Just Watched The Ahsoka Trailer And I'm Very Nervous For Thrawn’s Character. Disney Is Very Bad About

Real question: how tall are the Chiss to you? 

There are no official heights for like any of the Chiss and that is a shame. Thrawn is roughly 6′4″ we know this because of the great Lars Mikkelsen. I’ve always imagined Thrawn to tower over everyone else. Lanky beanpole when he was a teenager type. Ba’kif is probably right at 6′ and Ar’alani is the same height. Thrass is either in the upper 5′ range or lower 6′. He is definitely not taller than Thrawn, but when they stood side-by-side I always imagined him to only be a few inches shorter. So maybe 6′1″? 6′2″? Thurfian isn’t 6′, about 5′10″ or 5′11″. He’s considered on the shorter side of the average. Zistalmu is taller than him, possibly Thrawn’s height. Thalias is shorter than him. Anywhere from the 5′7″-9″ range. Samakro is right at 5′11″. Kharill is about 6′5″-6″. He’s slightly taller than Thrawn.

But that’s not saying that Thrawn is overly tall, in fact he’s surrounded daily by chiss who are taller than him (personal headcannon that chiss grow to nearly 7′ on average). It just so happens that the people he finds himself with are usually shorter than him. Going to the Empire where everyone is human is a little bit of an adjustment, he feels like he’s a towering over them all. And on average he is half a foot taller than them.

Tbh some of u take romanticized writing way too literally and it is killing ur media literacy.

"Growled?! Like a dog?!?!" No like a human person making a low rumbling groan.

"Fanfiction writers overexagerate words too much." Do you not understand that fanfiction as a culture is deeply rooted in the romance genre? The entire basis of fanfiction was to romanticize Spirk.

Exagerated language is a huge part of romance as a genre. It's necessary to give the exagerated, romanticized feeling. It effectively serves as rose colored glasses. It helps build and maintain sexual tension. It's an incredibly useful tool in creating a visual image for the reader to follow.

Please stop looking at completely normal terminology and curling your lip in disgust. Just because its not the way you would tell that story doesn't mean the story is told wrong.

ziinda, about thrawn: do you trust him?

ar'alani: i absolutely trust him.

ziinda: so he is not some kind of mad man then?

ar'alani:

ar'alani: i absolutely trust him.

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.

I teased this in a comment the other day and I had to write it. Comedy isn't my usual style so we'll see how this goes!

The Meiloorun

Thrawn x gn!reader, established relationship

Warnings: suggestive content, implied NSFW

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At the edge of the galaxy was not where you had expected to find yourself, in some practically unnamed system on an even more undistinguished planet. The fact that it was a binary star system was the most interesting thing about it. But Grand Admiral Thrawn had received word that there was Rebel activity in the area and was dead set on investigating it, and you were a loyal servant of the Empire, furthermore of the Chimaera and you were deeply loyal to its commander. But still, you sighed, why did you have to be chosen for a mission on this planet?

The suns were scorching, blazing trails of heat that were visible to the naked eye, you were sweating, beads dripping off of your neck. Even though you were barely clothed, garbed in a "traditional" scrap that allowed the rare bursts of wind to slip through while the wearer was still, technically speaking, modest.

Why you were chosen for this mission, you had no clue. You weren't a ground trooper, your speciality was numbers, statistics, patterns, that sort of thing. Your presence here wasn't needed here. But who were you to argue with a Grand Admiral? Thrawn had requested your presence and you had answered. Of course you had.

And speaking of the Grand Admiral, he stood beside you now. A sand colored tunic clinging to his own blue skin, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves, his colar bone bare and...you should not be looking at your commanding officer that way, even if he was out of uniform. Even if his biceps flexed like that. NO! Hey, stop it.

It didn't help that you were almost certain that he had positioned himself three steps behind you so that he had a...view.

Every so often when you glanced back, you saw his eyes trained on you. And when you turned away you could feel them burning holes in your back.

As unsettling as his gaze was at times, you couldn't help the warmth that spread through your abdomen. Or the memories of the nights before when he gazed at you with the same intensity. Your body spread out on his berth, his desk, his lap, pinned to the wall like some piece of art. A shudder ran up your spine, and when you turned your head to the side, peaking at him out of the corner of your eye, a smirk was working its way onto his lips. He knew what he did to you. And from the way he was moving the fingers on his ring hand, he was planning on demonstrating his skills some more later on.

No. You're on duty. You mentally told your rational side to shut up, but still turned your head away. And just as well, if you let your mind wonder down that path you would waste the whole day away thinking about your k'ein's'ehn. Your "beloved," or at least that's what Thrawn had told you it meant when he taught you how to say it. From the smirk on his face at the time, and the shock on Admiral Ar'alani's when he had first introduced you as it, you had begun to doubt that that was the true translation. But you liked the way it sounded, it had taken you hours of intruction to perfect the stuttering Cheunh word and you weren't going to let that practice go to waste.

And if you let your mind slip, you may miss a crucial detail in the sand city ahead that could help move this mission along faster, and let you get off of this scorching hell ball.

There wasn't a gate into the city. Not even a guard. There was a large sand and stone wall that surrounded their meager settlement. It wouldn't stop troopers you observed, but would stop, or at least slow down any raiders or wild animals this planet may have.

Stepping into the "city," you were suddenly overwhelmed with a series of sights, smells, and feelings. All around large square buildings made their home, carved out of sand and stone they looked like a part of the landscape themselves. They had small oval windows on the second floors, acting as ventilation shafts, taking in the wind that swept over the large barrols of water that litered the sides of every structure. The roofs of the houses were made simply of mud and loose straw. Along the edges of the road, stalls began to appear, and the smell of various treats began to waft up. The vendors yelling for you to spend a credit. There were too many places for rebels to hide for your liking, an ambush would be easy in this place.

Thrawn's face was calm, his stride still leasurely. But his right hand tapped on his thigh twice, and three unarmored stormstroopers slipped off into side alleys. You eyes narrowed, that gesture wasn't standard. In fact it was...your head snapped up, your eyes to his. Thrawn quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as you glared. He continued to look around, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the area, his gaze lingering on the occasional murals They were light in colour, contructed of tiles and mosaics, faded with time it appeared that no one had redone them in years. Or perhaps just since the last sand storm. You didn't know what he saw in them, but you didn't question as he came to a stop in front of a large scene.

The scene was painted on what appeared to be a coral background, cyan and copper danced in swirling patterns, joined quickly by chiffon and ivory as a woman began to take form, clothed in a robe not unlike mine. Brief sparks of brighter color danced around her head and arms in starbursts. Other than the beauty of it, you could not discern any significance. You turned to move away, but were stopped by a sharp voice.

"One moment, Lieutenant Commander." You came to an abrupt stop, and swung around to face the alien. His right arm was crossed over his midsection, his left hand supporting his chin, as his glowing red eyes inspected the art piece before him, they were alight with a facination that only came to them when he studied art, the satisfaction that appeared when he had deduced a deeper meaning or solved a puzzle.

"Sir?" you stood waiting, your arms folded behind your back, your feet spread to shoulder width, your chin raised, and eyes looking towards him but not directly in his eyes. His own body shifted, his head turning to look at you. A smile graced his lips, the white of his teeth peeking out from the small slit. He gestured to the mural with one arching hand.

"Tell me what you see." It was your turn to quirk an eyebrow, so it was one of those times was it. Thrawn had an unsavory habit of testing your observational skills, and how far he deemed you had progressed since your first meeting. You turned once again to the mural, concentration crowding your face. Your gaze raked the art from corner to corner, but the longer you looked the less you saw, you grimanced.

"I just see a painting, sir." He stared at you for a long moment.

"What do you see in the painting, Commander?" You thought for a moment, your eyes flickering to the mural, sometimes all he wanted was the most obvious thing.

"I see a woman, she's dressed in their traditional garb." He nodded this time, progress at least.

"And below her?" Below her...

"Fields, sir. They appear to be wheat." The smile grew fractionally.

"Correct, but they are not just wheat. It appears that every major crop produced and native to this planet are depicted here." You glaced at the painting again, indeed as you looked closer you could see that the lines and vines differed from one another. But still,

"Sir, I don't see how this is relevant. We should continue on with the mission?" As soon as you suggested it, the smile dropped off of his face. He turned to stare at you with cold eyes. You had been under Thrawn's command for long enough to know not to question his judgement, but you were hot, and sticky, and desperate to get off of this planet as quickly as possible. So maybe you didn't say the best possible thing.

"Perhaps," his eyes flickered to a place far behind you, before resting on your face again. "Or perhaps you will learn to appreciate the insight that artists can provide." He set a quick pace, brushing past your shoulder.

"Come."

Your eyes found those of one of the stormtroopers behind you, his eyes had confusion written in them. He risked a quick shrug and you returned the gesture, before turning to follow the Admiral.

You found him halfway across the courtyard, approaching a vendor with grey skin and a long snout. In front of him, laid out in the wooden stall, was a bundle of meilooruns.

You quickened your pace, to come up beside him, listening as he began to barter with the alien man.

Meilooruns were not native to any of the systems even remotely near the sector. They would have had to be requested by a buyer and imported in. Wait, was that what he had been trying to get at? You cringed again. It was a known fact that the rebel Hera Syndulla had a taste for the exotic fruit. They were used more than once as a symbol of that specific faction of rebels, they were known to go to extreme lengths to acquire one. You grimanced at the memory of what the troops had dubbed the "Lothal Incident." Returning your mind to the present, you surveyed the area, but nothing else seemed out of place. Not at the moment.

Thrawn continued to bicker with the vender, from the rounded syllables, if you had to guess you would say that they were speaking in Meese Caulf. You made a mental note to begin learning the language after Thrawn had finished pounding Sy Bisti into you (litterally). The vendor slammed a meiloorun onto the counter and pointed at you sharply. You took a step back, startled and confused.

Thrawn glanced at you evaluating, and you leaned away from him as well. What was going on?

He made a "calm down" gesture with his hand, and spoke in a flurry of words. The vendor thought for a moment before placing another fruit beside the other, gently this time. Thrawn evaluated the meiloorun before looking pointedly at the other, and then at the vendor with a look that read "do you think I'm stupid?"

With a grumble the vendor replaced the bruised meiloorun with a new one, maybe slightly overripe, but delicious if eaten immediately. Thrawn nodded in approval and swipped the two meilooruns from the counter, and snipping a sharp word at the alien. It laughed and nodded vigourously.

You looked in confusion at the Admiral, he hadn't put foward any form of payment. As you puzzled, you felt a hand grasp your forearm. And Thrawn was handing you over to the vendor.

"Grand Admiral..." The alien roughly jerked you to the ground, and slapped a small chain around your ankle. You jumped up immediately, glaring at the alien. "Thrawn,"

He raised a hand and shushed you.

"Perhaps you'll learn not to disrespect your superiors after a time in slavery." He said it simply and left you gobstopped, your mouth opening and closing as you searched for the words to shout at him. He smiled, and produced a small knife from his pocket. Slicing a small bit of the orange fruit and bringing it to his lips he suckled the colourful juices, before he turned on his heel and began to walk away. He tossed the other meiloorun to one of the troopers, who stared at you with wide eyes before also starting to follow his Admiral. You gritted your teeth.

"Thrawn!" you bastard, you whispered under your breath, "Mitth'raw'nuruodo! Come back here!" he continued to walk away, raising his hand over his shoulder in a short wave, as the vendor laughed above you.

Not long after you heard the sound of blaster fire ringing out all around the square, and form adjoining alleys. A close flyby of the rebel ship the Ghost followed soon after, a squadron of ties on its aft. You bit your lip, and settled in, content to wait there until Thrawn had decided that you had had enough time to apporprietely learn your "lesson."

But he didn't come back.

Not until a few hours later when he sent a scout to retrieve you, and a few more meilooruns. It was implied that the meilooruns were the main mission.

In the midst of your berating that night you couldn't help but notice the mirth dancing in his eyes, as he took your scolding. And as he pulled you ontop of him and onto the bed, how could you not begrudgingly forgive him? Even with the fresh bowl of meilooruns on the bedside table.

You're still mad though. Just making that clear Mitth'raw'nuruodo.

Translations:

k'ein's'ehn: betrothed

Thank you @ele-millennial-weirdo we're nearly the same height!

These are based on headcanon heights, I couldn't decide on who to include!

Tagging: @vibratingbonesbis @thespicypapaya @artificial-people-ai

Size comparison of my blorbos + me. Feel free to jump in~

Echo really was the mom in the group. He went off for a well deserved vacation and the group falls apart. Dads fighting to keep everyone happy. Kids are bickering. Someone stole the car and for some reason shits blowing up!!

I've been imaging this all day...seeing it written out made me cry.

reunions and the unhappy like

“Thalias,” Thrawn rasped, after a while. “Samakro. It’s nice to see you again.”

The shorter Chiss opened her mouth to reply in kind, but her companion was faster.

“Oh, really?” he sniped, lip curling in obvious disdain, sunlight glancing off of his piercings. “I didn’t think we committed enough war crimes for you to feel truly at home here, isn’t that why you fucked off to Lesser space?”

“Samakro!” the shorter Chiss - Thalias - hissed, elbowing her unrepentant companion.

“Can you not give him a break for five minutes? He’s been- crawling about the wilderness, for who knows how long, and-”

“I don’t know, Thalias, did he give the literal war crimes a fucking break at any point over the last few years?”

“I-” Thalias trailed off, biting her lip. “Look, you have a point, but just- lay off for a moment, please.”

“Fine,” Samakro growled. “A moment. Then he gets what’s been coming ever since he decided rampant war crimes were in. Fuck, I knew he was- unorthodox, but this- what he’s done, Thalias? It’s unforgivable. It’s fucking unforgivable.”

“I know,” Thalias said, soft as ever. “But- please. Not now.”

“Fine. But only-” and that was directed at Thrawn, moreso than Thalias- “because you asked. Because, fuck that guy.”

Ezra blinked at Samakro, and glanced back at Thrawn, whose face was as pinched as he’d ever seen it, and he suddenly became acutely aware that Thrawn was- upset?

No, that wasn’t quite right, he was hurting. Who were these two people, this Samakro, this Thalias, that Thrawn held their opinions in such high regard?

Merci beaucoup @vibratingbonesbis ♥️

NPT @al-astakbar @kuza-22-li

thank you so much for the tag @inklore 💕

it's kind of wild to see all of these out and open for me to mark. I always forget that people made fanart for an old fic of mine.

np tags: @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @yanna-banana @siempre-bucky @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @roosterbruiser @sebsxphia @wint3r-h3art

Please i need to know how y'all pronounce Eli Vanto's name, do you pronounce the Eli like Ellie or like E(i)l-'ai' Because if its like the way english google translate says Eli im going to die