#chimaera's bridge

[isd-chimaera]

idk who needs to see this but here's the Chimaera aka Thrawn's flagship aka the sexiest ship in the galaxy and beyond

(picture taken from the pdf version of Thrawn Treason)

[ibrokeeverything]

Where are Pyrondi and Hammerly??? Are they alright? Are they safe?

[netmors]

"Welcome to the art club, Karyn..."

Typical day on the bridge of the ISD Chimaera…

[vibratingskull]

Hi! Can I make a request of Thrawn xF!reader with some angst.

They are chiss abroad the chimaera and she feels insecure that Thrawn would rather a chiss partner over her.

reader is very emotional either she she just found out she is pregnant or she has recently given birth.

She tries to avoid showing this to Thrawn but he figures it out.

What's nice when you are in a couple with Thrawn and feeling down is that Thrawn will do everything in his power to lift you up and soothe you 😩😩😩😩 And that's the best truly...

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags: Chiss being haughty, early pregnancy, morning sickness, Thrawn being supportive and loving

You look over your shoulder and feel your heart constrict painfully. 

Thrawn is smiling, speaking Cheuhn with other Chiss.  

He seems so... relaxed and peaceful. In a way you rarely saw in the intimacy of your suite.  

With you, his own wife... 

You try to focus on your console but the notes of his lyrical voice reach your ears and with it his soft chuckle. His eyes gleam brighter to be around his fellows, to be home for some moments before their departure. They seem to exchange some jokes and pleasant words as they all smile tightly. They sometimes look around the bridge, clearly judging the crew with their ruby eyes. 

You do not understand Cheuhn, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand that they are criticizing your works, comparing them to their Chiss standards. Thrawn doesn’t seem to correct them.  

Is he... displeased with all of you? 

Did he only just pretend to be satisfied by his crew but secretly judge everyone, regretting his former navy of Chiss officers and warriors? 

That doesn’t sound like him, but if he is good at something it’s hiding his true thoughts and feelings. Even you have difficulties guessing his true mood some days. 

You wipe a drop of sweat off your temple as you feel nausea rising again... 

Erk. 

You had morning sickness for a month now, and get really tired of it. You swallow with difficulty, trying to chase away the sick feeling. 

The last weeks were pretty turbulent with the Grysk’s threat, you didn’t find the time nor the energy to announce your pregnancy to him... 

 You cannot help but keep giving discreet sideglances at the Chiss group.  

Thrawn is among his people.  

At peace.  

Smiling.  

Visibly satisifed. 

He even playfully pinches the cheek of the young Chiss girl. 

His eyes shine with a new light that you never saw.  

His voice is slightly higher than usual, more light and musical... 

You never saw him like that with anyone. 

Not even you... 

You thought you had access to all his visages but you realize at this instant that he took care to hide some from you. Only revealing them to his compatriots. 

Are you not... Good enough to know all of him? All of his facets? 

Do you not deserve it as his lover and wife? 

Apparently not... 

You gulp, lowering your gaze to your keyboard, the acidic waves of your stomach rising dangerously. You shake your head and type your commands on the screen. The very least you can do right now is perform the best you can at your job to not humiliate the Empire in the eyes of Thrawn’s fellows. 

The Empire... Or yourself. 

“Captain (F/n).” Thrawn calls your name. 

You sigh, gathering your strength before standing up. You approach the Chiss group that looks at you up and down like hungry predators. They are looking for any signs of weakness and flaws, watching if you will stumble and fall in any type of way.  

Anything that would prove that they are the superior species. 

You feel cold sweat rolling down your neck and your vision starts to double slightly. Thrawn turns his head to his compatriots when you reach their vicinity. 

“This is the Chimaera’s Captain, (Y/n) (F/n). A lot of my operations rest on her shoulders.” He explains. 

‘The Chimaera’s Captain’... 

Not ‘my Captain.’ 

Not ‘my wife’... 

‘The Chimaera’s Captain’ 

Plain and simple. 

No bounds, no link to him. 

Is he ashamed of you? Is that why he took care not to associate himself with you in the eyes of the Chiss? 

Did he feel like he failed by marrying you? 

Are you a stain on his Chiss pride? A course’s error in his perfect ascension? Something to be corrected in the future? 

Would he have preferred to wed a Chiss rather than a mere human? 

“Can you show the results of your task, Captain?” Thrawn asks formally, “I prophetized some interesting variables in the Grysk’s route, but I want to be certain.” 

You take your datapad to invoke your data on the screen, scrolling to search for Thrawn’s demanded result.  

“I found some... interesting...” You start before falling silent. 

You slowly blink, feeling the light getting brighter and the acidic waves rising in your esophagus. 

Without any warning, you shove your datapad in Thrawn’s hand and run to the door of the bridge. You only hear some outraged exclamations in Cheuhn as the door closes back behind you. 

You sprint and barge into the first bathroom on your way and throw yourself on your knees before the toilet bowl to vomit your tripes out. 

You gag, shaken by nausea, sweat dripping from your temples, your stomach contracting painfully. You spit and cough, at a loss for air. You pant, holding the bowl with your trembling hands. You fall on your ankles with a sigh, wiping the sweat off your forehead. 

You sniff, wiping a single tear from your cheek. You are tired and tense, you just want a nap or a full good night's sleep. 

That would be nice... 

“Are you feeling better?” Thrawn’s voice rises behind your back making you jump on the spot. 

“Maker!” You curse. 

You immediately flush to not impose such a view or odor on him. You are embarrassed enough like that. You lose your balance in the motion and as you are about to hit the floor you feel Thrawn’s powerful hands grabbing you delicately, preventing you from hurting yourself. 

“Sit, Ch’acah.” He invites softly, “Do not hurt yourself.” 

He helps you sit before wetting a handkerchief to pat your forehead, kneeling before you. 

You cannot look him in the eyes. Your head is low as he presses the wet fabric on the back of your neck to lower your body temperature. 

“What happened, Ch’acah?” He asks gently. 

You sniff, silent. 

His hand comes to hold your chin delicately to force you to look at him, his shiny red eyes investigating yours. 

You gulp. 

“Speak to me. Do not stay alone in your discomfort.” 

“Nothing. Just some nausea, it will pass.” You brush it under the rug, not ready to confront him. 

“You appeared displeased earlier. Is something bothering you?” He continues softly. 

“No.” You lie. 

His hand releases your chin to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin tenderly. 

“I know when you lie to me, Ch’acah.” He simply informs you. 

You bite your lower lips, your throat dry. 

“I... I just never realized how much you missed your people. To the point...” You cannot finish your sentence. 

“To the point?” 

“... Of regretting getting with me.” 

You fidget your fingers with apprehension. 

It was said, no backing down now... 

He blinks, questions flashing in his red eyes before disappearing, replaced by absolute determination. 

“What are you talking about, (Y/n)?” He demands. 

The tone is still soft but more pressing. 

“That you clearly feel more at ease with other Chiss. Which I understand completely!” You assure, “It’s just that... It was clear to me that you would have preferred a Chiss companion rather than a human.” 

“Rather than you?” He clarifies. 

You shrug, pursing your lips. What difference does it make in the end? 

His other hand cup your second cheek as he bores his eyes into yours, commanding your attention. 

“Where does that idea come from? Why do you think I regret marrying you?” He demands again. 

“I never saw you so... Bubbly before. You are so much more relaxed with them than with us. Or with me for that matters.” 

He considers you, an air of slight confusion dancing on his gorgeous face. 

“Cha’cah... How could I ever regret marrying you? You are the best decision of my life.” He finally says, “I never regretted saying ‘yes’ to you.” 

You raise your gaze to meet his, still unsure. 

“I was simply pleased to cross paths with a young girl I met when she was still only 12. Seeing them thrive is so rare and I was pleased to see how far she’s gone.” 

You wipe another single tear. 

“I am sorry Thrawn, I'm just...” And you explode in tears. 

You’re too tired, too tense, too hormonal, too stressed to think straight in this instant. You only wish to sleep for several hours in peace. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...” Thrawn calls in a murmur, “I would never leave you for any possible reason. You are my wife, my partner, my lover, cheo Cha’cah. Dry your tears my sweet, I am with you always.” 

“It’s stupid but when you didn’t introduce me as your wife to them I thought you had enough of me.” You sob, realizing how stupid it might sound. 

“Of course, I did not present you as my wife: You deserve to be known for your accomplishments and hard work, not for any bond you have with me. Do not define yourself by me, you earned your rank of Captain and are worthy to be known as such.” 

“I was afraid you were ashamed of me!” You keep sobbing hard, trying to get back your breath. 

He takes you in his arms, pressing you tight against himself. 

“I am not ashamed of you. Quite the contrary, I feel proud and empowered to have you at my arm. The right to hold your hand and call you mine is the greatest privilege of my life. Please Ch’acah; never doubt it.” 

“I am so sorry!” You cry hard, squeezing him back, “Thrawn I am so sorry!” 

“Do not be. Everything is all right, I am here, with you. I am not going anywhere...” 

You bury your face in his neck, digging your nails into the pristine fabric of his white uniform, inhaling his reassuring and familiar scent. 

“I am so sorry...” You repeat like a litany. 

He cradles you gently, caressing your hair and back with his large comforting hands. 

“I love you Ch’acah. Do not doubt my words, my heart only beats for you.” 

You nod against his neck, slowly calming down. 

He parts from you but holds your cheek again with his warm soft palm. 

“Are you feeling better?” He inquires with a whisper. 

You nod again, sniffing away the last remnant of your tears. 

“Do... Do you mind reintroducing me as both your Captain and wife?” You ask, still a bit on edge. 

It may be childish of you, but you want them to know that you are married together. 

Despite what he said, being married to him is part of your pride. 

“Of course I can, if you truly want it Cha’cah. We can meet them again later, I will be delighted to announce them our union.” He presses his forehead against yours, looking straight into your soul. “Do you feel better?” 

You nod, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. You need to brush your teeth. 

“Maybe take one hour of rest in our suite.” He gently proposes. 

“No.” You shake your head assured, “I am the Chimaera’s Captain, I cannot disappear for so long. I do not want to be treated differently than all my colleagues because I married you.” 

“And it is honorable of you. If you feel better come back on the bridge swiftly but do not hesitate to visit the med bay if symptoms persist, I recall you were already sick the week prior.” He declares raising back on his feet. 

Ah yes... You didn’t reveal to him why you were sick so he got the wrong diagnosis, thinking it was a simple flu, and that you would be on your feet in no time! 

“Thrawn.” You grab him by the sleeve to stop him from leaving, “I have something to tell you.”  

He considers you in silence, judging by your body language and tone if he should start to worry about something. 

“A problem perhaps?” He invastigates. 

“No. A news.” You shake your head with a tight grin, “Good news... at least I hope.” 

He looks at you from all his height. Your hand releases his sleeve to hook his fingers with yours. He properly takes your hand to squeeze it in his large one. 

You admire the contrast between your human skin tone and his deep vibrant blue... 

“I am listening Ch’acah.” He invites. 

You breath deeply, gathering your courage. 

“I am pregnant.” 

He remains perfectly still and silent for a moment. You look at him, your lips pressed together, awaiting his judgment with a beating heart. 

“Is that true?” He finally asks, with a slightly tensed voice, “Is it possible?” 

You nod. 

“I am three months in. That’s why I was sick last week and right now.” 

He pulls on your hand, forcing you to stand up from your sitting position. You just have the time to yelp, you are suddenly squeezed tight in his embrace. His long arms are holding you so tight you have difficulty breathing. You hear his comforting purr starting to resonate in the bathroom. 

“Thank you, (Y/n).” He finally whispers in your ear, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Thank you...” 

You silently hug him back, nuzzling aginst his tall stature with pleasure, feeling your anxiety melt away in his arms. 

“Are you happy?” You ask. 

“Yes. It is marvelous news.” He presses his cheek to yours, “I stopped hoping for a child years ago. But here you are, pregnant with mine. Ch’acah, you have no idea how happy it makes me. You are spoiling me.” 

“You are about to become a father, Thrawn.” You repeat to him, and the more you say it the louder and deeper the purr gets. 

You hug each other in one of those rare moments of intimacy on a warship, feeling like a team again, ready to face anything thrown at you. 

Even those Grysks. 

@bluechiss @Thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil_urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @leo4242564 @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[purringysalamiri]

grand admiral thrawn on the Chimaeras bridge.

i don't usually post canon thrawn but because I have already gone over almost every single thing I could find of legends!thrawn, and am yet to find anything new to post about involving him, I am going to start focusing on canon due to the large amount of content he has.

[syntheticsystem]

looking at me, looking at you

"Commander — Commodore, I mean," his words sounded weakly through a strained smile, "still gettin' used to that." Thrawn scrutinised his features, careful not to betray a concern that only grew at the sight of him. Eli took as much scalding as he could from that scrupulous stare, then forced his own eyes low. They were slightly puffy, Thrawn noticed; sore, with a small mark at the outer edge of the left. Like a burn. His cheeks, too, were streaked with red, making the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose look a shade lighter than usual. The way his hair feel seemed almost purposely tousled to hide as much of himself as he could...

the other night, I finished writing a ~12k oneshot set a few days after thrawn and eli moved onto the chimaera. eli's mood has taken a downturn since his promotion; thrawn is set on uncovering why (and how to help).

as he does, they decorate a room and do a lot of talking. we go in-depth on lysatran culture (from thrawn's art analysis perspective), toss in some hurt/comfort, and it might've ended up being a getting together fic accidentally? here, eli is also portrayed as having a good relationship with his family and lysatra.

if you feel like hanging out with thrawn and eli for a while, then click here to give it a read.

thanks, and credits to littlekhada for the scar eli's got in this (a minor feature of the fic, but I enjoyed using it).

[jedimandalorian]

Ahsoka Episode 6 “Far, Far Away”: The Story, the Symbolism, and the Score

Episode 6 of Ahsoka begins with the sound of distant purrgil calls as Ahsoka and Huyang travel through hyperspace, crossing the void between galaxies. During their discussion of the tales Huyang used to tell the Jedi younglings there is no music.

I loved that Huyang said such an iconic line in this episode, reminding us that this is indeed a fairy tale, a children’s story.

The Title Card for Ahsoka appears, and then the episode title, “Far, far Away.”

We hear ominous music when Sabine is in the brig onboard the Eye of Sion. The window to her cell is shaped like an upside down triangle.

The sinister music continues during the scene with Baylan, Shin, and Morgan on the bridge. Morgan’s Theme (the Nightsister theme) is heard when the Eye of Sion exits hyperspace.

The line “Peridea is a graveyard” reminds us that this is indeed a “descent into the abyss” a stage of the hero’s journey which I have discussed on this blog before. Ominous music plays here.

The characters who are aligned with the dark side are on a quest for more power to dominate others. They have followed the Path to Peridea as a kind of path to perdition as I have mentioned in my previous metas. But Sabine, our heroine, is descending into the Underworld on a more noble quest. She hopes to find her beloved Ezra Bridger, echoing the story of Orpheus, the hero of Greek myth who descends into the Underworld to find his beloved Eurydice.

Morgan’s Theme continues when they board the shuttle and descend to the planet Peridea.

The landscape of J. R. R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth is suggested by the giant statues and the Nightsister fortress, which resembles an evil version of Minas Tirith.

The characters encounter three Nightsisters, analogous to the Three Fates of Greek mythology, the Moirai. (Note the similarities between this word and the name of Ahsoka’s owl, Morai, a creature I predict that we will be seeing again soon.)

The three Fates were the personification of destiny in Greek mythology. The three sisters were known as Clotho (the spinner), Lachesis (the alotter), and Atropos (the unturnable, a metaphor for death). The end credits for this episode name these three Nightsisters as Klothow, Lakesis, and Aktropaw, clearly indicating the intended symbolism of these three characters. As George Lucas said back in the late nineties, “Well, when I did Star Wars I consciously set about to recreate myths and the — and the classic mythological motifs. And I wanted to use those motifs to deal with issues that existed today.” (From billmoyers.com) Lucas’ apprentice, Dave Filoni, has learned this lesson from the master himself.

The music is quieter in this scene, with sounds of low vibrations being heard. Morgan’s Theme continues when Sabine is imprisoned by the Nightsisters’ three orbs, which held her bound within a triangle made of red cords of energy.

Outside of the fortress three wolf-like creatures howl as ominous music plays. Choral music suggesting the mysticism of the fallen Jedi Order is heard as Baylan speaks of Peridea being a realm of “dreams and madness” from old “children’s stories come to life.” Once again, the viewer is reminded that we are being told a fairy tale, a myth. The musical score subtly teases the listener with three notes from Ahsoka’s Ronin theme in this scene.

Sabine is imprisoned inside the Nightsister fortress as the Chimaera arrives with the sound of ominous metallic rumbling. Thrawn’s flagship Star Destroyer was named after the female fire-breathing monster in Greek mythology which was part lion, part goat, and part dragon.

I am no Freudian, but the Chimaera’s open docking bay hovering over the phallic tower of the Nightsister fortress seems to be the most overtly sexual symbolism I have seen in Star Wars in a long time. However, I’m not here to discuss that visual metaphor.

Organ music which anticipates but does not present Thrawn’s theme is heard as the Nighttroopers muster under Enoch’s command. These undead stormtroopers have cracked armor repaired with golden seams suggesting the Japanese art of kintsugi, as well as armor pieces bound with bands of red cloth. They are heard chanting “Thrawn! Thrawn!” as the Grand Admiral makes his dramatic entrance. For me this chant was reminiscent of how the orcs in Return of the King chanted “Grond! Grond!” when using their mighty battering ram against the walls of Minas Tirith. (You can do your own Freudian analysis of that scene. I’m not going there.) What was Grond?

“Grond, also known as the Wolf's Head, was a one hundred-foot long battering ram with a head in the shape of a ravening wolf, used in the arsenal of Sauron in the Third Age. Though named for Grond, Morgoth’s warhammer, it was created in the likeness of the Wolf of Angband, Carcharoth.”—from lotr.fandom.com

Creepy music accompanies the Nighttroopers as they transfer of cargo from the catacombs beneath the fortress. What is inside them? Dead Nightsisters, waiting to be revived by dark magic?

Thumps and low pitched sounds accompany Thrawn’s conversation with Baylan.

Thrawn speaks of Sabine’s desire to be reunited with her long-lost friend. (The word desire is a very intentional word choice, with the connotation that the connection between Sabine and Ezra has potential to be more than just friendship.)

Sabine: I’m sure he’s doing just fine.

Thrawn: You gambled the fate of your galaxy on that belief.

Sabine: You wouldn’t understand.

Thrawn: Perhaps not.

Evil does not understand love and loyalty. (See my previous post about the Path to Peridea.)

Enoch returns Sabine’s weapons to her, and she is provided with provisions and a wolf-like howler for a mount. He tells her to “die well” as she embarks on her “fool’s errand.”

The line about a “fool’s errand” calls to mind this scene from Tolkien’s novel, The Return of the King:

'Tell me,' he said, 'is there any hope? For Frodo, I mean; or at least mostly for Frodo.'

Gandalf put his hand on Pippin's head. 'There never was much hope,' he answered. 'Just a fool's hope, as I have been told…”

“A Fool’s Hope” was also the title of the penultimate episode of Star Wars Rebels final season.

Once again, Thrawn’s theme is only hinted at by the organ music at the end of the scene.

Sabine’s scanner is destroyed during her fight for her life with the red-armored bandits in the wastelands. Her life is saved by her Mandalorian armor and weapons, Ahsoka’s training, and Ezra’s lightsaber in this action sequence.

Baylan and Shin ride out on howlers. Nighttroopers load coffin-like cargo containers onto the Chimaera as uneasy music plays. Thrawn decides to dispatch only two squadrons of Nighttroopers. His disdain for Jedi, light or dark, is apparent: “It matters not whether Wren and Bridger are killed or stranded here. The same can be said for your two mercenaries.” Ominous music plays.

The scene with Sabine and the howler is accompanied by gentle music played upon wooden flutes. Sabine processes her abandonment issues and her complex feelings for Ezra in this scene by taking out her emotions on the howler. “You. You abandoned me. I should have known you are a coward.” She tries to make the howler stop following her, but the loyal animal comes back as soon as she walks away. “Okay. Fine,” she says. “I’ll give you another chance, but you better not bail on me this time.” The gentle flute music continues. A motif of ascending perfect fifths suggests Ezra’s Theme.

The howler stops to drink water and sniffs the air. The thing that Sabine and the audience assumes to be a rock is revealed to be a sentient little hermit-crab-like creature called a Noti. Gentle music plays when Sabine kneels, puts down her blaster, and extends her hand to the creature. The Noti recognizes the Rebel Alliance symbol (an evolution of her own Starbird design) on her pauldron. The creature has a medallion of his own, marked with a similar symbol.

“Do you know Ezra Bridger?” Sabine asks, touching her heart. “He’s my friend.”

Ominous music plays as Baylan and Shin discover the dead bandits. Once again choral music is heard when Baylan reminisces about the Jedi Order.

It is also revealed that the Nightsisters are fleeing from a power that is greater than their own.

Baylan and Shin see the red Bandits in the distance. “The enemy of our enemy is our friend,” says Baylan, “for now.”

Peaceful and noble sounding music is heard when Sabine sees the Noti encampment. She smiles at the mother Noti rocking her baby in a hammock.

With Sabine in the foreground, the camera pans to show a now adult, bearded Ezra Bridger wearing a red robe and leaning against the wall of his home. “I knew I could count on you,” he says as joyful music plays, music which features the piccolo, flute, and other woodwind instruments.

The closed captioning for this episode says that there is captivating music playing when Sabine and Ezra finally embrace. We hear a beautifully orchestrated rendition of Ezra’s Theme on the French horn with a new countermelody in the strings to heighten the emotional impact of this long-awaited scene.

Ezra’s Theme is heard again when he says “Sabine, thanks for coming. I can’t wait to go home.”

When we return to where the Chimaera is docked with the Nightsister fortress, a suggestion of Thrawn’s Theme is heard at a quick tempo suggesting the urgency of the situation that is about to unfold. Ahsoka Tano is coming. “The thread of destiny demands it” is a line that further emphasizes the three Nightsisters playing the role of the three fates. We finally hear Thrawn’s Theme presented in an obvious way as the episode ends.

I have blogged about the magnificent end credits music in previous blog posts, so this time I am going to discuss something different: the alchemical symbolism in Ahsoka.

The central focus of alchemy was to transmute base metals into gold and create the elixir of life, as any aficionado of the lore of the philosopher’s stone knows. The process is a metaphor for the purification and transformation of the human soul to a state of perfection.

Three colors symbolize this process, black, white, and red.

First there is the nigredo (blackening) stage of the alchemist’s work, representing the breaking of the human spirit. This is where both Sabine and Ahsoka are at the beginning of the series.

Second is the albedo (whitening) stage, which involves washing away impurities or vices, and being ready to grow and learn again. This is most clearly illustrated by Ahsoka the Grey’s “death” and transformation into Ahsoka the White.

Third is the rubedo (reddening) stage, which is where we are in the story right now. It represents the purified and awakened spirit reaching its highest and purest form.

“The symbols used in alchemical writing and art to represent this red stage can include blood, a phoenix , a rose, a crowned king, or a figure wearing red clothes.”—Wikipedia.

The color red, of course, is symbolic of Nightsisters and their magic in this series, as well as symbolizing the red thread of fate.

Baylan Skoll’s line about having to “destroy in order to create” is an example of the alchemical concept of “solve et coagula” meaning to separate then join together. Nothing new can be built without destroying the old. Perhaps this is really telling us about the destruction and rebuilding of the Jedi Order.

In the completion of the rubedo stage there must be a union of sulphur and mercury, also known as the wedding of the Red King (the sun) and the White Queen (the moon). Sulphur represents the masculine principle, the soul, and the fire of life. (Remember Ezra’s red robe?) Mercury represents the feminine principle and the mind, flexible and changing. (Sabine is a clever young woman who lives inside her head, sometimes too much. Lately she’s been distracted by her heart.) Mercury also represents a state that can transcend death.

Is the much-discussed Ezra and Sabine hug the union of Sulphur and Mercury? Or should we expect something more than that?

Much has been written about Baylan Skoll and Shin Hati as the mythological wolves who chase the sun and the moon. This episode ends with the pair in pursuit of Ezra (sulphur, the Red King, the sun) and Sabine (mercury, the White Queen, the moon). When Skoll and Hati catch the sun and the moon, Ragnarok begins.

Besides sulphur and mercury, there is another element present at the rubedo stage of alchemical transformation: salt.

Ahsoka the White is coming.

Please reblog and comment on what you think of my musical and literary analysis of this episode of Ahsoka. I am looking forward to reading your replies.

[al-astakbar]

☆ The Gift -- Thrawn x reader ☆

>title ☆ The Gift ☆part 9/?

>summary ☆ As congratulations for his recent promotion to Grand Admiral, Emperor Palpatine gives Thrawn a gift -- a young woman who has been trained as a pleasure companion.

>pairing ☆  Thrawn x reader ☆ word count [1.3k] ☆ warnings for this part ☆ none> series warnings ☆ dubious consent; sexual slavery; concubine/ sex slave AU; will add more warnings as more parts are posted

>series navigation ☆ part 1 ☆ part 2 ☆ part 3 ☆ part 4 ☆ part 5 ☆ part 6 ☆ part 7☆ part 8 ☆ part 9 ☆ part 10

>posted on ao3

author note!! To be very clear, in this story reader is a concubine against her will and is gifted to Thrawn, but there is at no point any noncon between Thrawn and reader. Reader is never noncon with anyone, either referenced or explicitly, and there is never any explicit noncon. However, this is a darker take on Thrawn and he doesn't really have many hangups about putting his gift to use...

The chance comes much sooner than you think. 

Two days later, you come awake, slowly, to flashes of green. Annoyed— it’s much too early-- you pull the covers over your head but then a howling alarm starts. 

That does it. You sit up, suddenly and unwillingly wide awake. Out the viewport, the Chimaera’s turbolaser batteries unleash a bright salvo of green against a swarm of starfighters. 

The chrono on the nightstand marks 04:12. 

One of the fighters peels off, making a run straight for the Chimaera’s superstructure-- you freeze, transfixed-- it looks like it’s coming right at you, like it’s going to suicide into the bridge just a few levels above-- but a bolt catches it and it disintegrates in a fireball, leaving metal shards drifting in the void and fizzling blue-silver against the shields.. 

You take a shaky breath, and force yourself to move. You dress quickly, panicked, your eyes still bleary. Your only thought is to find Thrawn. 

He’s in his office, shrugging on his tunic as he gives clipped orders into his comm link. “— yes, Commodore, and aim to disable and capture one, if possible. I’m on my way now.” 

“What’s going on?” You ask. He’s already striding toward the hatch, pressing down the sealing strip of his tunic. “Are we— is the ship under attack?”

He picks up his service belt from where it’s draped over the back of the armchair, buckles it on. He glances out the viewport, in answer to your question. Obviously. “Remain here. I do not expect this to take long.” 

More flashes of turbolaser fire, and more fighters breaking off to attempt to strafe the Chimaera’s weak points-- the shield generators, probably. 

“But I--” He turns away, but you reach out and grab his arm. He looks at you, then at your hand, then back at you. You yank your hand away, gripping it to your chest. “Sorry. But I can’t--” The idea of being shut in here alone makes your stomach turn. 

Suddenly there’s a blast-- you flinch-- and another one, heavier, powerful enough to make everything in the room shake and the lights flicker. “Please, I don’t want to stay here.” 

He takes in your wide eyes, your trembling hands that you’re trying to hold steady. He nods, his expression and tone severe. “Come, then. And do not fall behind.”

His personal squad of death troopers fall in step once you reach the main passageway. You follow closely, as that’s the only way to assure you aren’t getting in anyone’s way. Crew members hurry past in both directions, though they all step aside for the Grand Admiral. 

On the bridge, the crew are already working to repel the attack, calling out sensor readings and positions. Thrawn’s arrival seems to ease the tension, just a bit, to reassure everyone that the situation is well in hand. 

You’re grateful he agreed to your request. His calm in the face of chaos is unfaltering, and you feel safe just watching him as he strides down the command walkway, posture impeccably straight. 

“Report, Commodore.”

Faro’s bearing is unmatched, even as her eyes flick to you, who shouldn’t be here. “Twenty TIEs scrambled so far, sir. We mark--” she looks down to someone in the crew pits to confirm. 

“Two hundred and forty-three.”

“--now two hundred and forty-three hostile ships of unknown origin.”

“And the fighter screen?” 

“They were out of position when we were ambushed, sir. I apologize--”

Thrawn holds up his hand. “It is irrelevant now. Have them hold position. Do not launch any more fighters until my signal.” 

As usual, you stay back, well out of the way, and once Ronan arrives on the bridge, he comes to stand near you.

“Your first taste of space combat, I take it?” He says lightly, as if trying to sound unbothered. But he keeps shifting on his feet and fiddling with the hem of his cape.

“Yes,” you lie. Because it’s easier not to have to explain. 

“Well, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Just then, an out of control fighter spirals across the Chimaera’s starboard side, and just before it impacts, a pair of TIEs sweep in, blowing it to pieces. 

You’re close enough to the airwing control station to hear their comms chatter-- “splash one!” “we got him” “coming around--” “another one on your tail”

You let out a nervous laugh. Slip the data stick out of its hidden pocket and clench it tightly in your fist. You’ll have no better opportunity than this. 

“Contact!” Hammerly calls. “Unidentified cruiser just jumped in, sir, bearing five degrees mark delta.”

Thrawn goes over to look at the display, then motions for Senior Lieutenant Lomar. “Hail that cruiser. Open frequency.”

You have a second to marvel at how efficient and responsive his crew is-- Lomar had been anticipating his commander, and nods almost immediately to Thrawn that it’s ready.

“Attention, unknown cruiser. This is Grand Admiral Thrawn. By the authority of the Galactic Imperial Navy, I order you to stand down, and identify yourself.”

Static crackles over the connection. For a moment, everyone on the bridge holds their breath-- would there be an answer? Across the entire viewport, the battle still rages, though it’s already turning in Thrawn’s favor. 

Then, -- a voice. Gruff, almost metallic through the communications link. “I’ve heard of you.”

With everyone’s attention on the mysterious captain, you sidle closer to Ronan, and as casually as possible, brush his hand. He makes no reaction, just smoothly and quickly slides the datastick from your palm into his, and then it disappears into his pocket. 

“All the others who’ve come through here were easy prey.”

Thrawn is steady, emotionless. “You’ve attacked other Imperial ships?”

The voice laughs. Thrawn silently gestures to Commodore Faro, who seems to know what he wants. With the signal given, Lieutenant Agral begins to maneuver the Chimaera. Its bow angles down. Its hangar bay now faces away from the plane of battle and though its topside is now more exposed, the support ships serving as the fighter screen have had time to move into position. 

“I say again,” Thrawn says, his tone still polite. “Transmit identification.”  

“I’m afraid we won’t be doing that today, Grand Admiral.”

At that moment, the Chimaera’s remaining TIEs-- nearly the full complement-- stream around out of the ISD’s shadow, closing fast to range the cruiser. It looks like they’re going to catch it, that Thrawn’s plan is going to work, to intercept, capture, and identify the mysterious attackers. But just as they start to open fire, the cruiser jumps away. 

Silence falls over the bridge. Everyone looks to the Grand Admiral.

Thrawn gives a slight bounce on the balls of his feet. Even from here, you can see, he’s displeased, though his single ISD and just two support ships had defended against over two hundred, and come away with minimal casualties and damage. But from what you gather, this outcome is far from his usual victories. Still, the crew seem relieved, and in good spirits. For some of the more junior members, this was their first combat experience. Emotions run high. Thrawn orders meritorious citations for the two TIE pilots who had blown up the enemy fighter before it could crash into the star destroyer. 

This is what those bios had alluded to. Thrawn had pulled off an unlikely victory under pressure, and in the aftermath, he gives all credit to his crew. In some ways, he is a very difficult person to dislike. Though, Ronan doesn’t seem to have that problem. Now that the danger is over, he stomps over in a huff to demand answers about something or other, and to question Thrawn’s tactics. 

For your part, you must wait. The data stick with your question safely passed to Ronan. There is little else you can do, except wait, and grow more dismayed each day he doesn’t slip it back to you, or indeed, acknowledge your existence at all. 

☆join tag list☆ <- this is the easiest way to make sure your request is recorded, however anyone is also welcome to dm me if they want to be added or removed.

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☆ Link to Part 10 ☆

[overlord-of-fantasy]

The Chimaera crew is so done with them

*The bridge officers of the Chimaera are gathered on the bridge for a meeting* Eli: *walks in and sits on Thrawn’s lap* The crew: … Karyn: Why are you sitting there? Eli: There’s no free seats! Pyrondi: But we made sure there was enough room for- Thrawn: *hugs Eli tightly* There are no free seats.

[danger-xylophones]

Like Father (Thrawn x reader)

warnings: she/her, reader is referred to as a mother, set pre-Ahsoka

I wrote this a year ago and never published it, now I've reworked it to fit what we know

Set BABDM timeline

masterlist | chiss

.................................

"-so then we just use the formula 1/r^2 and it should give us the distance to that star..." Thatos's voice trailed off as he dove back into the complicated math problem he'd been working on for the past few minutes. His tongue poked out of the side of the mouth as he thought, an odd quirk he'd picked up a long time ago, and his stylus moved wildly across the page of durasheet he'd pulled from a sheaf you'd found the last time you were planetside.

Mitth'ato'saf was an odd child, you had to concede, even though he was your own blood. Where others his age would spend their free time lost in games or getting into trouble, he preferred to sit with a stylus and sheet to work out complex math problems. He was quiet and polite, friendly enough in his own subtle way, but more prone to keep his thoughts to himself until someone offered a kind ear. Which, unfortunately was a rare occurrence for the young boy amongst his peers. Which meant that you and his father were often the only two he'd really talk to. Like right now.

You stood in the living space you shared with Thatos and Thrawn in the little kitchenette shoved into the corner of the main room. Your lower back supported you against the counter you'd chose to lean against with arms folded firmly over your chest which made the bandolier about your torso dig in uncomfortably. The boy in question sat in the middle of the area, close to the door that led to his father's office but not so far away from the door to his own room that it would take too much effort to get himself new supplies. It'd been a slow day aboard the rebuilt Chimaera, meaning you'd been in and out of Thrawn's office all day, checking in on your son.

Your frequent stops were a bit unneeded. Thatos was a perfectly capable boy, even though he was only 10. And, if he got bored, you knew he'd wander his way either to Thrawn's observatory or to the bridge where you were stationed. And if you weren't on the bridge for him to talk to, Thatos would just as happily strike up a conversation with Enoch and Faro. And the two would humor the boy for a while till you came to collect him and ask if he needed anything.

Today, despite your vague hope that Thatos would get bored and ask to help you with something, the boy had been enthralled by his equations. He'd asked you the night prior about your home system; about the planets, the moons, asteroids and debris fields, and, of course, about the suns. You'd told him everything you could except for the size of your home system. Because, that was Thatos's entertainment. You knew he'd be busy researching and calculating the distances between the planets and the suns and everything else that made up your former home. And now, after nearly 6 hours of relentless calculating (inter-cut with an hour or two of mandatory rest instated by you) he was ready to show you everything he'd pieced together.

You had to hand it to your son, he was damn good at the math he enjoyed so much. "we get...1.578...um, oh!" He scribbled something out, bringing his nose near touching the floor to see what he was doing, and typed a few numbers into the calculator next to him, "1.5781e-5 light years!"

You hummed at the number he'd just thrown at you.

"So that means that light takes about 8 minutes to reach the surface of your home planet, 40 to get to the surface of Uncle Eli's, and 5 hours from the dwarf planet at the edge of your home system." Thatos finished proudly, puffing his chest just enough to pull a subtle laugh from you. When the young boy turned a playful glare on you, you stifled the laugh with an amending cough.

Thatos got to his feet unsteadily, legs sore from sitting crossed on the floor for so long no doubt, and wobbled over to you with the durasheet in hand. He passed it to you, that same proud puff of his chest still apparent.

"Hmm," you hummed, dragging a careful finger over the messy equations and scratched out calculations on the margins of this particular sheet, "good job, buddy." Although you didn't doubt Thatos was correct, you didn't know the times off the top of your head to confirm them. It had been years since you'd been back to the edge of Wild Space, let alone your home system. "I'm impressed."

"Aren't you going to check it?" Thatos asked, his pride slipping into sudden distress. His dark pink eyes stared up at you, milky irises darting back and forth as they tried to focus.

You doubled back, "Of course I'm going to check it," you soothed, reaching behind you to pluck your datapad off of the counter, "I just know that you're probably right, love."

That seemed to ease the boy's suddenly frazzled nerves. He settled back on his heels and waited with strained patience as you pulled up the specs of your home system and checked them against your son's messy scrawl. As you'd predicted - he was correct.

Reaching the durasheet out you gave it a little flutter to make she he’d heard. "As always, you were right, love."

Thatos made a happy hum in the back of his throat as he took the durasheet from you. Turning on his heel, he trodded a careful path back to his mess of stray sheets and styluses, feeling with his bare foot for any obstacles in his way. It was just as he’d settled into his previous spot that there came a small beep from the door leading to the office.

At the noise, Thatos's head snapped in the direction of the door he sat beside, pale eyes moving rapidly as he listened (and you did as well) for his father's footsteps. "Ticsi?" He called, shifting to sit on his knees and attempting to peer around the door (despite his inability to actually see) till he nearly toppled over.

The call of the young boy seemed to spur Thrawn on as his footsteps soon became quick and succinct, approaching swiftly. Thrawn's tall and lithe form appeared in the doorway shortly after. He had a datapad held aloft, clearly he'd been reading something on it, but at the sight of his young son Thrawn lowered the device till it tapped against his thigh. "Ritot, k'et." He greeted, bright red eyes taking on a new warmth as he looked upon the young boy before flicking to you, "Ch'acah."

You greeted him with a warm 'hello' just as Thatos scrambled to his feet and stumbled towards Thrawn, durasheet in hand. "Ticsi, look!" He cheered coming to a screeching halt just before he could crash into Thrawn and held out the durasheet in front of him for his father to take.

Carefully, as if handling the most precious art piece he'd ever seen, Thrawn took the sheet from his son's outstretched hand and with a raised eyebrow began to examine the scribbled calculations before him. Noticing the partially confused expression on Thrawn's face, you picked your way over to him. Slipping your hand down his arm, you gently tugged his datapad out of his hand and replaced it with yours that was still displaying the information on your home system. Thrawn's head turned to you in a grateful if not distracted nod as you placed a chaste kiss to his uniformed shoulder and raised up his datapad to examine its contents for yourself.

Unsurprisingly, it was a simple report regarding the goings on of the ship. Nothing particularly interesting - one of the lifts had malfunctioned today causing a couple of troopers to be stuck for a minute or so but that was it. As you scrolled down, reading further, you let your cheek rest against Thrawn's shoulder while he hummed at his son's work.

"I'm impressed," Thrawn suddenly spoke up, causing both your head and Thatos's to lift, "well done, k'et." His tone was warm, radiating with a fatherly pride that fit almost too well in the robust timbre of his steady voice. "Am I correct in assuming this is what you've been working on all day?" Thrawn kept his unfaltering gaze on his boy as he held the durasheet back out to him, giving it the same little shake you had to ensure he knew.

With an excited nod, Thatos snatched the sheet from his father and brought it up to his face to rove his eyes over his equations again.

Latching your hand around Thrawn's forearm, you held onto his arm in a small hug - head finding a resting place on his shoulder again. "Yep, although he did work on his history for a while too."

“Good, good,” Thrawn hummed, attention still trained on his son who was now gathering up his supplies to move them out of the way of the door, "did you work on any of the arts?"

"Poetry, today, but not for very long." You lowered your voice, raising onto your tiptoes to whisper into Thrawn's ear, "He's having trouble focusing today - I didn't want to push him too hard."

“Ah,” he hummed back once more, “I see.” Nodding at you, he turned his attention to Thatos’s retreating form as the young boy vanished into his room for a minute. “I think it would be wise to encourage leisure time.”

“Technically,” you started, smiling up at him in an impish way, “he’s been having leisure time all day. He just spent it working on his calculations.” Thrawn side-eyed you, a thoroughly unamused expression in his face. You thumped his side. “Don’t glower at me, you know damn well you spend your leisure time pouring over art instead of relaxing.”

Thrawn huffed derisively. “I happen to find my studies relaxing.”

Squeezing his hand tighter, you leaned into his side to place emphasis on the similarities you were highlighting. “Just as he finds his maths.” Unable to offer a suitable retort, Thrawn fell silent and offered a conceding nod.

"How did the meeting go?" You spoke into Thrawn's quiet.

"Very well." He hummed, turning to you, "the nightsisters have made contact with one of their own back home."

At that, you felt your mouth slacken. "How is that possible? We're in a separate galaxy."

"I am not sure, my love, they would not divulge that information to me." Thrawn's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Clearly, their secrecy bothered him. "Regardless, I did not feel it appropriate to pry, as you would say. Doing so now might make them...less willing to help us."

"Reasonable. Still, I would like to find that out at some point." You huffed. "Do you think we'll be able to go home?"

Thrawn didn't answer for a long stretch of time and you found yourself partially wishing you hadn't said anything at all. But, you justified your curiosity. You'd been by Thrawn's side for many years now, hells, you had a kid with him - it was only right that he would share his honest thoughts with you. And if he honestly thought that the two of you would have to continue to raise your boy completely separate from either of your cultures, you would prefer he not give you any false hope.

"I am not sure, ch'acah. The nightsisters are powerful enough but I doubt they have the means to send us home." Thrawn kept his voice quiet, presumably to keep Thatos from overhearing. The child knew that he was being raised in exile. Neither of you had bothered to hide that from him because you saw no point in doing so. And you both tried to make him feel connected to the cultures he came from. But it was so hard to make sure he knew about the rich life waiting for him in the other galaxy without accidentally making him mourn a life he never had.

"I understand, my love." You sighed. Even though you had expected him to say something like that, it still stung to hear his doubt.

"But," he began suddenly, "I would not give up hope yet. The universe is unpredictable and perhaps the nightsisters have means I do not know about."

"For the sake of all of us, I hope they do." You leaned closer to him, placing most of your weight in his hold.

"As do I." He whispered, pulling you to him. For a moment you stood in solemn silence, a heavy weight of acceptance and fortitude settling onto your shoulders once more.

Your son would see his home, whether or not you got to see it with him.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Study” Thrawn x Fem!Reader

(A/N: Thrawn doesn’t get Valentine’s Day, but…he does get a message from a special someone while he’s away. How soon can the grand admiral have shore leave to visit his beloved?

This was intended for a Valentine’s Day insert reader for like two years ago, I think.

Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: Thrawn reading a suggestive message from Reader, romance, flirting, slight teasing with words, foreplay with Thrawn’s hands, first time intimate together, protected sex, and aftercare. Use of (Y/N) for your name.

Word Count: 4,114 words)

Thrawn was back to work on his ship, the Chimaera, as routine. Busy even if his presence wasn’t on the command bridge. Alone in his suite, he was finally able to read the message you sent him hours ago. Something he had been looking forward to with curiosity and feelings.

You were more than a friend.

Unlocking the encrypted message, the datapad illuminated with your words.

Thrawn could imagine your smiling face greeting him.

Hello Thrawn. I hope this message reaches you and you’re safe. You work more hours than anyone I know. Yet I know how important your duties are and I am proud to know of someone so loyal.

Your words were happy, if not hidden with a hint of anticipation upon creating a message to be sent through to an Imperial Star Destroyer. Created by hands he had not seen in person for many rotations. Civilian hands.

A slight tension in your words suggested your ongoing and silent brooding of his absence.

So, I was thinking of people and their relationships lately. Those who are together and those who are separated by great distances.

Thrawn rose an eyebrow, intrigued.

I would like you to study for me. A personal project. Small and of great interest to you.

Leaning back, the grand admiral read on. His curiosity for your mind was always high. Not so unreasonably.

Familiar. Incredibly intimate in artistry.

Crimson eyes widened a fraction as your words continued, hinting at intimacy between people. It was not often the Chiss could be surprised.

He was more than thankful for the secure privacy of the message that had went straight to him without passing by any officers. Only he had the ability to decrypt it fully.

If you are willing. I would ask you to help me answer some questions.

What should a person do without their companion when all they can think about is them? Distracted by thoughts of the intelligence in their eyes and the touch of their expert hands, how can a person focus on their work?

What is beauty in a world or galaxy if one can not share it closely with another?

Is there a way to feel it deeply? To express an experience profoundly?

Thrawn held the datapad closer. There was not a second in which he had ignored or belittled your message. He found you had a great deal to tell him, all pertaining to the relationship you two had. He would not shy away from thoughts of beholding the beauty he knew, to know more than he had in previous rendezvous.

There are pretty words describing hands as they caress skin that shivers at the slightest touch from their partner. How is that different than thin fabric against the abdomen? Why would someone lose their breath at the contact or sight of their partner’s gentleness?

How would a hand brushing over the dips in one’s side compare to the lips pressed to one’s cheek?

Is it not a different expression of the same art?

Swallowing, Thrawn could not resist but to picture the questions in his mind; bodies unabashed to express emotions through movement. Your questions and his imaginings were his new study, for you. The both of you.

His duties reached further than the Galactic Empire, but something in him clung to you. He refused to acknowledge it out loud. For your safety. Despite being great distances a part, he could almost feel the warmth of your cheek against his palm. The memory of your lips whispering his name on his neck.

He blinked and read on.

Do partners not make art together if they wish it? Is it to be more cherished as their own piece?

Would it not be better than one person alone?

I have started to think so.

Thrawn wondered if you had tried. An image of you in his mind smiled, hands gently kneading your own skin to later only wish for his hands in place of your own.

Tension had left your questions, flowing together in a story of wonder. Designs to no doubt invoke a sense of pleasure. For him to theorize the possibilities of the relationship. Your romance.

Time and space. Speed and choice. Things Thrawn knew you wished he had more of in his stature. It could allow him more time with you on your quiet homeworld. A domestic setting within his life of duty and discovery.

Oh, what could warmth of another bring? Merely physical comfort from temperatures or more bodily gratification?

His lips parted. Thrawn found knowing and learning to be of utmost importance. All that his eyes could see. In his mind, he could see you.

Your words angled more in musings of delight a pair could have. Each one dipped in it.

You were alone. Thrawn could not be at your side to answer in kind. He could not immediately play-out your questions in life, touch you with intentional care. Not yet.

Each question you had imagined in a world all of your own and you placed him in it. The closest you could have him. Closer than his physical being ever had been.

You wanted him there.

He licked his lips briefly.

Thrawn was over due for time off. Overall, it would increase morale of his crew—giving them a break as well. Time to refresh and be stronger. More efficient in their duties.

Answers to new and current questions would further any reflection on them. Perhaps more theories will be added upon multiple peaks in pleasing conclusions. I will no doubt speak your name repetitively of your successes. Compliments to you.

Pressing his lips together, Thrawn could hear the sound of his own heartbeat. The datapad, held tightly in his grasp, hardly moved as he imagined you satisfied from expressing art together.

He wanted you. Of course he did. You understood his mind and respected his thought processes like no other. You had kissed him like no other being in existence. In turn, you both had a personal relationship he wished to grow and continue. Reading your suggestive message, he knew more than ever that he needed to experience deep intimacy with you in his arms. Away from the day’s list of allegiances and tasks. Proving that he knew you better than anyone in the galaxy with the slightest touch. To be with you because you desired it as much as he did.

Your words threatened to wreck his composure. But he needed to stay strong. Thrawn had to keep his patience and himself in a tolerable state. He wanted to wait for the physical you.

That meant ignoring the uncomfortableness of his trousers.

Steadying his breathing, Thrawn read the end of your message.

I greatly look forward to your assessment. It would immensely help my cognitive and intimate activities.

“You will not have to wait in need of me much longer,” Thrawn promised into the quiet of his suite. “I do enjoy personal projects for study.”

. . . 

The week had arrived with every necessary task completed to the highest degree and all willing crew members departed for shore leave. Thrawn, likewise, piloted his more discreet vessel into a familiar planet’s atmosphere.

Dressed in a cloak to conceal appearance and his civilian clothes, Thrawn stood in front of your door. Crimson eyes seemingly brighter upon meeting you.

Stepping aside, you nearly pulled him indoors in your joy of seeing him. Thrawn didn’t falter of course.

Front door closed and privacy full engaged, the pair of you embraced warmly. A very welcome morning surprise.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” you peppered kisses onto the blue cheek of the tall Chiss. “How are you?”

“I am well.” Thrawn stated calmly. “Have you been all right, (Y/N)?”

“All the more now, I think.”

He smirked at your words, linking your thoughts and feelings around his return solidified how much he meant to you. Gently, he placed a kiss to your temple.

“You have been safe?”

“I have,” you promised. “No suspicious characters, no odd placement of technology, nor threatening looks.”

“Good. Very good.”

Leaning back to peer up at your partner, you smiled knowingly. “So,” you started to ask while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Did you get my message?”

“I did.” Thrawn’s hands curved onto your waist. “My apologies for not sending a proper reply.”

“You being here is much better.”

“Indeed.”

“Did you do any studying?”

“One can only study and theorize to an extent without comparing it to reality.” Thrawn stated softly. “I would like to further my research after given permission. You did want to see what I have learned, did you not?”

“True. We can learn together. Find answers to a list of questions. How about a hands-on learning session?”

“That would be more than acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” You teased.

“Forgive me,” he said. “Words may start to fail me the closer we are to being passionately engaged in answers and one another.”

His words sent pleasant warmth through you. Leaning into him, you slowly unclasped his cloak and tossed it to the nearest surface.

“Do you need anything to drink? Or time to freshen up?” You asked, index finger tracing his jawline. “We can catch up. Talk.”

Thrawn rose a single dark eyebrow for a short moment.

“Or you’re entirely perfect and we can talk later . . .” You suppressed a small laugh.

“We were both patient. Prolonging our anticipation would be frivolous.” Thrawn professed. “I am anxious to begin.”

“So . . . You want to go straight to the bedroom?”

“Yes. If I may add, I have been looking forward to experiencing copulation with you.”

You chuckled as heat raised to your neck. “All right, eager and handsome.”

Grabbing one of his hands, you led him into your bedroom. An area of the household where he had spent more than one night resting and searching through his art collection on a datapad. Thin curtains dispersed any light coming into the room. Not too bright in a room designated for rest.

“First things first.” You stated, facing Thrawn. “No shoes in the bedroom.” You half thought he would roll his eyes or chuckle at such a comment, being that he had been there before.

To no one’s surprise, he did neither and removed his boots promptly.

“Are you to direct me to remove each article of clothing?” He smirked.

“No.” You stepped up to the tall Chiss and untucked his shirt. “We should have equal opportunity here. Don’t you think, grand admiral?”

A single blue finger tilted your chin upwards. Thrawn’s expression was soft, not as neutral as he displayed elsewhere in the galaxy.

“Yes. As you said, we have equality here in your home.” Red eyes held your gaze with warmth and certainty. “And I am not your grand admiral.” His thumb ran across your bottom lip. “Here, I am only yours.”

A break in the moment and breaths quieted as your heart swelled. Two hearts missing the other.

You crashed your lips into Thrawn’s in a passionate display of familiarity and desire. A firm push and pull of longing soon accompanied by the tugging of clothing as the two of you undressed each other. Each article of fabric piled onto the floor. Skin exposed to more skin in slow, aroused wonderment.

Thrawn kissed the side of your head. “An imaginative thought does not accurately depict your beauty.” He let his gaze marvel your form. “No matter how much I have memorized what I have been permitted to see.”

Ducking your head briefly, you stepped into his embrace and placed a single kiss to the center of his chest. “I think the same of you.”

“Do you?” His tone was no where near condescending, it instead held an honest curiosity.

“How could I not?”

Your hands began roaming the expanse of his chest as he explored your sides and curves. An all-encompassing discovery. Lips met again, neither battling for an upper-hand, but for expressing more. More love, more knowledge, more contact. All new affection.

Desire filled the room, expanding with each pass of fingertips and shared breaths.

Turning around, you leaned back into Thrawn. You guided his left hand to your breast and he kneaded experimentally without hesitation. Motions more confident within seconds.

“Like that,” you whispered and tilted your head back to kiss his chin.

Thrawn trailed his free hand from your shoulder, down your abdomen, and between your thighs. You sighed as his talented fingers found and rotated around your sensitive bud. Lightening up your arousal and all of your fantasies of the Chiss holding you. Thrawn, your beloved partner, was learning more about you each second with every touch and small sound. Your hands gripped his thighs for much needed support. His touch sending you into blissful contentment as only he could. Soft kisses were given frequently, delicate and between quiet breaths.

You gasped when you felt his member tap your thigh. It wasn’t something that could go unnoticed, not unlike the wet arousal he elicited from you.

“Thrawn,” you whispered contently while he continued to massage your most sensitive areas.

He hummed in response against your throat. Kisses were left as patterns across your shoulder, neck, and ear.

“Oh. Right there.” You murmured and rolled your hips to the rhythm of Thrawn’s hands. An electric pleasure quickly building between your legs.

Lips gently played with your ear. Thrawn’s hot breath fanning over your skin and sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“You’re—,” you gasped quietly, “incredible.” You twisted your body in delight as you came shortly.

Thrawn lightly nibbled your earlobe as his middle finger slid between your slick folds. There, he eased his finger into your entrance. The pad of his finger felt around your warm walls and pushed further in. He kissed your temple as your fingernails pinched the skin of his bare thighs.

“You like that.” Thrawn noted, slowly starting to pump his finger within you. “Would you like more?”

Breathless, you nodded earnestly.

The tip of his tongue followed the curve of your ear before he whispered, “As per your message, my heart, we can feel the beauty of the galaxy together.”

Supporting yourself against Thrawn, you glanced down as you felt him add another finger into you. You watched as muscles and tendons underneath blue skin flexed in a smooth rhythm.

Again, you felt the pleasure charging through you.

Another small gasp and you came again.

Your soft smile upon the short relief melted away when Thrawn stopped his skilled movements altogether. Before you could question him, he scooped you up and carried you over to the bed. He laid you down gently upon the cool bedsheets, a welcome feeling against your heated face and stomach.

The bed dipped as Thrawn moved about it. Anticipation grew in your belly even more as a kiss was given to the middle of your back. You sighed at the affection before you were flipped over to your back.

You were met with Thrawn’s steady crimson gaze.

Kneeling, he studied you, taking in your features. Every breath, every curve, and twitch would not go unnoticed by the grand admiral. Your Thrawn.

Under his gaze, you felt hot. All his attention was zeroed in on you.

“Why did you turn away while we touched?” Thrawn asked, a familiar seriousness in his eyes.

“Oh.” You had not expected the question. “I thought it’d be easier for you. With your hands and all at that angle. Better for your wrists?”

“My intention was to see your expressions while I touched you.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“There is no need for apologies. I was in need of an answer and I had not spoken my other intention beforehand.” Thrawn ran his hands across your skin, taking his time on your most delicately sensitive areas. “You are enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. You?” You ran your hands up his forearms and caught a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Thoroughly.”

Aside from eyeing any subtle reactions your body made, he continued fondling you with great interest and satisfaction. Any sound you made spurred him on. A discovery of each other.

“You had mentioned partners making art together. I am here now with you.” He squeezed your hips as his member twitched upwards. “Shall we continue to create our own piece and find pleasing conclusions to your theories?”

“Yes.”

Thrawn was quick to swoop in for a kiss to your lips. There, they did not stay. Eager lips traveled down the length of your body to taste your heated skin in a pattern only he knew. Lower still, blue hands held your waist as he nibbled your thighs.

You squirmed.

He chuckled low in his throat as he sat up on his legs. It wasn’t a sound you heard often, but when you did there was a hope you’d hear it more often. Spreading his legs, he pulled you closer and in turn lifted your lower half atop of his lap. Glowing eyes focused on your dripping arousal.

“I do wonder what sounds will leave your lips when I push into you. It will be quite exciting to learn more about you. Perhaps…I might even learn something more of myself.” His left hand smoothed underneath your bottom. “Intriguing.”

Your hands skimmed down your body to grip onto his hands. “Thrawn.” You breathed out his name, trying to keep your composure.

“Yes?”

“Please.”

“Explain.” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Reaching a hand behind you and under a pillow, you grabbed a small packet hidden away. You then tossed it at his chest.

“Oh. Right. Very responsible of you,” Thrawn said as he opened the item.

It was your turn to chuckle, “Distracted were you?”

“You wished me to study with you, my dear,” he pulled on the condom, “I am doing as you requested.”

“Then may I request that we both enjoy ourselves?”

“Yes. We shall…most thoroughly.” Holding your hip with one hand he used his other to direct himself inside your warmth. He exhaled audibly.

Your mouth fell open.

How many nights have you thought of this?

How much have you hoped to have Thrawn relax and have fun with you?

How many planetary rotations had passed with you both desiring for the other?

Your toes curled slightly as your legs dangled from either side of Thrawn.

Soft light in the bedroom highlighted his muscles underneath his blue skin. A glorious moving artwork of tactician genius allowing small huffs escape from his parted lips each time he brought your pelvis to his own. Striking red eyes focused on you and you alone as if every minute movement mattered. To Thrawn, it likely did. You weren’t going to last long if he kept looking at you like that.

In this part of the galaxy, he could count those he was truly loyal to on one hand. Those Thrawn had a personal relationship to was even less.

The activity at hand was more than mere fun or stress relief.

You came again with a sigh.

Thrawn gave a small smile, one you mirrored.

“Another one?” You inquired while lifting your hips higher as he slowed his thrusts.

“No.”

“No?”

Thrawn reached over to the head of the bed and grabbed a pillow before looking to you. “Do you not want to experience something more prolonged and pleasurable?”

Of course he was thinking three steps ahead and making sure it would be more than a simple pleasurable experience. It made you wonder how much thought he put into your reunion before he disembarked his Chimaera.

“You already know my answer.” You said.

“Indeed.”

Thrawn placed a pillow underneath your rear before he lowered himself, embracing and kissing you with all the familiarity of a lover who held a reputation for seeing details most could not. He knew you however, incredibly well. Even with new touch and movements, Thrawn knew you. Ever the attentive one.

You happily grasped onto his well-toned back.

All those years of training, missions, and battles gave your Chiss an impressive physique. It was no wonder he had the bodily awareness in which to find pleasure. An enjoyable task for more than yourself based on Thrawn’s less than subtle expressions.

Lips parted, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. Keen on watching you shift your head this way and that between waves of pleasure.

And you were loving every second.

Moving his right hand between the pair of you, his thumb found your sensitive bud again. There, he applied pressured, circular motions.

Your fingernails pinched onto his skin and you moved your hips faster to chase the increasing pleasure.

Thrawn never missed a beat nor a clear sign. He matched you with speed and heavy lidded eyelids.

“Thrawn, oh! Please—yes.”

Briefly, he kissed your lips before intertwining his left hand with one of yours, his dark red gaze never turned away. He continued his movements and touch in every way that made you start loosing your sense of reality.

“Oh, kriff. Kriff.” You shut your eyes, pleasure tightening in your core.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Thrawn huffed softly, “I want to witness your gratification…while I feel you on the verge of ecstasy and fall into its depths.”

You opened your eyes to see irises of dark red and pupils blown wide. Lips parted, you could only utter a small whine.

“You are close.” He said softly, a smile appearing.

“Thrawn.” You gasped as your breathing became more erratic.

A low growl rumbled through Thrawn’s chest and throat as his thrusts became less coordinated; yet he was ever adamant on his goal. He squeezed your hand while he held eye contact with you.

A feeling akin to pulsing had you tipping closer to the edge of climax. Something Thrawn no doubt noticed with a tinge of pride.

Mask of calm, certainty, and decisiveness crumpled from the Chiss above you as he swallowed and whispered, “I love you.”

“Ahh.” A short, broken cry tore from your throat.

Thrawn held on tightly as your body shook, your mind feeling as if you had jumped to lightspeed and back to realspace in less than a minute.

Easing back onto the mattress, you blinked to clear some of your pleasured haze to watch your lover frown in deep concentration, his blue-black hair falling out of place. At a slightly altered angle, right hand on your hip, Thrawn continued your pleasure as he rapidly chased his own high.

You considered him extremely attractive in such a state of mind.

“Tactician and lover,” you mused.

Dark red eyes flickered up to you and Thrawn buckled over with a grunt. He pushed himself as deep as possible into your warmth, panting through the pleasure.

As beautiful as the sight was, Thrawn eventually had spent all he had and settled into your awaiting arms. Murmuring in his native tongue, Thrawn pressed light kisses across the side of your face.

“I love you too.” You smiled warmly. “Every day, every night, while I’m asleep…”

He kissed your lips. Blue hands cradled your face in a delicate hold.

“I love you so much, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

For a moment or two he stared into your eyes. His panting breath mingled with yours as heightened emotions slowly settled behind his glowing gaze. Calming himself while still entangled with you, inside you, was a feat in and of itself.

“Thrawn?”

He blinked and disclosed quietly, “That was incredibly pleasurable.”

“Yeah.” You ran a hand up and down his back affectionately.

“Regretfully, I must remove myself.”

Thrawn smiled at your look of disapproval and rose up on his knees. His throat bobbed as he made no noise while pulling out of you. Again, in that position, he took his time observing you.

You didn’t mind; not as you viewed him in return with a faint glint of perspiration on his blue skin.

“Come with me, my heart.” Thrawn scooped you up gently into his arms and carried you into the refresher.

From there he instructed you to relieve yourself before he took care of the rest. Every touch and motion, Thrawn cleansed your skin with diligent attention. He checked for any discomfort and kissed you contently.

Refreshed by his love, you were settled back into the new and fresh bedsheets. Thrawn missed no detail or time.

“How long will you stay?” You asked quietly from your curled position with your beloved.

“Approximately fifty-two hours, if nothing requires my attention elsewhere.” His fingers made intricate patterns along your back.

“I can imagine a few things,” you smiled mischievously.

“As can I. We have the day ahead of us.”

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

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~~~~~

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[heirofazure]

The Chimaera Officer's Club - 1

Summary: The ISD Chimaera's crew is granted liberty (shore-time leave) on Coruscant while the ship undergoes routine inspections. When Commodore Thrawn decides to join First Officer Faro and Lieutenant Commander Vanto for a wild night out, they realize they have no idea what they've gotten themselves into. Will this be the end of their careers or a night to remember?

“Yes, yes, and- wait, yes!” First Officer Karyn Faro exclaimed, slumping into a command chair after docking the monstrosity known as the ISD Chimaera at the Imperial Navy Yard. She would often forget the size of the Imperial Star Destroyer until it needed to be docked, and especially when it needed to be docked on Coruscant. The logistical nightmare of it all had been draining, and even the final anchoring procedure had required surgical precision.

Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto let out a whistle of amusement while scrolling on his data pad, “Commander Faro, I know you’ve been looking forward to our liberty, but have you even figured out where we’re going out to eat? Unless you plan on eating at the mess hall again…”

Faro looked up at him, a scowl on her face as she said, “Enlighten me, Eli, as to why I need to know where we’re eating when we didn’t even know we had liberty until 15 hours ago?” 

Vanto scoffed. “There is no way you just referred to me by my first name. You really are excited, huh?” he asked, mischief glittering in his eyes. 

“Of course! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been out of this bridge, let alone this ship?” said Faro, slowly rising to her feet with lingering exhaustion. She would have to forgo her usual rest period to take advantage of their brief window of freedom. Absolutely nothing would ruin this for her crew. They had needed this reprieve for over seven standard weeks.

She began pacing as she considered their options out loud, “We could have one of those fancy Coruscanti six-course meals, or Umbaran cocktails with small bites. We might even be able to sneak some snacks with us on the way back.” 

Vanto chuckled, entering the search terms for coruscant air taxi and local nightlife into his data pad. It was nice to see Faro excited about anything for a change. For the past few weeks, they had been chasing pirates, recovering stolen goods, and busting would-be smugglers across the galaxy. They had been successful, but Faro was still getting used to Thrawn’s way of doing things, and everyone knew that the Commodore was an acquired taste. Vanto could detect that Faro wasn’t used to placing her blind trust in a senior officer. Considering the amount of backstabbing that occurred within the ranks of the Imperial Navy, he was hesitant to do the same.

But Thrawn was different. They were all still alive because of his resourcefulness. That was rare in a Navy that went through conscripts like there were more being born each day. While other commanding officers treated their subordinates as chopped tipyip that should mindlessly follow orders, Thrawn encouraged discussion and ideas. It was enough to make any new officer somewhat suspicious of his intentions, but Vanto knew better.

“Hey, how about we take an air taxi to the Tian District and see what’s going on over there? There’s a market with intergalactic specialties, whatever that means, and some sort of fancy art fair.” Vanto said, zooming in on the pictures to show Faro.

“Art fair?” 

The voice came from the direction of the turbolifts at the rear of the bridge. Faro and Vanto’s heads snapped in that direction to see Commodore Thrawn heading their way, an eyebrow arched in question as he said, “Commander Vanto, I was not aware this was an appropriate time to consider perusing through art displays.”

Vanto’s face flushed red with embarrassment as he realized he was openly discussing leisure activities, as all other bridge personnel were still doing systems checks. Faro stood at attention, nervously glancing between him and Thrawn.

“My apologies, sir.” He said, his eyes barely able to look at the Chiss’ red ones appraising him, “I was just trying to make sure Commander Faro would have a nice time this evening after all of her hard work.”

Faro stared daggers at him, her expression turning incredulous as she realized he had used her as an excuse. Eli winced, hoping she wouldn’t beat him to a pulp during their tactics training in two days.

Thrawn’s eyes slid to Faro, his gaze softening as he said, “Is everything alright, Commander?” 

Faro swallowed, her eyes still nervously darting between Thrawn and Vanto. “Y-yes, sir. The Chimaera has been successfully docked, and maintenance should be arriving in an hour to commence an exterior inspection of the hull. All personnel have been notified of their liberty allowance period, and shifts have been confirmed to ensure there is no lapse in operations,” she said, the words leaving her mouth at hyperspeed.

Vanto noticed the corners of Thrawn’s mouth quirk slightly as he said, “Very good, Commander. However, I was not inquiring as to the status of the ship, but rather how you are doing?”

Faro’s eyes widened as she nervously shifted from one leg to the other. “I-I’m ah, I am…yes.” she said, stuttering as she attempted to form a reply. Vanto cupped his hand over his mouth and chuckled, not being able to hold back as he watched the most squared away officer in the entire Imperial Navy fumble for words as if she had never answered a question before. Faro glared at him, and her cheeks turned pink as she crossed her arms. Even Thrawn couldn’t help smiling, but he nodded his head towards her and said, “My apologies if I startled you.” 

“Not at all, sir. To be completely honest, I’m not used to superiors even caring about our wellbeing.” Faro said, looking up at him with slight suspicion. Vanto couldn’t suppress the giggle that emanated from his throat, earning him another well-deserved scowl. Oh, he was definitely getting a bruise in 48 hours.

Thrawn glanced at him briefly and cleared his throat. Vanto did his best to lock down his amusement at watching Faro flounder, and said, “Actually, sir, we’re considering using our liberty to head to the Tian District. It’s only about 15 minutes from here via air taxi, and we should be back before the shift change.” He beamed at Faro, who still looked as if she wanted to take his data pad and use it as a projectile.

“That sounds lovely. I recall us visiting that area during our time in the Imperial Academy, Commander Vanto,” Thrawn said. “Would your outing party be able to accommodate an additional member?”

Faro arched an eyebrow, her expression puzzled as she said, “Of course, sir. But who will be joining us?” She most likely assumed it was some sort of minder, and Vanto didn’t blame her for thinking that way. Imperial Security Bureau agents crawled through the city-planet like vermin, surveilling civilians and military personnel alike. Thrawn was probably just trying to make sure they didn’t do anything to jeopardize their careers in one night. 

 As Vanto’s gaze focused on the Commodore, he realized that Thrawn looked taken back by Faro’s response. Now Vanto and Faro had the advantage of watching their commanding officer work through an awkward pause as he searched for the right words to say. Vanto felt his hands get clammy, and he made eye contact with Faro, who looked to be equally as anxious. Who was Thrawn trying to send to tag along with them?

A nervous feeling snaked through Vanto’s stomach as he prayed to whatever Coruscanti gods listening that Thrawn did not force them to take Ensign Sargos Ieni. He was known for his strange behavior, and Vanto was sure that as much as he wanted to be the friendly mentor, he’d probably end up somewhat violated if they took that kid along. And that was only if Faro didn’t dump him in a Navy Yard sewage vat first.

Thrawn looked at the bridge floor. “Actually, I was wondering if I could join you both,” he said, his voice barely more than a murmur. Vanto looked over at Faro, who seemed to be frozen in shock. The Commodore Thrawn wanted to leave the Chimaera for a night of fun and debauchery? A night of excessive spending and questionable shopping choices? Even Vanto was speechless. They both looked at Thrawn, and he glanced at them both, assuming his usual demeanor as he said, “Is that improper?”

Faro opened her mouth to speak but closed it abruptly. Vanto realized he once again had to save the day. “It’s not improper, sir. We’re just surprised you want to tag along. But we’d be delighted if you joined us! It’ll be a great time, isn’t that right, Commander?” he said, gifting Faro a toothy grin while wiggling his eyebrows. The tactician, the analyst, and the enforcer. What could go wrong?

Faro only stared at him, and then glanced around, assessing the slowly emptying bridge as the crew prepared for their liberty period.  She returned her gaze to Thrawn and said, “You’re not a lightweight, right?” 

Vanto felt the floor beneath him vanish, and his jaw dropped in shock. Did Faro just ask their commanding officer if he was a lightweight? This couldn’t be real. Thrawn looked at Faro with a degree of confusion. “Pardon me, Commander, but what does that mean?” he said. He glanced at Vanto. “May you translate?” he asked.

Vanto wanted to make a mad dash for the turbolift, but was pinned to his spot only because he could not bear leaving the area before seeing what came of this. Was he being nosy? Affirmative. Did he care? Negative. Regardless, Faro looked determined to get an answer, and not an ounce of embarrassment radiated from her. Was this her way of testing Thrawn? 

“Of course, sir. Lightweight is…likureesensib,” Vanto said, doing his best to keep a straight face. Thrawn’s eyes flared with shock, and he pivoted to directly face Faro. “Lightweight,” Thrawn said, savoring the word as he pronounced each syllable. “Why exactly is that in question, First Officer?”

Faro sighed, weariness blanketing her features as she realized who she was speaking to. “Sir, we like to have a good time. It’s been seven weeks since I’ve been able to have some semblance of freedom, and I don’t want to have to put a damper on the fun. Or call it a night and return early while dragging you back to the med-bay,” Faro said, her expression somewhat apologetic. “Forgive me if I was too frank, Commodore. I meant no offence.” 

Vanto held his breath as he watched the Commodore’s red eyes narrow while processing his First Officer’s response. For a few tense seconds, Thrawn continued to ponder while his thumb rested under his chin, an arm braced around his abdomen. Faro quickly stole a look at Vanto, panic blooming in her eyes. This was it. Thrawn was about to demonstrate the authority he seldom used, and Faro would be his victim.

Eli opened his mouth to apologize on her behalf when suddenly, Thrawn said, “Who is to say you will not be the one needing anti-inebriation therapy from the medical bay?”

Faro stared at him, dumbfounded. “Excuse me, sir?”

Thrawn lifted his chin, his expression menacing as he said, “I thought I prepared you for tactical situations better than this, Commander. You assume I have the alcohol tolerance of a human, and therefore the weakness of a human liver.” He leaned down towards her, a sinful smile gracing his lips as he said, “You have made a grave mistake, First Officer Faro. To defeat an enemy, you must know them.”

Faro shuddered, now realizing what she was up against. Vanto pitied her, but quickly pressed his lips together to avoid howling with laughter.

Thrawn smiled knowingly at Vanto as he said, “Commander Vanto, arrange for an air taxi to retrieve us in an hour. Let us show Commander Faro a good time.” He began to turn towards the turbolifts when he came to a sudden pause, and angled his face towards Faro. His eyes glowed with anticipation as he said, “Let us discover who the true lightweight is.”

“Yes, sir,” Vanto said, fighting for his life to look down at his datapad and complete the order. This was about to be the night of a lifetime.

Thrawn turned and resumed his walk to the turbolifts, leaving a shellshocked Faro and Vanto to look at one another with the same giddy apprehension.

“Vanto, was that a challenge? Am I going to regret this?” Faro said, still in awe of what had just transpired. Although she wore a tight smile, her voice betrayed her anxiety. She clasped her hands behind her back to avoid Vanto seeing what he presumed was trembling.

Vanto chuckled nervously as he said, “The Chiss do not make idle boasts or promises. We’re so screwed.”

And so, the adventures of The Chimaera Officer’s Club begin! Will the crew get lit or die trying? Find out next time!

Also, I love hearing from readers, so feel free to leave comments or memes! :)

[contentment-of-cats]

A theory

You didn't see a single Imperial officer or specialist around Thrawn because they're all in these. They're in stasis.

From Wookiepedia:

Crew and Passengers 46,785

Officers 9,235

Enlisted 27,850

Stormtroopers 9,700

TIE Pilots 72

Gunners 275

AT-AT pilots 40

AT-ST drivers 60

Imperial Troop Transport Pilots 30

Imperial Combat Pilots 20

Imperial Shuttle Pilots 16

Consumables: 2 years

With the bridge being located in the upper half of the ship, the officer's quarters were located right below it. To complement its impressive crew size, every Imperial-class vessel carried consumables for 2 years, with its liquid stores and holds for raw materials being located near its bow. Amidships, crew barracks, gunnery crew quarters, meeting rooms, training areas, and cell blocks were located in the vessels second 'step,' with four gradually upsloping smaller 'steps' eventually leading to the ships 'neck' which connected it to its upper bridge section, deflector shield generators, and communications array.

And-

The Chimaera survived its trip between galaxies, being taken by the purrgil along their ancient migration routes to the world of Peridea, located in a distant galaxy. Here it stayed in forced exile until the arrival of Morgan Elsbeth, seeking Thrawn. By 9 ABY, the ship was operational, but in poor condition: large sections of the superstructure of both the bridge command tower and the starboard side had lost their armored outer layers, a huge chunk had been torn from the Star Destroyer's port side, and 2 of the 3 Destroyer-I Ion engines severely damaged. The Chimera was kept aloft by its 4 Gemon-4 Ion engines, all of which were still functioning.

Pics of damage

So mass casualties, low on supplies. Maybe the decision was made to get the ship as spaceworthy as possible, and those not needed went into stasis, followed by the other crew members as their tasks were completed. Thrawn is bringing them home.

[marginal-liminality]

Tyler Kline’s latest exhibition, “Skybound as Titans,” at Chimaera Gallery, is a compelling exploration of the intersection between the ancient and the contemporary, the physical and the digital. Kline, a Philadelphia-based artist with a background in both street art and traditional sculpture, continues his investigation into how modern technology and ancient materials can coexist and inform one another.

The exhibition features a series of bronze sculptures that, at first glance, appear to be relics from a bygone era. However, upon closer inspection, these works reveal themselves to be intricate amalgamations of classical forms and modern digital aesthetics. Kline’s use of bronze—a material steeped in historical and cultural significance—serves as a conduit for exploring contemporary themes. In a 2015 interview, Kline discussed his fascination with bronze, noting its “cross-cultural relationship with alchemy, ceremony, and the material arts.” He elaborated on how the process of transforming a base material into something precious parallels the human desire for transformation and transcendence. 

One of the standout pieces in the exhibition is a large-scale sculpture that melds the form of a classical titan with elements reminiscent of digital glitches. The figure’s fragmented limbs and distorted features evoke a sense of both decay and evolution, suggesting a commentary on how technology alters our perception of the human form. This piece, like others in the exhibition, invites viewers to contemplate the convergence of the physical and virtual realms.

Kline’s background as a skateboarder and street artist is also evident in his work. His previous installations have incorporated found materials and urban detritus, reflecting his deep engagement with the urban environment. In “Skybound as Titans,” this sensibility manifests in the way the sculptures interact with the gallery space. The placement of the works encourages viewers to navigate the space dynamically, much like a skateboarder traversing a cityscape. 

The exhibition is further enriched by Kline’s incorporation of motion-activated lights and moving parts, creating an immersive experience that blurs the line between observer and participant. This interactive element harkens back to his 2012 exhibition at Rebekah Templeton, where he utilized similar techniques to engage viewers. In that show, Kline transformed the gallery into a carnival-like installation, complete with motion-sensitive lights and kinetic sculptures. 

“Skybound as Titans” is a testament to Kline’s ability to fuse disparate elements into a cohesive and thought-provoking body of work. By bridging the gap between ancient materials and modern technology, he challenges viewers to reconsider their relationship with both the past and the present. The exhibition not only showcases Kline’s technical prowess but also his capacity to provoke meaningful dialogue about the evolving nature of art and society. 

For those interested in experiencing “Skybound as Titans,” the exhibition is accompanied by a series of events, including an artist talk where Kline delves into the inspirations and creative processes behind his work. This offers a unique opportunity to gain deeper insight into the mind of an artist who continues to push the boundaries of contemporary sculpture. 

[vibratingskull]

Hi dearest first I hope you're fine 💗

I am so excited to see you opened your requests

Can I ask for Thrawn×reader. She is one of his best officers at the chimera, but she tends to try and stay away from him because she is afraid he will figure out what she hides.

She was actually born with a defect in he eyes she has red eye(yes, purposely red because chiss has red eyes ...) and because of that, she was treated like a monster by others and everyone thought her to be some kind of demon, including her family from a young age(she is originally from a very homogeneous human planet)

So she has learned to hide it she wears eye contact and keeps a pair of sunglasses at reach . But what if she helps Thrawn in a battle and he ends up finding out.

Sorry if it's too long or you don't like to ignore me. Again, I hope you are well.

I dear anon 💗 I'm fine thank you 💗 I am excited to open them back once again, I missed writing for my blueberry husband!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Thrawn x F!reader°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tags: Pre-relationship, space battle(mentionned), Thrawn interest is picked, fluff

BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP... 

You wake at the sound of the alarm. The Chimaera is under attack! 

You jump into your uniform and frantically search for your contacts, but a huge tremor makes you reconsider. Putting on contacts when the ship trembles so much is a sure way to get hurt! You open your drawer, put on your sunglasses and run into the corridor, fighting your hair into the reglementary bun. 

You rarely use your sunglasses, because you usually have the time to put on your contact lenses, giving you cute (color) eyes instead of their ‘natural’ red. 

If you can even call it natural. 

You sprint with your colleagues, each gaining their posts throughout the entire ship. Everyone knows where to go and what to do; the Chimaera is a well-oiled machine, Grand Admiral Thrawn made sure of it. 

“Hey girl!” Karyn  greets you, running with you, “What’s with the sunglasses?” 

“Oh, hum, I have light sensitivity issues.” You lie on the fly. 

“Since when?” She asks, furrowing her brows 

“Recently. I think I am developing migraines.” You improvise. 

“Oh Frost! Don’t get one on the bridge, we need you at full capacity!” 

“Yes Ma’am!” 

You don’t know who was guarding the bridge during Grand Admiral Thrawn and Karyn’s absence, but they’re going to get it, precipitating the Chimaera into battle like that! You enter the bridge to discover the officer leading the bridge in complete panic, trying to coordinate all the teams and offer real opposition to the attacking forces. 

“Senior Captain, report!” Karyn demands. 

They spin toward you, visibly stressed. 

“Commodore Faro! Commander (F/n)! They came out of nowhere! I did not have time to-” 

“Report, Senior Captain!” Karyn barks. 

“5 freighters, 3 corvettes, and 7 cruisers Ma’am. They embushed us.” 

“The rebellion?”  

“More probably a local Pirate gang.” You intervene, looking at the screen, “The location is a bit too perfect for an ambush, clearly they know the area well. The formation is also very peculiar, they remind me of...” 

“The Anzati?” Karyn completes. 

“Precisely.” You nodded, “That’s going to be a problem, those are not simple Pirates like I first thought.” 

“What are they then?” The Senior Captains asks, trying to calm down. 

“They are hunting for food.”  

“...That’s all?” 

“We are the food in this precise moment.” Karyn explains, “This is an humanoid species that eats intelligent races’ brains.” 

“Oh... Oh Kriff! Oh Maker! What should we do?” 

“Fight back, obviously.” You simply respond, “hold on until Grand Admiral Thrawn is ready.” 

“Where is he? Why is not here already?” They panic 

You and Karyn look at the Senior Captain who really should take some anxiolityc. 

“He is getting ready. Do not question a Grand Admiral.” Karyn reprimands them harshly. 

“... Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am.” The slowly calms down, taking big breath. 

This one is too young to be a Senior Captain already. They are not ready for leadership yet. 

You observe all the screens, the bridge is well enough lit for you to see despite your sunglasses. You take your chin between your fingers, deeply thinking. 

“So what do we have?” Karyn demands the bridge 

“A freighter and a cruiser down, Ma’am.” Pyrondy announces. 

“Good. Send me all the data and their trajectories, I want an entire scan of their group and the list of their weaponry, stat!” 

"Commodore, how are things presenting?” A deep, regal voice rises behind you. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn appears, finishing buttoning his sleeve. 

“I am sorry for my lateness. I see you are handling things.” 

“Two ships are down, we still have 13 to go.” She explains, “Ranging from simple freighters to armed Cruisers.” 

“A thorny problem, but not a world-ending situation.” Thrawn philosophically notes, sitting down in his commanding chair, “That will be a welcome exercise for our ensigns. Commander (F/n), tell me what you’re seeing on the screen.” 

“An Azanti formation, a tight one. They are moving into a scissors formation.” 

“Azanti? Interesting.” Thrawn thoughtfully says 

“Interesting problematic, or interesting amusing?” Karyn asks, reviewing the data on her datapad. 

“Amusing, obviously.” You add with a grin, “Nothing is problematic against the Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

“I appreciate your faith in me, Commander (F/n). Let us hope it is not misplaced.” 

It isn’t 

You’ve learned to trust your Grand Admiral... peculiar techniques and strategies, but his results are immaculate! You have yet to see him defeated once. 

Those Azanti may feed on brains, but they will need to put theirs upside down if they hope to win against Grand Admiral Thrawn 

“If I may suggest, Sir. Our sensors detect an important quantity of gas emanating from the nearby planet. Cracking a match here would make for a  beautiful show.” You notify him. 

Thrawn nods. 

“Glad to know at least my Commodore and my Commander are level-headed before an enemy.” 

The Senior Captain cringes, trying to make themself invisible by not looking at Thrawn directly. 

“Noted, Commander. Let’s offer our guests a flamboyant welcome in the Empire’s territories.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

You open your eyes with a groan of pain. 

What the hell just happened? 

You were ordering the crew, sending data to Thrawn, and evaluating the evolution of the battle when... a Blackout in your brain occurred. 

You look around to discover the bridge in shambles, people on the ground and whimpering, screens fuming and broken, a new alarm blaring off.  

And you understand. 

They threw one of their ships at you. 

And you hit your head. 

“Get up, Commander (Y/n), the battle is not yet over.” A large hand grabs your arm to help you to your feet, “Help gather the wounded and... Your eyes.” 

You spin your head towards Grand Admiral Thrawn, disheveled and with a bleeding cut at his cheek, still holding your arm, fixing your face, squinting at you in controlled surprise. 

Your sunglasses! They are on the ground! 

You tear yourself from Thrawn’s grip and grab your glasses, hurriedly putting them on in a panic. You spin toward your superior and stand to attention in the same movement. 

“Gathering the wonded, Got it Sir!” 

And you run away! 

Frost! 

Frost! Frost! Frost! Frost! 

You managed to keep the secret for so long! And especially from him!   

You ring the Med teams and direct them to the scene. When you sneakily look back at your Grand Admiral, he is leading the rest in the battle, already forgetting you. 

Good. 

You help the Medics to clear the victims from under the rubble and fallen stations. The last wounded ensign is evacuated, and a Medic grabs your arms. 

“You are bleeding from the face, Ma’am. We must examine you.” 

------------------------------------------------------ 

You are lying in your bed in the medbay, in a privatised room, courtesy of your rank. You scroll through your datapad, remotely working. You could not help for the rest of the battle, but you can always operate the support teams and technicians for the repairs. 

You are sending the last group when a knock on your door can be heard. You hurriedly put back your sunglasses on when Grand Admiral Thrawn entered. 

“Commander.” He greets politely 

“Grand Admiral.”  

“The Medic in charge told me your wounds were not dire. You should be up in no time.” He approaches the bed, hands clasped behind his back, looking as regal as ever. 

You note with amusement that he took the time to coiff back his hair and dress the cut of his cheek. 

“Good.” You nod, “I do not like remaining inactive.” 

“Inactivity is a breeding ground for complacency.” Thrawn agrees, “How do you feel?” 

“Shaken up, but I’ll get over it.” You promise your superior. 

“I know you will.” He notes, sitting down on the stool next to the bed, “You are one of my most precious elements, I need you operative as soon as possible.” 

“Dutily noted, Sir.” 

You both remain silent for a moment. You clear your throat, a bit uncomfortable. Thrawn visiting his wounded officers is nothing out of the ordinary, but he usually stays at the footboard and leaves rapidly.  

But you kinda guess why he remains this time. 

He turns his head to you, looking into your eyes through the smoky glass, back straight as ever. 

“Your eyes are of a peculiar color.” He finally drops 

“I would appreciate you keep it a secret, Sir.” 

“Understadable. Bad memories?” 

“A lot. Traumatic ones. I don’t want to relive them.” You slouch 

His gaze lowers to the cover of the bed, like he was thinking for a bit, before rising back to face yours. 

“I was surprised.” He reveals. 

“Yes, that is not a common color in humans.” 

“No. I was surprised you were able to keep it a secret for so long, especially from me.” 

You smile a bit sadly. 

“I am one of your most precious element.” 

He chuckles slightly. 

“I guess you are indeed.” He clasps his hand on his lap, “Have you investigated how this red eye color could have happened?” 

“Not a lot.” You shrug, “Our safest bet is that I inherited the genes from both my mother and father. We theorise that aliens with red eyes crossed paths with their ascendants centuries ago and mated with them, and the gene is recessive.” 

“... Could those aliens be...?” He asks before falling mute, closing his expression 

“Chiss?” You complete, “Maybe. It is a possibility.” 

He nods, looking down as he rubs his hands pensively. 

“That would be quite a coincidence.” 

“It would, yes. That’s why I was... torn.” 

“Torn?” He frowns. 

“About you.” 

He raises an eyebrow, mildly amused at your insolence.  

“I wanted to get to know you better, to maybe learn about my possible ancestry. But I did not want to get exposed, and you would have pierced my secret in one hour flat.” 

“Is that why you took care to always evade and avoid me, Commander?” 

You wince. 

“It was that visible?” 

“To me it was.” 

“I am sorry, Sir. I meant no disrespect.” 

“None taken, Commander. You always took your job seriously and successfully led your missions, so I let it fly.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But if you still wish to learn about your possible ancestors, you know where to find me (F/n).” 

You look at him incredulously. 

“... You would?” 

Him, revealing to you the Chiss ways? Their civilisations and rules? He who always kept them secrets even to the Emperor? 

“Yes. You may be part of my home, the only one I ever knew. I think it is beneficial to know where we come from.” 

“... Thank you Sir.” 

“And I am curious about you.” 

Your eyes round up in surprise. 

“Sir?” 

“Not everyone is able to hide a secret from me for so long. You intrigue me Commander (F/n). I want to know you better.” 

You cannot help but feel your cheeks getting on fire. And as Chiss can see heat signals of the body, he definitely sees it. 

Wich worsens it even more. 

“I am not forcing you into anything, Commander.” He lets you know soothingly. 

“I know! I know, Sir... I am simply surprised. You are such a secret man.” 

“Maybe... You will learn some of my secrets, one day? Who knows what fate has in store for us.” 

You nod, your entire face on fire. You lower your gaze before his, too embarassed. 

“Would you allow me to see your eyes again?” 

You raise your head. 

“Sir?’ 

‘”I just want to see them again for a minute. Would you allow it?” 

You grab your sunglasses with an hesitation and take them off. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn dives into your gaze, looking thtough your soul, exposing your inner self before him 

You gulp. 

“They are beautiful.” He lets you know thoughtully. 

The fire of your skin worsen. 

You always kept a distance between you and him, but a part of you was undeniably attracted and seduced by that man! You always remained away from him, but your soul and heart were yearning to know that mysterious chiss. 

And now he wants to know you better and casually compliments you? Phew! Your heart can’t take much more! 

You feel about to burst. 

He grins. 

“I am overstepping my current position, I should leave. I wish you a good rest, Commander. We will see each other. Very soon...” 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @janjtje @helrose8

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren x Ezra Bridger

The Last Promise

End of the War.

Thrawn’s command ship, The Chimaera, is boarded by Jedi Knights, Ezra Bridger and Sabine Wren.

Lightsabers ablaze, they enter the bridge. Thrawn is alone, watching his fleet burn by New Republic forces.

Thrawn: A victory well earned. Even I didn’t see it coming.

Sabine advances on him, Ezra close behind.

Sabine: Well, we aim to please. Although it is strange to see you, of all people, be impressed with what’s happening.

Thrawn: It was well done. I am not so egotistical to not commend your plan when it works.

Ezra scans the room and then Thrawn.

Ezra: He’s unarmed, Sabine. No one else here.

Sabine: Good. Get on the comms and let Hera and the New Republic fleet know.

Ezra hurries over to the comm station.

She turns to Thrawn, a grim smile on her face.

Sabine: It’s over, Thrawn. The Empire is well and truly dead after this.

Thrawn: And so it is. But, I’m afraid you will share the same fate, Sabine Wren.

Sabine: What’s that supposed to mean?

Thrawn: You plan to arrest me, yes? Put me on trial?

Ezra: Yes. You’ll answer for your crimes.

Thrawn: Along with all who aided me in my plans.

Ezra pauses and looks at Thrawn. Sabine looks to Ezra.

Sabine: Ezra. It’s okay.

Thrawn: What will the New Republic do when they learn that one of their own was the reason for my return? Will they show you leniency?

Sabine raises her lightsaber to Thrawn’s chest.

Sabine: Be quiet.

Thrawn raises his hands in mock surrender. His smile is almost gleeful; red eyes glowing with all the menace he can muster at this last revenge on his personal enemy.

He’s enjoying this.

Thrawn: Will you kill me? Not very Jedi-like. In fact, I’m counting on it. The Empire will fall but I’ll make sure it takes every last one of you with it. Starting with you, Sabine Wren.

Ezra is silent. Sabine looks to him again, her eyes full of sadness . . . and resignation.

Sabine: I know what I did was wrong. I accept that. I’ll face the consequences.

Thrawn: There will be no peace for you. They will drag you through the streets of Coruscant. Mock and curse your name. You’ll be hated. Exiled from every New Republic world. I’ll see to it that every waking day from here on is filled to the brim with misery and pain -

There’s the sound of blaster fire. A sizzling hole appears in Thrawn’s chest.

Sabine whirls around only to find Ezra, holding one of her blasters.

She lowers her lightsaber, shocked.

Sabine: Ezra?

He doesn’t answer. His face is unreadable as he steps forward to catch a collapsing Thrawn.

Thrawn looks surprised. Blood leaks from a corner of his mouth as he coughs.

Thrawn: . . . Unexpected. You continue to surprise, Ezra Bridger. This is not the act of a Jedi.

Ezra, sadly: I know. I’m not doing this as Jedi.

Thrawn: Then . . . why?

Ezra looks away and finds Sabine’s eyes.

Ezra: You wouldn’t understand.

Thrawn looks between the two of them and nods to himself.

Thrawn: No, I think I do now. Both of you. Why she did it. Why you did this. Mysterious how it can move people to act outside their normal parameters . . .

Ezra: You mean the Force?

Thrawn: No.

The Grand Admiral shudders once and is still.

Ezra closes his eyes and lays him down. Sabine just watches, not knowing what to say.

Ezra: It’s finished. We need to call Hera.

Sabine: Ezra. Why - why? I was ready to -

Ezra: You did it for me. I’m doing this for you. We’re even.

Sabine: It’s not right. None of it was the right choice!

Ezra: I know! I know.

Sabine takes a step back, surprised at his outburst.

Ezra looks at her. Smiles sadly.

Ezra: We’ll have to make up for what we did. Rotting in a New Republic cell won’t do it.

He steps to Sabine and holds her hands.

Ezra: And we’ll do it together.

Sabine, so soft. Looking into his eyes and seeing the endless devotion and care pouring out. She didn’t need the Force to tell how he felt in that moment.

Sabine: It could take a while, you know. To fix all this.

Ezra, nodding: Probably. Could take the rest of our lives. Lots to do.

Sabine smiles, tears forming.

Sabine: Is that a promise, Ezra Bridger?

Ezra smiles back. He answers, but not with words.