I Wish You'd Write A Fic In Which For Once Myles Is The One Who Gets To Give Jaster Grey Hair! I Feel

Do you have any Mirialan headcanons?

OH BOY DO I!!!

Ok… ok I can do this. I apologize, this is my first anon and I’m a little beside myself with excitement right now.

Ok, Mirialans.

Canon says they’re a near-human species, and other than some weird colored skin and tats, the only inhuman thing they have is their flexibility and agility. Their home world, Mirial, is cold and dry. Their geometric tattoos are usually done after some sort of personal achievement, which I personally read as a ‘right of passage’ sort of thing.

So, they come in yellow, green, and pink, and other than their skin color, their tattoos are their most notable attributes.

Personally, their tattoos always looked to me like the sort of patterns you’d see on a snake. I mean, I live in the American southwest, this is prime rattlesnake territory, and several of the tattoo designs you see in SWTOR look just like that. Yellow, and green are pretty common colors in snakes, and I dare you to find me an animal that better fits their ‘super flexible’ attribute.

So Mirialans are snake people.

More specifically, they are a reptomammalian species that resemble humans through convergent evolution.  As reptomammals, they possess both reptilian and mammalian characteristics. The way I saw it explained with Tauntauns, Mirialans are covered from head to toe in scales, and certain scales grow hair, say on their heads and faces.

Unlike humans, they don’t have body hair. Men can have beards, but that is usually due to having some human in their ancestry.

Their body can regulate its temperature, but not quite as well as a full mammal, so they generally run very cold compared to humans and they tend to suffer more in extreme heat.

Depending on what region of Mirial their ancestors come from, their scales can be thicker and rougher, or smaller and smooth. They do not have any natural patterning to their scales, but it is fairly common to have their palest scales on the chest and belly and the darkest at their spine. However, long ago their ancestors did have scale patterns, and so that is where their tattoo designs came from.

Having evolved on a cold planet, and being omnivorous, they needed to bring their prey down quickly to avoid expending precious heat and energy chasing it down, thus their ancestors were venomous. And unlike the scale patterns, they kept the venom. Their incisors are sharper than a human’s and they have a set of upper and lower fangs. Like snakes, their upper fangs are hollow and they have a pair of venom glands situated just beneath their cheekbones. They can open their mouths well beyond a human’s range of movement, and at full flexion, the muscles surrounding the glands squeeze the venom down and out the tips of the fangs. The venom itself is fatal to anything smaller than a medium sized child and is composed of a mix of neurotoxin and hemotoxin.

The neurotoxin causes localized paralysis, making it difficult for a victim to flee, and if it’s small enough, respiritory failure. The hemotoxin destroys red blood cells and makes clotting difficult, but mostly it’s there to cause pain and hopefully shock to the victim. Left untreated, a Mirialan bite can cause days of agony and permanent organ damage to an adult. Common poison antidotes can alleviate the paralysis and prevent any organ damage, but little can be done about the pain.

A general Mirialan antivenom exists and can stop the majority of the toxin, but only antivenom made from the offending Mirialan or related family members, will fully counteract it. It’s because of this that more responsible individuals carry personalized antivenom. Still, in this day and age of blasters and thermal detonators, you have to have majorly fucked up for a Mirialan to bite you.

They have good senses of smell, and average vision and hearing, but like snakes, they are able to ‘see’ in infrared. Its like someone turned up the color saturation on hot objects and they practically glow in the dark.

They’re from a largely matriarchal society, and if you want those sweet sweet tats, you need to complete a sort of coming of age feat. The feat in question is often tailor made to each individual to test their strength. Ex. A girl who likes hunting could be asked to go kill a certain tough critter, or guy who likes science could be asked to write a dissertation in his field. Basically something that was a challenge but not impossible

The facial tattoos were the ones they had to earn, but body tattoos were just for decoration, like any other species. Although it is common for those with facial tattoos to have that pattern repeated or expanded upon on the rest of their body.

Oh.

And a Mirialan man’s dick is held inside his body and only comes out when it’s party time.

Aaaaand I think that’s it. If I think of anything else major I’ll try to post it. 

Thank you so much for your question!

Do I love Black Paladin Lance?

Yes, I do. Very much.

And do I love these lions?

WHAT A QUESTION.

Y’all mind if I Fordo Concept Art?

Everyone on the Springhawk (and the rest of the ascendancy tbh) found Thrawn to be an anomaly. Because while he was extremely annoying, he was also very hot. But anytime someone asked Thrawn out (or propositioned ;) him), he always turned them down, sometimes politely sometimes not. Everyone eventually just came to the conclusion that Thrawn doesn't do romance.

Cut to twenty years later, a human shows up in the Ascendancy and introduces himself as Thrawn's husband and everyone loses their damn minds.

Because somehow Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo fucked off to the Empire, found some ridiculously attractive twink twenty years younger than him, married him and then sent him off to the Ascendancy for safe keeping.

yes I made a floor plan for Din’s new ship in oh the things we left behind, no I do not have any other reason except I fucking love floor plans thank u

it’s a kom'rk class fighter/transport - this thing:

base floor plan found here

Keep reading

Pride Dragons

Sonsational Creations on Etsy

They shit-talk each other during a shogi game

Oooh. Hm.

Eldra/Cody, (idk, Eldra got rescued by the Jedi and lived AU) Eldra heard there's a clone commander that likes to punch Grevious and spin kick droids. She'd really like a spar.

“He what?” Eldra asks, maybe a little too loudly for the quiet training salle.

Maul wrinkles his nose, like he doesn’t get into shouting matches with his not-padawan practically daily at this point. “He punches droids,” he says distastefully. “With his fists. And kicks them.”

“Droids?” Eldra presses, impressed, and tries to calculate if Obi-Wan and his battalion are currently close enough to reach. She saw Anakin the other day in the refectory, so—maybe they're even on Coruscant.

“Grievous, as well, I believe,” Maul says, and eyes her with the wariness of almost twelve years of familiarity at this point. “Eldra—”

Eldra smirks at him. “You spend so much time with Obi-Wan that you must know his commander,” she says, pointed. “Introduce me.”

“I do not spend time with Kenobi,” Maul says crossly, but when Eldra grabs his arm and hauls him forward, he only struggles a little, which is practically permission where Maul is concerned.

“Enough time to know is commander has punched Grievous,” Eldra says, and when Maul sighs like she’s the greatest trial in his life and redirects her to the left, towards another set of training salles, she laughs. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t think we would be friends.”

“A gross miscalculation on my part,” Maul says coolly, and shoves her through the next door, taking up residence in the opening with his arms crossed and an expression that says he’s been dragged here entirely against his will.

Eldra snorts, not about to let that stand, and hauls him into the room by the neck of his robes, ignoring the way he hisses at her in indignation. “Master Kenobi!” she calls across the room, to where Obi-Wan is flat on his back on the mats, his grandpadawan perched on his stomach and grinning with sharp teeth.

“Knight Kaitis,” Obi-Wan wheezes, head thumping back as he groans. “Maul.”

Eldra smiles at his grandpadawan, offering the little Togruta girl a hand up and slanting a surreptitious glance over at the clone with them. He’s leaning back against the wall, stripped down to his blacks, with his legs stretched out in front of him, and Anakin's captain is sitting with him, but—Eldra only has eyes for Obi-Wan’s commander. He looks like he practices kicking droids for fun, given those thighs, the muscling across his shoulders.

“I see you won this round,” she says, raising a brow at the Togruta girl, who grins back.

“I think seeing Knight Opress in the doorway distracted him,” she says cheerfully. “You’ve got good timing.”

Maul scoffs, like Eldra can't feel the flicker of something that’s definitely not annoyance that washes through him. “As expected from Master Kenobi,” he says disdainfully. “Beaten by an initiate—”

“I'm a padawan,” the girl says loudly, just as Obi-Wan pushes himself up and says with indignation, “Well, you try fighting her and see how well you fare, Maul—”

Eldra snickers, leaving them to it, and heads right for the commander, who’s watching his general with amusement and no small amount of judgement. Rex is the one who notices her coming, and his eyes widen as he elbows the other clone hard.

“Ow,” the commander says, jolting, and turns a scowl on him. “Rex, what—”

“You're Obi-Wan’s commander?” Eldra asks, stopping right in front of him. “The one who punched Grievous?”

The man blinks at her boots, then glances up, brow rising. “That’s me,” he says after a moment, bemused. “Commander Cody, sir.”

“I'm Eldra,” Eldra says decisively. “Spar with me. I want to fight you.”

Rex winces. Then again, he had to take two back to back missions with her and Anakin, so Eldra supposes he’s excused. They were dangerous missions. She didn’t even get to fight one single Sith, though, which was disappointing.

Cody's other brow rises to join the first, and he flicks another glance over her, assessing. Not sexual in the least, which is gratifying, because Eldra would hate to have to kick him in the balls so early on, but careful, which is even more so. Not writing her off because she’s a Twi’lek is a good start.

“I don’t exactly have a lightsaber,” Cody says, but he’s already pushing to his feet, so it’s very definitely not a no.

“I won't use mine, then,” Eldra says, and pulls off her outer robe, then her lightsaber, dropping them on Rex's other side. “Come, Commander Cody. If you win, I’ll treat you to dinner.”

Cody snorts, but there’s something like anticipation spreading across his face as he follows her towards the other side of the training salle. “And if you win?”

Eldra smirks at him. “You have to tell me exactly how you managed to punch Grievous in the face. And teach me how.”

Cody laughs, offering her his hand, and when Eldra clasps wrist with him, he squeezes firmly, clearly not afraid to break her. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Perfect,” Eldra says, and he promptly tries to flip her over his shoulder, but Eldra is expecting it, because it’s exactly what she would have done.

This, she decides, is going to be a very good relationship.

[On AO3]

Fox's Ultimate Bucket List update

Chapter 1 is now up on AO3, and chapter 6 is up on Patreon!

This is very true

i don’t think people really get how little feedback fanfic authors actually get? like the effort to reaction ratio is so abysmally skewed here that a fic nearly 50,000 words long takes an entire year to amass like. 16 comments. someone reblogged a fic i wrote at 4 am and tagged it with a 5-word compliment and i can’t stop thinking about it, not because it was so nice but because half the time you post a fic you’re going to hear nothing and anything feels like so much

fandom culture is so, so good about giving artists the credit they’re due, but we gotta start doing that for writers too. you’ve got no idea how much people put into their stories and get maybe a handful of reblogs and a dozen-odd kudos. that’s not enough. writing is an endurance sport and y’all need to start giving fic writers a reason to endure it and improve their craft. encourage writers like you encourage artists. reblog fics, leave tags, leave comments, acknowledge that these stories do not just spring into being for your entertainment. 

every single damn writer i know feels like half of their readers see them as a machine. that’s gotta change.