Welcome, I have no consistency and will rant every few hours for weeks about a random topic and then not post for months đ
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Latest Posts by aroayr-shuk - Page 5
I need that scene for the introduction of Thrawn where he's staring out of the viewport on his bridge, in perfect parade rest, the camera pans closer and closer, until we have a portrait profile of his back, and then he abruptly turns his head, side-eyeing the camera with glowing red eyes.
moodboard requests
âȘ grand admiral thrawn for @sadrobotinabowlerhat
THIS LOOKS SO FRICKING GOOOOOOD!
TUKK TALES: The Rescue - A Clone Wars Fan Film | Teaser Trailer
I knew nothing about this and itâs just awesome! What a dedication to a fandom!
Imagine showing Thrawn a piece of your culture or religion, and having him sit down buzzing and eager as you explain its significance.
@rosheendubh I wish I knew how to organize. The best I can do is separate the text into three segments: beginning, middle, conclusion. Than separate those segments into scenes, like you would see in a movie. Then black out while writing because I honestly have no idea how to coherently organize in a way that makes sense outside of my own brain. It's like the guy from Sherlock with the thousands of papers and red string in here.
Imagine Thrawn being cast into the Unknown Regions with Ezra
Imagine Thrawn being found and rescued by the Chiss
Imagine Thrawn being taken back to the Acendancy and his home
Don't imagine Thrawn being taken in front of the Syndicure
Don't imagine them debating whether he should be accepted back into their society or returned to exile
Don't imagine Ba'kif and Ar'alani standing to the side knowing there is nothing they can do
Don't imagine the Syndicure nearly ruling against him
Don't imagine Thrawn standing up and speaking for the first time against them
Don't imagine him shouting at them that he has given his life for the Acendancy
Don't imagine him telling them that though he was ruled by the Empire his actions were for the benefit of the Chiss
Don't imagine Mitth'raw'nuruodo losing his composure
Don't imagine him screaming at his Patriarch
Don't imagine him calling himself a servant of the Chiss
Don't imagine him saying "I only want to come home"
Don't imagine the Syndicure stripping him of his titles
Don't imagine them turning him over to the Mitth
Instead imagine him returning home to his family and being granted a place in the Expansionary Defence Force
When all the imperials are wondering where Thrawn is:
I have so many things to say about Thrawn and Gideon and culture and art and appreciation and imperialism and appropriation and so much else but Iâll leave it at this tonight because my tumble is fucky and I donât know how to phrase it at four am.
They are setting up Gideon to be inherently weaker then Thrawn because Thrawn engages with the cultures he uses to destroy his enemies and Gideon simply takes what looks useful to him. This is really interesting and I canât wait to see how it plays out (Gideon gets fucking schooled)
The Letter
Eli, my dearest friend,
It has been decades since our first meeting, and I feel I must thank you for the years that you have, for lack of better words, put up with my "krayt spit". I do not know if it was fate or merely luck that you were aboard that vessel that found me, though I have never believed in fate and one must not rely on luck, some star shined in my favor that day that it was you, Eli Vanto.
Through the years, you have never wavered. You have remained my closest confidant, and on occasion my savior. Though I am aware that you were bitter about the divert in your life track, your skills would have been throughly wasted as a supply officer. And I am pleased that you came to recognize that as well, in time. I would not have made it this far, neither in the Empire nor even back home to the Ascendancy without your help and guidance. I am a better man for your influence.
You have come far, my friend, look at yourself, a commodore in the Chiss Expansionary Defence Fleet. With many more promotions and honors to come, I have no doubts in you. You have learned much, and have become one of the greatest warriors I know. You are aware of what others are not, and have developed a skill for improvisation. A necessary tool for any commander.
Look after those who remain, instruct them in the ways of a warrior. Continue the work that we started and pass it on when you meet your own demise. Continue to live.
I leave you all that I have, my knowledge. I have added to the journal, utilize it. Do not mourn me, Eli Vanto, I am now with my brother.
May warrior's fortune smile upon you.
- written by Mitth'raw'nuruodo, left to Eli'van'to upon his death
never not thinking about the time thrawn and thrass were at a board game cafe and thrass stopped a robbery by calling the guy âbuddyâ and thrawn decked his accomplices and then the cafe owner gave them free cheese
"Tiny."
Now, and then.
(I drew the first art a year ago, but decided to give it a prequel!)
~~
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!
â You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!
Mossy don't stop drawing them in modern clothing
wtf mossy stop drawing them in modern clothing and start drawing them in their proper attire
"Your song is not yet written, I will serve you until it is."
I'm sorry, love confession who!??
"thrawn has some twisted reasoning as to why heâs back working with the imperial remnant, like he must atone for something or his mission was not completed and the man is bullheaded single minded stubborn and must be stopped because he is incapable of stopping for himself"
Never has a quote been more true.
my contribution to the collective meltdown/copium pile is this:
ezra is actually working with the ascendancy on getting thrawn back from whatever he thinks heâs doing
by ascendancy i mean Eli, Arâalani, Vahânya and maybe Unâhee, with Thalias and Samakro running background support. hell, throw Borika in as well if you want to
Ezra and Thrawn actually learned to respect each other while they were stranded by the space whales
itâs why he hasnât returned to lothal yet
thrawn has some twisted reasoning as to why heâs back working with the imperial remnant, like he must atone for something or his mission was not completed and the man is bullheaded single minded stubborn and must be stopped because he is incapable of stopping for himself
team chiss meets up with team ghost at some point and they exchange ideas sort things out manage to extract thrawn from the remnant and make him finally see the light
the real big bad was rae sloane all along bc that woman deserves to gaslight gatekeep girlboss to her heartâs content in live action as well. live action imperial remnant brass is looking testosterone poisoned currently
thranto is canon and so is ezrahânya and kalluzeb. letâs give sabine a girlfriend too while weâre at it
Hi Thrawn friends (and all spaceship nerds)!
Little reminder:
Port - left
Starboard - right
Zenith - up (away from planet)
Nadir - down (toward planet)
Bonus!
Prograde - west to east (spins in same direction as its orbit)
Retrograde - east to west (spins in opposite direction as its orbit)
Hope this helps someone!
Obsessed with Neil Gaiman's new Tumblr bio
The Wedding
Warnings: long vows (like seriously a lot of vows), wedding, fluff, uses "____" instead of y/n
I used Buddhist vows for some of them, I thought they fit with Chiss culture.
I stand at the crest of the aisle. Long rows of pews line the edges of a path sculpted through the snow. My feet are bare, much to the chargrin of the man standing at the end. Anklets adorn each of my feet, strings of crystals connecting the chain to a ring on my middle toe. A long, a-line skirt reachs to the top of my feet, nearly obscuring the jewelry. It drapes across my hips, falling to the ground in ripples. The white fabric is thick and heavy, lifted with a petticoat, and embroidered with silver vines. Pieces of lace cover the skirt like a layer of snow, and obscuring a small pocket tucked away in the folds.
Above the skirt, a break shows skin, the skirt and bodice are not connected and the gap between the two pieces shows an ornate belly ring, layered with glittering diamonds. The bodice is lace, with silk sleeves that reach to my wrists where a double-ring rests between two fingers on my right hand. It's light and comfortable. And the scalloped neckline shows my collarbone. With each step I take, the dress shimmers as if frost is embedded into it.
Simple silver hoops adorn my ears, diamond studs climb up to my helix, and a chain made of glittering crystals and pearls connects a ring on my nose to the one on my ear. Faint blush tinges my cheeks, though I'm sure most of it is more natural now than makeup. A combination of the cold and the intense eyes of the man in front of me.
A pearl and diamond net wraps around my hair, pulled up safely and secured with half a thousand bobby pins. Resting in my hands is a small bouquet, constructed of various wildflowers collected this morning by the children and bridesmaids.
My feet fall into the soft snow, with each step my breath quickens, my heart starts to race. He stands before me, mere steps away.
His own appearance isn't much different than any other day. His skin a dark cerulean, a start contrast to the white uniform he wears, his rank plaque though absent. The two-piece is fitted to him perfectly, it is reinforced with extra padding for warmth, as well as tall black boots and a cinched belt. He does not wear his gloves today.
Tall and lean, he stands a head taller than me. His stature is intimidating, his broad shoulders squared and his stance proud, his hands clasped infront of him. But his eyes are soft.
They shine brighter than they normally would, red and intense as they gaze into my own, watching every step I take closer to him. The faint pupils are dilated, and I can almost see the anticipation.
He's handsome, and in the winter light of Rentor; ethereal.
When I reach the small dais the groom and Ar'alani stand on, he reaches out a hand to help me across the small step. I take his hand gratefully and swing my skirts behind me. I stand facing him for a moment, before releasing his hand to turn to the officiant and he does as well.
The ceremony would be held in Sy Bisti, so that both of our families could understand, but our vows would be spoken in our native tongues. Ar'alani smiles slightly at the two of us, as an Admiral of the CEDF she is licensed to officiate weddings, and we did not have the time to find another officiant willing to marry a human and a chiss.
"Welcome all who have come to witness the union between this man and woman, ____ and Mitth'raw'nuruodo. Are there any who oppose this wedding?"
The pews filled with only our closest friends and family, gaze up at us, joy kindles in their eyes and none speak against us.
"Very well then, let us commence with the vows." Ar'alani gestures for the two of us, I sink to my knees pillowed by the soft dress, and out of the corner of my eye I watch as Thrawn kneels, we are turned slightly to each other. With a breath Ar'alani begins the long vows,
"Do you Mitth'raw'nuruodo and ____ pledge to help each other to develop your hearts and minds, cultivating compassion, generosity, ethics, patience, enthusiasm, concentration, and wisdom as you age and undergo the various ups and downs of life and to transform them into the path of love, compassion, joy, and equanimity?"
Smiling, on my knees I turn to Thrawn for a moment.
"I do." I whisper and an echo, "Ch'ah k'ir."
"Recognizing that the external conditions in life will not always be smooth and that internally your own minds and emotions will sometimes get stuck in negativity, do you pledge to see all these circumstances as a challenge to help you grow, to open your hearts, to accept yourselves, and each other; and to generate compassion for others who are suffering?"
"I do." "Ch'ah k'ir."
"Understanding that just as we are a mystery to ourselves, each other person is also a mystery to us, do you pledge to seek to understand yourselves, each other, and all living beings, to examine your own minds continually and to regard all the mysteries of life with curiosity and joy?"
"I do." "Ch'ah k'ir."
Ar'alani smiles at us, her hand reaches for my own and holds it up as she asks the questions again, this time directed.
"Will you take this man?"
I turn to look at Thrawn, to find him gazing at me, a kind of intensity to his eyes. I smile slightly before turning back to Ar'alani.
"I will." I say confidently. and turning fully to him I say my portion of the vows, "I will take you as you are, to learn and grow with, to explore and adventure with, to respect you in everything as an equal partner, in the foreknowledge of joy and pain, strength and weariness, direction and doubt, for all the risings and settings of the sun."
Ar'alani nods a small good whispered beneath her breath before she repeats the same question to Thrawn, pointed and direct.
"Ch'ah k'ir." With a nod from Ar'alani, he reaches forward and unclips the chain connecting my ear and nose, he twists it in his hands, before connecting it once again this time to the opposing ear and a small stud. "Bah sea csei Ch'ah cart vim sea csei Ch'ah viz, Ch'ah ch'avsat'cah vah veah vah cart. Ch'ah vun'ur vah veah ch'a ch'etecerci. Ch'ah bun'zan'i to sascasi nah bah to carcun'co sir Ch'ah cart ch'eo ch'acico ch'aah vim ch'eo ch'acico cart ch'eo."
"You may now kiss the bride," she grins and as she cross behind me to give us privacy she whispers "he's yours now."
Ar'alani gestures for us to stand and a small Chiss girl comes running to the front of the aisle who holds a small fan in her hand, she offers it to me and I take it from her hand with a quick "bin'vi" and giggle from the girl. I turn to Thrawn, he has a small smile on his face and his eyes are filled with love.
"Ch'acah." I face Thrawn and with one powerful stride, he closes in on me, I hardly have enough time to click open the fan to cover the kiss.
Thrawn's vows: "With all that I am and all that I have, I accept you as you are. I honor you as a woman, as an equal, and as a warrior. I welcome the uncertainties of the future for I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."
Artistically Done (ft. Grand Admiral Thrawn)
T-shirts available for $16.96 at RedBubble.Â
Art by Casei Solus
yes thrawn is one of the most complex antagonists and baddest big bad in the star wars universe and his return poses the largest threat to the new republic since its formation
but also... thrawn đ„°
the fact that i saw live action thrawn with my own two eyes today and he actually looked good is insane to me
I keep seeing Legends!Thrawn and Canon!Thrawn, with canon being dull and one dimensional, and legends being the only one with complexity. Did I miss the Empire Era and Acendancy books getting decanonized? Do people not know that they're canon? It makes sense if Canon!Thrawn only referring to Rebels. But what about Empire Era books and Acendancy because they're not Legends?
Thrawn: Can I shoot them?
His handlers: Not in public.
thrawn + politics = chaos (reference fully intended)
sooo iâm really making a quotes masterpost of thrawnâs political incompetence arenât i. timothy zahn was like âi need to make sure the reader knows how politically inept thrawn is AT ALL TIMESâ and itâs so delightful that i ainât even mad. (and to be fair, itâs really fucking relatable.)
thanks to the ascendancy novels we know that not only imperial politics are a problem for him, but itâs always been ⊠an issue, even in the ascendancy. so weâre doing this thing full on chronologically, beginning with the memories sections in chaos rising. buckle up kids because itâs going to be a LONG ride.
iâm mostly making this post for reference so feel free to skip to the parts that interest youâthere are headings for every novelâbecause i honestly canât imagine someone wants to read ALL THAT (and thatâs probably not even all of it because iâm sure i missed some moments). sjdgdg enjoy!!!
now updated for lesser evil!!
Keep reading
Live action Thrawn got me kicking my feet, giggling, and twirling my hair wtf
Thrawn Dances
The Mitth are cold, stoic, and calm. They exude power and control, as emotionless as the ice flats of Csilla. They are stark uniforms, and blazing suns. Intense and they demand perfection. They are from the heart of the Acendancy, and often they consider themselves to be it's center. As one of the Nine they groom their young since birth, or adoption, to be the perfect example of what a Chiss should be: powerful, fearless, an unmovable pillar in the storm. And they certainly don't dance. Not unless the occasion permitted a sharp two step, two persons, arms poised to the side, one two three four, one two three four. It was controlled, it was routine.
The Kivu were different. Further from the core, the family hadn't even existed during the days of old. Small and humble, many would overlook the family. Rentor, a backwater planet, incapable of producing anything of cultural significance. Or so the greater families thought. And true, they were small and humble, living their lives away in small farming areas, preferring not to get mixed up in the political slights of the larger families. And to the outside world they would appear just as any other Chiss family might. But they danced.
Oh, they danced. And not the stiff steps of the higher Mitth, no it was light and jovial, underneath their planet's moon, their arms raised above them, swaying with the wind. Necklaces and bracelets of scales rattled on their bodies, and shook as they thumped their bare feet against the ground. Long skirts and dresses flared out as their wearers twirled and jumped. Streaks and flashes of colour, from scarves and hats, jewelry and shoes came from every direction. Men and women, children and adults, all joined in in the dance. Shaking their instruments and rattling their jewels. Each to their own beat, each expressing their own story and song. Each making their own art.
You could learn a lot about someone from watching them make art.
Their dance was embeded in their hearts, even years after being conditioned into the ways of the higher families, it would remain. Small scars on one's ears, lips, nose. One's steps a bit too light, a rhythm to their run, twirling batons with grace, treating the dojo as a dance floor.
Who would say anything if they saw through the cracks in a warships' doors, a young man swaying to his own song?
Quick PSA, if you get one of those "Work scanned, AI use detected" comments on AO3, just mark them as spam.
Some moron apparently built a bot to annoy or prank hundreds of authors.
There is no scanning process, your work doesn't actually resemble AI writing, it's all bullshit. Mark the comment as spam (on AO3, not the email notification you got about the comment!) and don't let it get to you.
The afterlife is very sacred to the Chiss. They live their entire lives in service to the Acendancy with the hope that they will be returned to the snow and ice that made them and return to watch over those who they set on the same path. Their students and prodigies.
Thrawn wouldn't pretend to have believed in the idea that after his death his spirit would be magically transported to land where everyone he had ever loved was, where he could watch his people grow, and be at peace. But he also wouldn't deny that he felt a need to protect the Acendancy and that he felt a deep connection to the cold snowy worlds. If he was a spiritual man he would say his soul longed for them. But Thrawn was never a spiritual man, instead he focused his days on protecting his people, his friends; teaching others so that they could do the same; and bettering himself. And in the final days he focused on making sure that his death wasn't in vain. That it meant something. And that final note didn't fall flat.
Thrawn didn't know what would come of him. An eternity burning as some humans believed, would certainly be torture for the Chiss. Wondering forever and ever on planes of ice alone with his thoughts, he couldn't say he would particularly enjoy that. He hoped for eternal darkness, the kind of rest you only get when you enter a deep dreamless sleep. He didn't expect the stories to be true.
He didn't expect to open his eyes and be greeted by soft white light.
Thrawn sat up, his arms coming to rest beside him, none of the sluggishness he had expected was there. There were no burn marks, no shrapnel, none of the telltale signs of the explosion that had taken his life. Or was it the assassin? The purrgil? He couldn't differentiate one moment of the past from another, it all slammed into one jumbled ball. Compared to the stark calm around him, it felt like a blizzard was tearing through his skull.
He held his head in his hands, rocking back and forth, muttering to himself in his mother's tongue, trying to calm himself with the luxury he so rarely allowed. The blizzard was getting stronger. Where am I? Where was I? Who was I? Who am I? What am I? The storm continued to grow and twist and turn. Wrapping him in it's embrace as he slowly began to sink into the soft snow beneath him. A hand reached out and touched his shoulder, and it all came to a stop. The wind was frozen. And his head was empty, for what seemed the first time ever. Looking up at the one who saved him, the face of a Chiss woman stood above. Some 50 odd years younger than she should have been, her bluish black hair slicked back, and an uncharacteristically soft expression on her face stood Ar'alani.
"Mitth'raw'nuruodo..." she whispered, stroking his shoulder. "Come," she held out her hand for him to take.
And he did.
Rising to his feet with her help, he could feel the years sliding off of him, the age, the horrors, until nothing was left except the man he had been years before. With no worries except for the safety of his family. As he rose, he began to see them around him.
The laughing figure of a woman ran past, followed by a gaggle of young girls.
"Vurika!" She passed by.
Ar'alani pulled him forward, to the feet of a middle aged Chiss. He had crinkles around his eyes, but a smile on his face.
"My boy."
"General Ba'kif," Thrawn whispered, hardly recognizing this version of his commander. The older man smiled and slipped an arm around Thrawn's shoulders.
"No status here, simply Ba'kif," Thrawn smiled, a sense of warmth blossoming in his chest. He began to look around, counting off the faces he recognized. Rik'ardok, Mak'ro, In'daro, Ali'astov, even Urf'ianico. There were non-Chiss there as well, though none that he could make out. He saw a man with brown hair and a crooked smile and began his way, before Ba'kif's hand pulled him back with a small bittersweet smile on his face.
"Wha..."
Ar'alani stepped forward "He's not here yet Raw," She explained before once again taking him in her arms and pulling him forward.
"Where are you taking me?" The two Chiss stayed silent, smiles on the both of their faces as they traveled through the comforting cold, surrounded by the voices of the dead. Then standing before them a stadium, an exact replica of the chamber where so many times he was called to explain his actions to the Aristocra, they stopped. He looked around with confusion, wondering what this was. Before the images began. Eli, Faro, Che'ri, every living prodigy of his sprung to live before them. Living out their dreams, and fulfilling their duties to protect their Acendancy. A smile on his lips, the young Raw turned from the spools of colour only to find another man in front of him, a wry smile on his lips. A grin broke out on his own usually stoic face.
"Hello Thrass."
My entire dash right now:
I looked up "Thrawn/reader" fics on AO3 and what do you mean there are only 252!!? Only 5,874 under "Thrawn." Have I been gaslighting myself into thinking he's more popular than he is? Like I know the Thrawn Fandom is niche but I didn't expect there to be a real possibility of running out of content.