something about how ezra grew up a street rat stealing to survive, only ever looking out for number one. how the ghost crew taught him that fighting for collective freedom could give his life greater purpose, that HOW you fight is as much if not more important than what you fight for. how he tries and fails and is tempted by the power of the dark side but slowly learns how to lead. how he witnesses kanan choose the exact moment in which he can make the most impact, to save his family and to strike a blow against the empire, and learns to honour that sacrifice by letting go. how he models his own move after it, tapping into his strong force connection with animals to place thrawn in check mate, knowing that in order to succeed he might have to leave behind the home he's saving. how he knows he is just one piece in a delicate game, and he plays himself in the exact way and precise moment he is needed most - not because he disregards his own life but because he has made peace with the larger picture that is resisting the empire, that is the will of the force.
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Painted in You
Art shenanigans plus a little too much wine for the reader leads to a rare moment of romantic cheesiness with our favorite Chiss (or mine at least).
Thrawn x reader drabble | established relationship | fluff | little steamy towards the end
You giggled a little, the red and yellow paint surely had gotten in your hair by now. You held your wine as steadily as you could while spreading the myriad of colors out with your hands. Your minimal white clothes were already completely saturated with color both fresh and dried from previous finger painting sessions. The protective film crinkled a little as you moved back to admire your messy, but beautiful, work. The large canvas before you was almost done in all of its many chaotically vibrant hues.
"I guessed I'd find you here."
The smooth cadence of Thrawn's voice behind you made you jump a little and you turned with excitement to greet him. "I'm glad you did!" You gestured to your work. "What do you think? Would you be able to deduce how to defeat me in battle from this?"
Thrawn looked over your shoulder to the colorful canvas, lingering with his tall frame against the doorway. A small smile curved his lips as he tilted his head, considering. "Only if said battle had strict cleanliness guidelines."
You laughed brightly and his smile grew at the sound.
"You should join me! It's quite relaxing, gets rid of stress." You paused, glancing over his immaculate uniform pointedly. "Leave that outside though."
"Do I appear stressed?" Thrawn asked but began removing his outer uniform anyway until he was down to his black training clothes.
"You never appear to have much emotion...but I know better by now." You spoke softly as he approached you, his movements calculated and purposeful as ever as he took your paint-stained hand and placed a gentle kiss to the inside of your wrist.
"Do you indeed?"
"Mhm." You gave a little sound of contented happiness at the feeling of his warm skin beneath your fingers as you touched Thrawn's face. A streak of red paint smudged across his cheek from your touch and you couldn't help but giggle a little. "Oh stars, I am sorry it seems I forgot just how messy I am currently."
Thrawn touched the wet paint on his face and withdrew his hand, studying it upon his fingers, his glowing gaze fixated on you once more, his smile still serene. "No matter. I predict such is only the beginning."
You sipped your wine and motioned for him to sit with you upon the tarp, dragging your paints closer so they were with reach. "I've run out of canvas anyway." You looked him over, your lips twitching. "And I can't think of a lovelier substitute."
Thrawn acquiesced, he rarely denied you anything these days, since you'd become romantically involved with the Chiss. It was common for most to view Thrawn as emotionless and a little cold, but that was not the case when the two of you were alone together.
You reached forward and began lifting his black tank top up, giving him a questioning look. When he nodded, you fluidly removed the garment and tossed it to a safe paint-clear space on the floor. You paused a moment to take in the beauty of the man sitting next to you, the shades of his blue skin shifting under the fluorescent light of your studio.
Thrawn's eyes were upon your face, his expression reminded you of the phrase "the cat who got the cream" and heat flushed to your cheeks.
"Continue." Thrawn prompted silkily, his tone barely more than a purr.
You shivered a little, your own eyes meeting his briefly, knowing he could read you backwards and forwards like a well-loved book. Your fingers dipped into the cold paint, choosing a dark crimson shade at first because you couldn't resist the color matching Thrawn's eyes.
"Hold still." You instructed, a little needlessly because Thrawn was still as a statue while you moved closer. You could feel his breath on your face and had to clear your head with a little shake.
"You appear somewhat distracted, my darling." Thrawn chuckled at your blushing reaction and took your own hand, extending your arm and dipping into his own choice of paint. You glanced down, he'd chosen a crisp yellow.
"I'm perfectly cognizant, just had a little wine." You defended, narrowing your eyes at him in a teasing glare. His gaze however was focused on his own work now as he began spreading the paint over your bare arm in swirling patterns that almost tickled.
You in turn began your own body art at his shoulder, tracing the contours of his muscles with the deep red and filling the lines at your leisure with grey and white hues. The distracting sensation of Thrawn brushing against your skin sent pleasant chills down your spine and your movements faltered as you closed your eyes a moment to enjoy it.
"You are quite skilled." Thrawn murmured and you opened your eyes to see him appraising his shoulder and arm with a satisfied expression. "Your color theory is a rare talent."
You leaned forward, taking the opportunity to place a sneaky kiss to his jaw. Thrawn's hand instinctively snaked around your torso, under your shirt at your back and pulled you closer as he turned his mouth to meet yours. You felt the cold paint smear against your skin but heeded it not, Thrawn's lips were fiery against your skin as he trailed small kisses down to your throat.
Your hand found its way to the back of his neck, leaving a wake of red paint against his cerulean skin.
"As I predicted." Thrawn pecked a kiss to the tip of your nose before measuring your expression with pride. "Much more of a mess."
"Your brilliance knows no bounds." You snarked, yelping a little as Thrawn took his revenge by adding more cold paint to your abdomnen, though the heat of his hands soon overtook it.
He bent you backwards with the force of his sudden kiss, his movements swift and exact as he moved over your now prone body. Somewhere in the haze and tangled limbs the paint cups got knocked over and you could see the colors pooling around you in your periphery. Thrawn nibbled on your bottom lip and helped you remove your own shirt, the bare skin of your back pressing into the spilled paint.
Where his hands moved, color was left behind streaked against your skin. By the end of your extra-curricular activities Thrawn had to carry you to the shower in order to save the rest of your apartments from being ruined forever.
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