#autistic thrawn

[wallflowers-garden]

heir to the empire this. heir to the empire that.

no.

thrawn is standing peacefully in his enclosure, looking at art, wearing noise canceling headphones, and petting his ysalamir named fluffy.

[timeladix]

May the fourth be with you (and may we all forget whatever that second episode was)

(I'm just using this pic of thrawn cuz i love the shot not cuz i loved 'him' in this particular moment NUH UH, but it's actually a decent profile pic of the blue man lol)

[julesdraws]

this was inevitable....

himmmm>>>>>>

this qualifies as face expression practice but color the eyes red and draw some forehead ridges to make them chiss part 2 (part 1)

[autismmydearwatson]

Only he would never master it, she knew. Just as some were tone-deaf to music, Thrawn was tone-deaf to the nuances and intricate self-serving dances that made up the world of politics.

She could only hope that he and his overseers would be astute enough to keep him in the military arena. There, and only there, would he be of genuine and lasting value to the Ascendancy.

HI HELLO IM CRAZY. There is. There is **something** to be said here about the way autistics are only valuable and somewhat accepted if they are useful. There has to be SOMETHING to be seen from how Thrawns enemies (Thurfian) continuously try to take advantage of his political ineptness to burn him down while his allies (Thalias, Ar'alani) SEE it and acknowledge that he needs help in that arena but also know that he'll never fully grasp it. The explicit mirrors to how disabled people are viewed through the eyes of our (speaking as a USAmerican) government. Thrawn and Thrawns mind can only be valuable when he uses his mind to further his country's military goals. Hello Zahn did you know what you were doing??? Were you aware of what you were unleashing when you based your Star Wars Extended Universe antagonist off Sherlock fucking Holmes????? You all see it right????? I'm not crazy right???????? Can anyone hear me???????????

[chissquisitor]

So i’m a big sucker for legends Chiss- only just now getting into canon Chiss lore, any advice?

[timeladix]

Stole the w/o guards image from @reeveskryze

I hope you find this hilarious.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

This definitely won't happen but it would be so fucking funny if they arrive at the planet Thrawn and Ezra were stranded on and it turns out that these two are best friends now and Thrawn is completely on Ezra's side. Morgan Elsbeth pleads for Thrawn to return and reignite the Empire and he's just like "those bitches? Fuck em. Ezzie and I started a band, we play Jizz music on Wednesdays. Here's my wallet pictures of us hanging out."

[toweringclam]

I love it when you meet an alien who's Extremely Autistic and you think, oh, it's just because he's an alien but then you meet the rest of his species and find out no really he's just autistic

[klazje]

star wars: thrawn ascendency: chaos rising more like star wars: thrawn ascendency: autism

[timeladix]

LMFAO OF THIS IS GLORIOUS

I finally have enough stupid Thranto doodles lying around to put this together

[themummersfolly]

Brotherly Art

alt. title: Love Is Stored In the Infodump

This is the first of a three part series on Thrawn's relationship to art. He's such a nerd, I love him so much.

-----

People who meet Thrawn often think he’s quiet. People who know him, at least for any length of time, often wish he was.

Thrass understands the complaint, but he doesn’t share it. When his brother gets onto certain topics, the stiff poise and awkward reserve melt away; his eyes shine with more than bioluminescence, and he lays out his opinions with the enthusiasm of a child and the earnestness of a professor. True, no one else can get a word in edgewise. But Thrass has spent enough time in university to appreciate the free dispersal of knowledge by someone passionate about the topic. And Thrawn rarely looks so alive, let alone happy. Thrass wants to see him happy.

“-but in 68 BCA, you start to see a shift in the assembly technique, as though the makers’ perspective on the physical possibilities of their craft has begun to shift. The history books say they didn’t have any contact with outsiders until at least 50 BCA, but I think we can see from the pottery alone that the date of first contact can be pushed back by almost a decade. It shows up in other artifacts, but it’s most clear here that their whole conception of their place in the universe underwent a seismic shift-” Thrawn looks up from the zoomed-in picture of a potshard on his questis and glances at Thrass. “This isn’t boring, is it?”

Someday, Thrass reflects, he’d like to meet whoever told Thrawn his interests were boring. There’ll be an assault charge, of course, but he’s fairly certain he can talk his way out of the worst of it. “Not at all. I like hearing what you think.” His own questis pings. “Delivery’s almost here.”

“Ok. I have to use the fresher anyway.” A look of urgency crosses Thrawn’s face and he practically vaults the couch on his way. Thrass shakes his head. Trust Thrawn to get so wrapped up in a topic he forgets to pee. Thrass gets up to clear the table for their meal and brings Thrawn’s questis with him. When he sets it down, the jolt causes the screen to switch back on. He blinks. Instead of the potshard, the screen is a solid, alarming blue.

“Thrawn, I think something is wrong with your questis.”

Thrawn emerges from the fresher, still drying his hands. Thrass hands him the device.

“It’s gone all blue. If I broke it, I’ll replace it-”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Thrawn breathes a visible sigh of relief. “That’s just the lock screen.”

“You set your lock screen to The Blue Screen of Death?” In fairness, it’s not the strangest thing his brother’s ever done. Thrawn shakes his head.

“It’s a painting by Cli’ure’akoio, one of her Color Studies. I’ve got downloads of all her older work, this one’s my favorite. Most people just see skin tone when they look at it, but a blue this saturated and even is really difficult to produce outside electronic media. And look how she applied it, it’s hard to tell here but there are no visible brushstrokes. That’s what makes this picture unique: she’s taken something absurdly simple and executed it so perfectly it’s like she’s daring people to say they could do the same thing, openly flexing on her critics-”

And just like that, he’s off on an extended explanation of the experimental paintings of Cli’ure’akoio.

Later, as Thrawn scrolls through his questis looking for a particular painting, Thrass peers over his shoulder. Most people’s image files are full of family members, tookas, or scantily clad individuals they deny any knowledge of; Thrawn’s is full of art downloads.

“Do you have any pictures you took yourself?”

“Oh, certainly.” He pauses on a blurry picture of a stack of duracrete slabs. “I took this at the sculpture festival last year. I usually stick to downloads, though. I don’t take very good pictures.”

Thrass shakes his head. “Have you ever thought about collecting any pieces yourself?”

Thrawn doesn’t look up from scrolling. “I don’t have the room; I live on a light cruiser. Besides, most of these cost more money than I’ll ever see.” There’s a wistfulness in his voice that only someone who knows him well would pick up on. An idea takes root in Thrass’s mind; he files it away for later.

Thrawn’s shore leave is over entirely too soon, in Thrass’s opinion. He hurries to the shuttle station to see him off, careful not to drop the package under his arm.

He spots his brother on the edge of a knot of CEDF personnel, waiting for the shuttle to blackdock. Thrawn stands outside the chattering conversations of his peers, hands behind his back, waiting his turn to contribute to the discussion. He turns when he sees Thrass approaching.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” he says by way of greeting. Thrass envelops him in a hug.

“Had an appointment I had to keep. Besides, I have a going away present I have to give you.”

He takes the package from under his arm and presents it to Thrawn. By now the others have taken note and gathering around to watch.

“Open it.”

Thrawn strips the wrapping away and stares at the transparesteel case. Then he registers its contents and his mouth falls open. “You didn’t-”

“I told her what you said about her Color Studies. She says she’d be honored to have this piece in the hands of someone who can appreciate it.”

One of Thrawn’s peers looks over his shoulder at the painting. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s one of Cli’ure’akoio’s latest series, Studies In Color and Texture.” Thrawn looks like he’s tearing up. “Each tile is done in a different pigment and brush stroke.” He holds the painting in its case as though receiving a holy covenant. “This is for me?”

Thrass nods. “I had it mounted in a protective case. It’ll be as safe as anything on the ship- probably safer.”

Thrawn meets his eyes, a significant effort for him, Thrass knows. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

“It’s a good start to your collection.” A tone clangs over the loudspeakers, announcing the arrival of the shuttle. “There’s no time now. But when you get home, you’ll have to explain the series to me.”

Thrawn won’t be able to wait until his next shore leave, Thrass reflects as he waves goodbye. His next letter is likely to be several densely packed pages, expounding on the technical aspects and deeper meaning of the work of Cli’ure’akoio, fit more for a graduate level art history paper than a casual conversation.

Thrass can’t wait to read it.

[timeladix]

Why get mad at your autism(tm) brain and be so self-critical when you could just say that the "thrawn brain struck again". Would you get mad at him for being an idiot (afectionately)? Nope. Then don't be mad at yourself either.

All hail the thrawn brains that are struggling out there in the wild!! You are heard and you are loved.

[julesdraws]

so this is a rather personal piece... tw for emotional distress

i'm placing the id before the picture (which is under the cut) to let you decide if you want to see it or not

[ID: this is a digital painting of senior captain mitth'raw'nurodo of the chiss expansionary defense fleet. he is kneeling, hunched forward, positioned with his left side to the viewer. his left hand is touching his forehead, his right is circling his torso, grabbing at his belly. his face expression shows panic and terror. his eyes are wide open, unfocused, his mouth opened in a silent scream. tears stream down his face. the background consists of swirling shades of bright red, dark turquoise and black, to create a dramatic effect. the artist's watermark reads: "thedivergentbatch".]

(click for better quality)

he's having a bad day alright... (i've never put my feelings so blatantly into my art before, this was an interesting experience)

[nika6q]

From his family welcome ceremony:

But Thrawn also never seemed to initiate any conversations on his own. Mostly he sat and ate in silence, watching and listening to everything going on around him. Once, Thrass caught him looking at the row of tapestries lining the grand banquet hall, his eyes moving slowly from one to another.

...

For a minute Thrass watched as Thrawn made his way across the reception room floor, weaving past the conversational groups with a grace that contrasted starkly with his less nimble conversational and social skills. The man was definitely an odd doklet.

certified Thrawn Autism Moments

"If I could write all this down, I certainly would." "I know," Ba'kif said, "It would be a lot easier for all of us if you could."

"If there was one thing the man enjoyed, it was chasing down enigmas and working through puzzles."

"The point was that, as usual, Thrawn had seen only the surface situation and completely missed the political subtleties."

"I assumed they were intended to stop nonmilitary personnel. As a cadet, I thought I would be exempt."

"He'd explained his tactics to the board at least twice, and they still didn't believe him. Now, with nothing left for him to say, he had taken refuge in silence."

"Or maybe it was just that space and combat were a more comfortable environment for him than a courtroom filled with officers, regulations, and family politics."

"You brought me to an art gallery." "Of course," he said, giving her a puzzled look, "Where did you think we were going?"

"Whatever spark of insight or genius-- or insanity--"

"And his political shrewdness?" "Poor to nonexistant." "Agreed," Ba'kif said, "He's going to need a steady hand to guide him and prevent him from grabbing the wrong end of the fire stick."

Thrawn gave a little snort. "There's no need to be sarcastic." "Who says that was sarcasm?"

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

redraw of that one calvin and hobbes strip

[savageymir]

Me thirsting over Thrawn to my therapist at every therapy session