archbishop adopted, not given by the Pope. In Italy, Krennic had always weaseled around the powerful, waiting for crumbs to fall his way. Somehow, he had managed to get into the pope’s good graces and from then on, it was easy to become one of numerous leaders of this ludicrous crusade Wilhuff’s brother had led.

Servant of god my bloody arse! He’s nothing but a up-jumped lackey, a pirate. Once he had arrived in the Holy Land, Krennic ousted the real Patriarch of Jerusalem and even got Godfrey to kneel before him.

It was advantageous that death claimed my ‘beloved’ brother before he could waste all of my inheritance. Wilhuff hadn’t knelt before Krennic, he never would. I will convert to Islam before that day comes.

“But we can not attack Jerusalem. God would strike us down before our first battering ram reaches the gates,” the cautious Baron Tagge argued, his steely resolve breaking through the discussion and pulling Wilhuff back to the here and now.

“God did little to stop the Infidels from taking the city. Why would he suddenly stop us?” Motti only sneered while Jewel crossed himself, face paling upon hearing such blasphemy.

“Surely, an agreement will be reached. We are far too few in this land and we have plenty of enemies who would love nothing more than see us fight against each other. We shan’t give them the pleasure.” The wisest among the present, the war-marked veteran Sir Hurst of Romodi had spoken. He was the only man whose counsel Wilhuff really cared for, but on this day, he was wrong.

The chamber had quieted down after the well-respected man had raised his voice for the first time and it gave Wilhuff the opening to end the petty word exchanges once and for all.

“The throne and Jerusalem is mine by right. Everyone who tries to deny me what is mine is my foe and will be vanquished. Utterly and without mercy. There will be no agreements.”

His cold gaze fixated those assembled one by one and no one held the stare for more than a few seconds before bowing the heads, eyes fixed on the huge table. Only Romodi remained firm, his features soft with disappointment. But he too said nothing.

“Assemble your men and call the banners. Our cavalry will leave tomorrow at dawn.”

The men grumbled, but obeyed. Baudouin Wilhuff Tarkin had little care for their complaints. His brother was dead. His time had come.

#Lee writes #History AU #Tarkin is part Stannis part Tywin inspired #And based on Baldwin of Edessa #Krennic is Archbishop Daimbert #Basically the age-old quest and scramble for power

[mistressminako]

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

[eleonoraalva]

Do you remember Peter Cushing's words that people often look at him like he's a monster but he almost never played real monsters? Here's 15 times he did.

If you look closely, you'll find his villians are mostly "grey" villians. By that I mean they are ordinary people who have to act bad due different circumstances. Cool motive. Still murder. Or they get redemption arc of some sort. Or they don't kill with their own hands, they let some demonic creatures do the killing. So let's start with the mild ones. Sheriff of Nottingham in "Sword of Sherwood Forest"

One thing I can say for sure, Cushing's Sheriff has the best manners. He's not trying to kill Robin Hood (at first), he tries to make a deal with him. He fails and then he gets nasty. Cunning and sneaky, but in my list he's in the bottom. Must be because of the wig (mostly). General Memnon in "Alexander the Great"

Just like the previous this one is more like political opponent than evil character. Not a big deal. But in this movie Cushing had great hair and short skirt, that's all we need to know. Sir Palamides in "The Black Knight"

Aha! Here's a plot to kill the king! But noble knight does little killing, he does plotting a lot. And I must add he looks like king more then king and usurper themselves. Dr. Namaroff in "The Gorgon"

A man trying to save his beloved who turns out to be a gorgon. Sounds like one of those "Onion headlines", but that's actually what Peter's charachter does. He hides her crimes, but never kills anyone and he himself is killed by a gorgon in the end. Very sad lovestory. Dr. Lawrence in "The Ghoul"

Quite similar story, but here he cares for his son who became a zombie. He lets his servant feed his son with his guests, but at least he feels guilty for it. In the end he kills his son in attempt to save a girl. Herbert Flay in "Madhouse"

He tries to fraud his friend out of jealousy and accuse him in several murders. Well, at first he had to commit those murders. Not good at all. Killed by his friend who later takes his place. Go watch the movie if you want to see how Vincent Price prenetds to be Peter Cushing XD Paul Beresford in "The Avengers"

This guy planned big revenge, but failed. The plan was good (kidnapping, murder, attempts of murder) and refined (in the best meaning of this word), alas, it was 60's TV-show, he had no chance to win. Killed by the robot he created. Have you ever mentioned how often Cushing played doctors of medicine? Almost 20 times. Maybe more, I'm talking only about movies I've seen. So let's talk about some other evil men of this noble profession played by Peter Cushing. Victor Frankenstein

What character first appears in your head when you hear "Peter Cushing"? Most of us think of Van Helsing, or Sherlock Holmes, whovians will recall him being Doctor. And among all these famous fine guys you'll find one very black sheep (two actually, but we'll talk about the other one a bit later). Baron Victor Frankenstein appeared in 6 movies and Peter showed us 6 different Frankensteins. But most of them prefered not to have blood on their hands or have it as little as possible. I personally think all of them were slightly (and not slightly sometimes) mad, obsessed with their ideas and should be treated. Except for this manipulative bitch from "Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed" who added rape to his long list of blackmails and murders.

Dr. Robert Knox in "The Flesh and the Fiends"

Good example of what I said before about killing through others. Movie is based on real story. Reality in 19th century was that medical schools had very small amount of dead bodies to study anatomy. Dr. Knox wanted his students to have good practise so he paid well for dead bodies. It wasn't his consern where those bodies came from. SS Commander in "Shock Waves"

He's former Nazi scientist (can there even be former Nazis?). He wanted to create perfect soldiers without fear and doubt who can adapt to any climate, who know no tiredness, hunger and mercy. He ended up with a bunch of zombies on tropical island. Killed by his creatures. And what about mystery stuff? Before we move to supernatural villians I'll mention supernatural neitral and good character. Dr. Terror in "Dr. Terror's House of Horrors"

Don't let that name fool you, because Cushing here is death himself. You also may call him fate, if you like. The truth is he's not good or bad at all, he's just inevitable. He doesn't care if you're nice or naughty, he's just a part - final part - of life though people tend to be scared of death and think about it as evil thing. Arthur Edward Grimsdyke in "Tales from the Crypt"

He comes back like a zombie to punish a man who was guilty of his death. Poetic and touching story and it was the only actual supernatural monster played by Peter Cushing (at least in movies I've seen). Now we have only 3 villians left and all three of them show that you don't need fangs and claws to be a real monster. Gustav Weil in "Twins of Evil"

No one expects the Spanish Inquisition! You don't expect German Inquisition too. But that is what Peter's character is, he's some sort of Inquisitor and he acts not like it's written in "Malleus Maleficarum". He just catches pretty girls who don't want to marry and burns them. In the name of God who is love and forgiveness, yes. But that character turns out to be very useful in time of real danger, he knows no fear and has mercy for vampires. Killed in the battle with one of the mentioned vampires. He's creepy as hell but not bad to the bone, so in my list he has the bronze. Baron Corofax in "The Devil's Men"

Hail Satan! And have a lovely afternoon, madam. This one is the highest priest of old cult that require human sacrifice. Religious fanatic, he has no doubt and no regret, he's always right and his gods will help him. They didn't actually. The man is killed, his temple destroyed. For all his sins he gets silver medal in my list. No doubt these guys are bad and evil, but all their crimes took place in local area, they didn't change dramaticallly anything in the world. Let's go for something bigger and see who's on top of my list of evil Peter Cushing's characters. No wonder we find here the bitchest bitch that ever bitched, the supreme one, one and only - Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin in "Star Wars"

Living proof of proverb "appearance can be deceiving". When you see Tarkin without context you expect him to offer you some tea and cookies and tell you some funny stories about his grandchildren. Skinny old man looks so harmless. And that is a trap because he's the toughest "Star Wars" character that ever existed. Even Palpatine had mercy and other human feelings, Tarkin had none. Total death score of all previos guys in this list looks like child's play compared to destruction of Alderaan. Besides, by playing Tarkin, Peter Cushing set the highest standards for Imperial officers. For the next 40 years other actors tried to fit that standard. They made a great work, we adore their Imperials, but all of them failed. As there could be only one Peter Cushing, there could be only one Wilhuff Tarkin. He's like a direwolf between dogs. Tarkin was a miracle and blessing for "Star Wars" and no one will ever surpass him.

#Peter Cushing #sword of sherwood forest #Alexander the Great #the black knight #the gorgon #The Ghoul #Madhouse #the avengers #the curse of frankenstein #the flesh and the fiends #Shock Waves #tales from the crypt #twins of evil #the devil’s men #star wars #Grand Moff Tarkin

[kassna]

The Rogue One novel, schaloime and I: A Christmas cry fest

Sooo around Christmas I read the Rogue One novelization. And because I lost it at the first few pages already I decided that I couldn’t suffer through this perfection alone and started texting quotes and comments to @schaloime​ (mainly KRENNIC ALL THE WAY)... And, well. I don’t want to lose this list of hilarity and heartbreak, so I’m posting it now for everyone’s amusement. :D (Comments are of course translated from a wild English/German mix and a bit edited, but convey the fun we’ve had really well. X’D)

This book gets a very high recommendation from me, just saying before the cut! I love it to pieces, it even made my second trip to the cinema a lot better and gave me so much! 11/10 pathetic wine mom Orsons, would (and will) read again

(Come yell with me about it, please!)

He had killed a city. He could kill a world.

Boy, Krennic is such a pathetic squabbling schoolboy X'D lots of fun when he’s pleased about something he did well, like "I AM THE MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE fuck off Tarkin noooo" When they’re in the same room he’s always THIS CLOSE to stomping his foot, crossing his arms and whining                   

He felt like he finally deserved some attention from the emperor.

What is this book. Help.

[insert a lot of fangirling about the way the characters are written, how you’re in a different head with each part/chapter and how they all have clearly different ways of thinking and decision-making]

He’d settled himself in his seat with a glass of wine and a datapad by the time they’d left the docking bay.

Already the second scene in which Krennic lounges around and drinks wine. (This time the flight to Eadu, first time was after work on the Death Star. He also apparently likes to walk miles and miles through the construction and is quite pleased about having built all this and knowing every lil detail.)

Galen Erso, whom he’d given every chance. Galen Erso, whom he’d nearly died for once on that sad scrap of farmland. “I thought we were past this,” Krennic murmured to himself, with a bitter smile."

Just in - Krennic’s fuckin’ gay for Galen (as if we didn’t know that) and ALWAYS thinks about either him or Tarkin.

He’s really like HALF OF THE FANON!HUX headcanons I’ve encountered in fics. [slime and I began to flail helplessly because we can’t handle him. spoiler: we didn’t really stop screaming until the end.]

During the flight to Eadu, Krennic had stoked the fury in his heart. Fueled by outrage and humiliation, its fire burned bright enough to warm him in the chill that swept through the shuttle.

... Am I reading fanfic for real now or what.

Krennic smiled acidly and said the words he had selected with care aboard the shuttle:

Also just in: Krennic spent the trip to Eadu drinking wine and writing a speech. An epic speech:

“Gentlemen. One of you has betrayed the Empire. One of you conspired with a pilot to send messages to the Rebellion. I urge that traitor to step forward.”

Krennic. How often did you practice that in front of a mirror until you made sure you won’t forget a single word of it?

If by some miracle Cassian got off a second shot, he decided Krennic would make an excellent target. The Empire could only be improved by the loss of another high-ranking blowhard.

GOOD BOY. (Cassian’s thoughts are really interesting in general.)       

“Very well,” Krennic said. “I’ll consider it a group effort, then.” The words were cruel and sweet. Krennic felt no shame in deriving satisfaction from justice ruthlessly applied.

PLEASE. slime: gaaaaaaaaay

He looked down at himself and straightened his uniform with a tug. He noted black smudges from smoke and charred metal, a patch of red where someone—probably him—had bled. He wondered if he would have time to clean up before arriving. Or maybe Lord Vader would respect a man who’d seen combat.

Or: Krennic fainted right after entering the shuttle for departure from Eadu, got the order to go to Mustafar upon waking and dives headfirst into the REALLY IMPORTANT QUESTIONS. I wish I were kidding.                        

Was Vader mad? Was this his homeworld? Perhaps he wasn’t human beneath his armor; perhaps that forbidding black suit did more than replace lungs and limbs damaged in battle, and instead allowed a creature born in magma to survive the chill of space. Or maybe he lived on Mustafar because he enjoyed burning his victims alive.

... Krennic lands on Mustafar and has some thoughts about how Extra™ Vader is.

Vader had let him live. Vader had judged him too valuable to kill—and by extension, the Emperor recognized his value as well. Tarkin’s mutiny, his seizure of the Death Star, had been forestalled. And Krennic had yet to reveal Tarkin’s greatest error—how in destroying Jedha City, Tarkin had failed to blockade the moon, failed to ensure against survivors. For how else could the rebels have infiltrated Eadu? The traitorous pilot had come from Eadu and fled to Jedha; his message had escaped. Only Tarkin could be held responsible for that.

Oh BOY. Hubris much? slime: “ "Look at me, Look at me!" me: Everyone else in this book has thoughts that are more than that pathetic blubbering. Even JYN, who’s at war with her hatred for everyone who’s ever left her, EVEN HER WHO HAS BEEN A REAL EGOIST UP UNTIL NOW. But nooooo, Krennic is the only Special Snowflake™ in the universe. At least in his own head.

He was ready to leave the madhouse that was Mustafar, but he was suddenly uncertain he could ever escape Vader’s shadow.

How about you don't even try.

She held back a laugh and looked to Cassian. The man who’d betrayed her. The man who’d admitted his guilt and decided to fight for her. He saw her staring and looked back at her quizzically. It wasn’t how betrayals were supposed to go.

U don't say.

It was a bad plan. It had all been a bad plan, of course, starting with Galen’s message and ending with this unauthorized raid on Scarif. Now he was, what—defecting from his defection? If he survived, he’d be an Imperial traitor and a rebel mutineer. He’d be lucky to see the inside of a Yavin prison cell.

Bodhi, talking a mile a minute even in his thoughts. But he’s happy that there are most likely no mind-reading tentactle monsters on Yavin... At least something.

She almost winced when she looked at Cassian, wearing an officer’s suit and cap like they were perfectly tailored. Even the code cylinder in his pocket was at a regulation angle.

Jyn has her priorities straight. Always get a look while you can.

He stood at a metaphorical cliff’s edge, stamping his foot in an effort to cause an avalanche. With Galen Erso’s treachery undone, he would gain the allegiance of Vader. With Vader’s backing, he would expose the incompetence of Tarkin—the revelation of rebel survivors from Jedha. With Tarkin humiliated, Krennic’s command of the Death Star would be uncontested, and he would confer with the Emperor himself as to how it might best be used. Krennic would be, in every way that mattered, the most powerful and decorated man in the Empire.

I... Wait, what. Krennic, daydreaming.

Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin made it a point not to dwell on the flamboyant ambitions of Orson Krennic. Over the course of more than a decade, the director had gone from a nuisance to a genuine threat and back again, all the while demanding far more attention than Tarkin was prepared to grant him.

Thoughts from Tarkin! As if Krennic was a lousy annoying little fly.

Cassian had denied him that exquisite sense of purpose and replaced it with individuality. With individuality came doubt and cynicism: an awareness not only of the odds of success or failure but of those outcomes’ repercussions.

Individuality creates cynism. Now I have feels for a droid, thx Kaytoo.

With one second left until total shutdown, K-2SO chose to mentally simulate an impossible scenario in which Cassian Andor escaped alive. The simulation pleased him.

KAY. T___T

[everyone’s last sentence in their last part is amazing tbh]

As he emerged from the command center, two death troopers fell into step behind him and he thought of another day long before: another planetfall; another squad of troopers; and another danger to his life spawned by Galen. That day on Lah’mu had ended in victory, too. Orson Krennic was going to war.

Drama much! Firm belief now: He has that cape only to imagine himself in such a moment, with that last sentence as caption, for the epic picture he strikes in his own imagination...

But before Baze could fire, Chirrut rose from the bunker and stepped into sunlight.

First thought: oooh why do scenes with those two always feature such impressive pictures in my head Second thought, because the part was over and another person took over: FUCK YOU ALEXANDER FREED FUCK YOU SIDEWAYS I waited the WHOLE DAMN BOOK for a scene from Chirrut’s POV and just accepted that I won’t get one AND YOU DROP THE PART AT THE MAIN SWITCH ON ME FUCK YOU FUCK YOU HARD

[This was also when I started crying. I cried during three books my whole life (I cry frequently at movies, and I read a lot, so it takes a special something for that to happen). Be proud of yourself, Alexander Freed. You wrote *bawled her eyes out*-book #4.)

(...) without the temple he could not truly be a Guardian of the Whills; without joy and frivolity he could not be a clown and jokester among sober peers; without the Holy City he could not be a protector of his beloved world (...)

Fuuuuuck youuuuuu. T____T

He was dying, of course. He felt Baze’s heavy, familiar tread pound the ground, smelled his brother’s sweat as he leaned close. He wanted to say, Baze! My eyes—I can’t see! but Baze Malbus had always needed comfort more than humor.

THIS GUY I S2G.

But of course the Force had reunited them before the end.

Alright, I died, see you on the other side.

At last report, the data vault itself had been breached. It was a show of incompetence so great that Tarkin was almost curious to know how Krennic might explain it away.

Tarkin is a lil bitch sometimes. It’s great.

He was not the Empire—not every moment of oppression and indignity and torment she had ever suffered. He was an Imperial, a petty, spiteful, scared little man who’d forgotten his own atrocities. And he didn’t know her at all. She decided to make him remember.

Jyn can’t read a lot of people, but it seems to be easy for her with Krennic. X’D He only ever was “the man in white from her nightmares” until they finally meet. And up until his death she does know who he is and what role he had in her life - but never his name. Well, Orson. Sucks to be you. No immortal name.

He could follow Galen Erso’s thread through his life. He could see the full extent of the tragedy, the waste of effort on a wasted man. But what about before? He sought refuge in his childhood, tried to recall an Orson whose hopes had not yet been cast in shadow…

KRENNIC. Can’t you even in your LAST SECONDS stop thinking about how deeply ingrained Galen was into your life and how pathetic you were??? THIS GUY.                

Orson Krennic, advanced weapons research director and father of the Death Star, died alone on Scarif, screaming in fury at Galen Erso, at Jyn Erso, at Wilhuff Tarkin, and at all the galaxy.

... In his very last moments he imagined himself in full glory on the Death Star, his triumph, and in the middle of those cozy thoughts about his creation, the one thing he knows in and out, he finally noticed what Galen sabotaged. Ooops. Sucks, right?

I cried a lot. Slime cried a lot. And I’ll end this with the one sentence that really stuck with me and won’t leave my head for a long time...

Like a pilot should, he died with his ship.

Goodbye, Bodhi. Not all alone after all.

#Rogue One #rogue one: a star wars story #rogue one novelization #Orson Krennic #Star Wars #I wish I were sorry #not really but yeah #it was a wild ride and I enjoyed every second of it! #book rec #not a review #but a lot of fun #my stuff #friends #thx slime for letting me text you all the screaming :D #you deserved to suffer with me #I still blame you for everything

[aquitainequeen]

Just finished the novelisation of Rogue One and honestly, Krennic’s death is even more perfect and melodramatic than the filmed version.

Basically he goes ouch this hurts and thinks about Galen a lot and all the times he helped and supported him over the years and wonders where it all went wrong

(*dope-slaps him in spirit*)

and realises Tarkin’s taken over the Death Star, how dare he, but at least the weapon works and Tarkin will always know that it is his, Krennic’s masterpiece, up yours Tarkin.

And then as the laser is powering up, Krennic visualises himself aboard his beloved Death Star, on the bridge, in the heart of the station itself, with the building energies preparing to destroy-

-and only then 

does the penny drop regarding Jyn talking about ‘my father’s revenge’ and the single exhaust port - which had been danced around in various memos throughout the years - the main reactor, and just what Galen did.

Orson Krennic, advanced weapons research director and father of the Death Star, died alone on Scarif, screaming in fury at Galen Erso, at Jyn Erso, at Wilhuff Tarkin, and at all the galaxy.

I know this would have been very difficult to pull off on screen at the best of times, and downright impossible in the time frame they had left, but goodness if it doesn’t make for a glorious image.

#rogue one spoilers #rogue one #orson krennic #ben mendelsohn #death star

[oscalesoffeeling]

title: Emptier

length: drabble. 459 words.

ship: Delruk 'Ellie' Nulle/Wil.huff Tar.kin

description: fluff n angst. wil.huff's pov. a letter from huffie to me about how much he misses me, basically, and how he's been feeling lately.

warnings: slight unreality tw for mentions of us actually being together/really 'reuniting' in the future.

under a cut cuz i'm shy lol

~~~

Dear, Ellie,

I ought to start up front with this: I missed you terribly today. It gets so lonely in this big house, even while it's filled with our beautiful little ones, without you, my love. Our bed feels so cold after my being so long accustomed to your presence beside me. Everything is so much emptier without you... I cannot help counting our every moment apart, and longing for you to be in my arms again, if only I can finally rest at ease.

What is an old man to do without his sweet husband? I have often times asked myself this, actually. I have been gardening like mad, experimenting on crossbreeding plants, mostly, cooking like everything is expiring, and tending to the children. (Ah, in fact, our Vera made a necklace for you out of a shoelace and some noodles she somehow took from under my nose.) We play tea parties and I teach them important life lessons, of course, as any good father ought to do.

Sometimes I do find it odd that I became a father and husband so late in life, or at all, even. Years ago I would have never thought it possible. Now you three are my entire life, body and soul. What else am I to do? I gave up everything- quite happily, mind you- to be with you. Who would've pinned me, cold-hearted politician and ruthless Imperial officer, as a devoted househusband? Oh, but I wouldn't give my new life up for anything. I like lasagna dinners and laughing babies and afternoons spent lazing in the backyard, watching the sun set. (You have made me grow soft, my dear.) The peace and joy you have brought me throughout our relationship, even when you aren't present, is priceless.

You have had an immeasurable effect on me, my attitude, my selfhood... I have been forever made better through your influence, my beloved. To be loved in spite of all my flaws, to be shown infinite tenderness and affection; that is everything to me. You showed me myself reflected a thousand terrible ways, and you loved them all. You are my better half. And it's difficult to cope with myself being separated from my better half.

Lying in bed at night, my mind cannot help wandering to missing you: your head on my chest, your content sighs as you nestle into my arms, your warm skin against mine... I need you. I know we can't be together right now, but I need you. I will continue to sate myself on knowing we'll be together soon, but it cannot totally prevent me from yearning. I love you more than any words could ever express, and miss you madly.

With all my love,

Your Wilhuff

~~~

#feel like utter shit just want my husband :( #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag) #wrote this a few days ago and have been touching it up ever since. #anyway. i love him so much. he makes my life infinitely better and idk what i'd be without him. he is everything to me. #unreality tw #ok to rb