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miss-spooky-eyes · 4 years ago

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disarm me with a smile (or: Time to give Aric Jorgan an Aric Jorgasm)

So it’s been quite a while since I wrote anything and I had what you might call a very specific scenario in mind involving Aric Jorgan I wanted to write, but no suitable Trooper.

Then @sunsetofdoom very generously allowed me to borrow her Jerin, who turned out to be just what I needed and is, believe me, exactly what you need too (although you might not know it from this).

It also turned out to be Sunset’s birthday, so I really, really wanted to do a good job with her girl in order to pay tribute to Sunset, who in addition to being ridiculously talented is also unfailingly generous and magnificently filthy, a rare combination in these degenerate days, I don’t make the rules.

Happy belated birthday Sunset! and check out her Jerin content and, fuck, all her content if you haven’t already, and if you haven’t, are you even alive? no.

disarm me with a smile (Aric Jorgan/female Republic Trooper)

Jorgan just wants to get his paperwork finished, but as always when his CO has something else on her mind, there’s nothing for him to do but go down fighting

(No reports were completed during the making of this story.)

WARNINGS: filth; handjobs; ears; much fondling of ears; really an impossible amount of ear action; half-baked alien biology; femdom; risk of discovery

' - revealed an accuracy rating of 89.7%, a 0.6 improvement on last artillery exercise conducted on Tatooine (see report HV/AE/74-J). Subsequent to target elimination, squad was deployed in standard search formation covering a radius of -'

'You still at that?'

Jorgan slumped back in his chair as the words he'd painstakingly lined up in his head to complete the sentence broke ranks and dived for cover. One thing he hadn't missed about being an officer was the paperwork. 'Last one.'

He heard the slapping of her flimsy plastic sandals against the soles of her feet as she approached him, not that he needed that to tell him she'd just returned from the refresher; the smell of the ship's regulation-issue cleaning products and the herb-scented skin lotion she'd got on Alderaan had filled the air before she even stepped through the doorway. As she drew closer, he smelled clean skin, wet hair. 'Long shower,' he noted.

'CO's privilege.' She stopped behind him, and he felt the slightest vibration through the metal as she rested her fingertips on the chair back. 'Long report.'

'XO's privilege,' Aric returned dryly. He deliberately didn't turn to look at her; he knew what she usually wore when she got out of the shower - sweatpants and a sleeveless undershirt - and nothing about the sight of all that glistening green skin was going to help him finish these reports. 'You need the room?'

'Nah, you're good.' The CO's quarters came complete with a tiny antechamber designed to be used as an office, complete with chair, desk and wall-mounted terminal, all of which was generally wasted on Jerin, who preferred to write what passed for her reports on a datapad while lying on her back on the couch in the common area, long legs extended up the wall. Jorgan, on the other hand, found a stack of paperwork a nearly impossible proposition without a desk and a terminal equipped with a proper keypad, so he used the captain's office by permission; a working arrangement. One of many. 'You finish up.'

Despite her words, she didn't move away from the chair; her proximity was as difficult to ignore as the cloud of her fresh-from-the-refresher scent that still surrounded them both. Jorgan leaned forward, clearing his throat, and checked his notes.

'- 3 klicks from initial contact. Grid blocks 1-3 were covered in an average of 14 minutes, 36 seconds per block, dropping to 11 minutes 17 as terrain -'

'Kriff, you're thorough.' Jerin sounded amused, and the chair shifted slightly, as if she was now leaning on the back to look over his shoulder. 'Sure you don't want to include the ambient temperature? The phases of the moon?'

Interrupted, Aric lifted his fingers from the keyboard and glared at the terminal screen, in which he could faintly see Jerin's reflection. 'Problem with my reports, sir?'

'No, no problem.' The tone of her voice clearly hinted at an imminent 'but' and Aric waited, but after several seconds went by and she didn't speak, he figured she must have thought better of it and reached for the keyboard again -

'I'm just saying it was a routine training exercise, not the first three Xanitian Wars.'

Aric flexed his fingers, which hadn't quite touched the keys. 'So I should follow your example? What did your report to Garza after Tatooine say? "They died, we didn't. Best wishes, Captain Porter"?'

He saw a flicker of movement reflected in the terminal screen as she laughed. 'Garza said it was my best report ever.'

Mainly because Dorne wrote the one that actually got sent, and every one after that. Aric sighed. 'You going to stand there all night?'

He felt the chair shift slightly as she shrugged. 'Depends.'

'On?'

'On how long it takes you to finish your magnum opus.'

'Why? There something you want me to do afterwards?' Sufficiently distracted to turn away from the screen and twist to look back at her, Aric realised a split second later he'd done exactly what she was hoping he would, because she was smirking down at him in a very particular way, and the picture she made - bare arms braced on the back of the chair in a way that not so subtly highlighted her muscles, freshly-lotioned green skin gleaming like satin, wet hair slicked back and shining - was -

... was ...

.... was not conducive to finishing a report on Havoc Squad training exercises.

She shrugged, and he didn't need Cathar vision to notice the way her chest moved underneath that thin undershirt when she did. 'Play your cards right, Lieutenant,' she said, and the tone of her voice told Aric clearly that this battle was already lost, and the only thing left was to fight a valiant rearguard action and hope to go down with honour.

He had to swallow twice before he could say, 'Door's open.'

She didn't even glance back. 'Nobody's out there.'

There might be nobody in the common area now - for once - but anybody could wander in at any moment, could hear a noise from the captain's office, could walk curiously to the open door and see ... 'We shouldn't,' he mumbled, lowering his gaze, realizing as he said it that he sounded like some cornered ingenue in a holodrama.

'Shouldn't what?' She leaned down, resting her elbows on the back of her chair, her face just inches from his, and raised her eyebrows. 'There something you're planning to do to me, Lieutenant?'

That did it; he felt the heat, the tingle ... He turned back hastily to face the terminal, trying to hide it, although he knew it was a futile gesture.

It was; he heard her crow with delighted laughter, and saw the movement reflected in the terminal screen as she raised a hand to muffle it. 'Why, Lieutenant,' she said, lowering her hand to her chest in fake shock. 'Did I do that? Is that for me?'

He tried not to squirm in the narrow chair, tried to resist the impulse to hunch over and attempt to hide it. 'You know it is,' he growled.

'Oh, don't be shy.' He felt her fingertips graze the back of his neck, drifting upwards ... 'You know I love to see them wiggle.'

The tingling intensified, and Aric jerked irritably at her touch. Damn the woman! He'd served with COs, with entire squads who never found out what Cathar ears did when their owners got embarrassed. But two days on the same ship with this Coruscant back-slum loud-mouth and she'd spotted it ... and never forgotten about it.

It was ridiculous. He'd long ago gotten used to the idea that non-furred humanoids like humans and Mirialans had a tendency to find the physiology of furred species like his own ... intriguing; that they had a regrettable habit of finding perfectly normal behaviours and responses cute, even of comparing them to those exhibited by their domesticated animals. On the whole, he thought Cathar came off better than Bothans and Wookies, and anybody who had ever made jokes in his presence about scratching posts and hairballs had quickly seen, or rather been shown, the error of their ways.

But if Jerin was better at something than noticing things you'd rather she didn't, it was making you like her so much you didn't mind. She disarmed people as easily as she did bombs.

Even Garza. Even Fuse. Even Dorne.

Her fingertips were still just touching the back of his neck, just below the base of his skull, just resting there as if she'd forgotten about them.

Even him.

He could still feel her delighted gaze on his twitching ears. He sat up straight, resisting the urge to tilt his head and brush each ear against his shoulder to stop the tingling. Personally he didn't see what the big deal was; at least ears that wriggled slightly as a social signifier were subtle, not like furless faces that bloomed with blood. He cleared his throat in what he hoped was a dignified fashion. 'I'd better finish this report.'

'Mmmm, yeah, you'd better.' She was still leaning on her elbows on the back of the chair, a casual pose; anyone who looked in through the doorway would think that she was just reading the terminal screen over his shoulder, perhaps offering him some constructive advice on his report, like a good CO.

Anyone who looked in through the doorway wouldn't see the fingers still positioned at the back of his neck, the tips just grazing the fur as he breathed.

'Wouldn't want to waste the whole night on it, after all,' she added.

Concentrate. Aric squared his shoulders, extended his arms, positioned his own fingers above the keyboard.

'- terrain became smoother -'

'Smoother' was a dangerous word right now; he highlighted and deleted.

'- more easily navigable by patrols on foot.'

Garza, or whoever would be reading this, knew that they would have been on foot.

He was almost sure that Jerin's fingertips were higher up his neck than they had been before.

He highlighted and deleted.

'- as terrain became less rocky. After approximately forty-nine minutes, squad Besh -'

'You sure it was forty-nine? Not forty-eight? Not fifty-one?' Jerin punctuated each number with a touch, her index and middle fingers walking slowly across his neck towards his right ear. 'Did we synchronise chronometers?'

'We did.' He cleared his throat again, trying unsuccessfully to smooth the roughness from it as her fingers continued their deliberate progress. 'I covered that already.'

'You did? Where?' She straightened up, leaning further over the back of the chair to see the monitor screen better, and the curve of her breast not-so-accidentally grazed his cheek, and he knew that she could feel his pulse jump through his fur where her fingertips had come to rest just below his ear.

'Right there,' he said, working to keep his tone even. He pointed at the relevant words on the screen.

'My mistake.' She leaned back, with another oh-so-accidental brush of her breast against his neck. 'Carry on, soldier.'

Right. Reports. Training exercises. Aric blinked and refocused on the screen, trying to remember what he'd been going to write.

'- squad Besh reported signs of enemy passage, bearing 213.75 degrees.'

Her fingers were still resting just below his ear, behind the angle of his jaw, drifting in the tiniest of circles over the tips of his fur as they both breathed.

'Squad Aurek, designated C&C for this exercise, analysed topographical data and recomended -'

'You missed an "m" there,' Jerin pointed out, bringing her hand up to point at the screen.

The backs of her fingers just brushed the rim of his ear as she did so, and he jolted in his chair, twisting involuntarily to look back and up at her.

She met his glare with eyes of melting innocence. 'Something wrong?'

For a second, he let himself picture himself reaching up, grabbing a handful of her undershirt and twisting to pull her down to his level, a kiss so hard they'd both break away gasping for breath; the darkening skin on her face and neck as the blood started to pound, her lips swollen, eyes bright ...

He'd be damned if he let her win that easily. 'No, sir.' He turned back to face the terminal.

'Better carry on with your report then, Lieutenant.' Her hands brushed lightly along both of his shoulders, idly picking off a piece of lint here, deftly adjusting his collar there. 'We don't have all night.'

He squared his jaw and reached for the keyboard again.

Her hands rested softly one on each shoulder, and he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material of his shirt. 'Or maybe we do.'

Aric highlighted, deleted, typed: '- recommended both squads circle round to intercept the enemy on their projected path -'

A finger trailed up the right side of his neck.

'- at canyon mouth designated Choke Point One -'

Despite himself, his fingers faltered on the keys as the questing finger approached the place where it had rested before, and he breathed in as it trailed towards his ear. But it swerved away before it reached the lobe, instead continuing on its slow path upwards, following the curve of his ear without touching it, up and over and down towards his cheek.

'- located at coordinates -'

The fingertip reversed its course, following the same path back, the softest skim against his fur as she traced the shape of his ear without touching it. All the way back down to just below the lobe and then up again.

Coordinates. He had them written down. In his notes. Somewhere. He reached blindly for his datapad.

As Jerin's finger trailed up and down, it left a line of tingling warmth in its wake, and his ear ... She hadn't even touched his ear and already it was warm, throbbing in a distant yet urgent tandem with the beating of his heart.

The problem, he thought dizzily as he paged unseeing through his notes, was evolution. Cathar ears didn't just signal embarrassment; they registered and communicated all different types of emotions and social cues. Much of what humans and many other humanoids communicated through their mouths - smiles, frowns, smirks, winces - was in a Cathar visible instead in tiny shifts and motions to which other species tended to be oblivious. And all of that subtle movement required many, many tiny muscles ... a tracery of many, many infinitesimal blood vessels to fill and throb ... hundreds upon thousands of nerve endings.

Well, that was one problem. The other was that the woman standing behind him was pure evil.

She would have to touch his ear soon, if only by accident. She would have to ...

Then he felt the lightest stroke across the lobe of his other ear, and jerked, caught completely off guard. The datapad clattered to the desk.

Pure. Damn. Evil.

'Better pick that up,' she suggested helpfully, her fingertip stroking across his earlobe again.

Automatically, with fingers that felt like they no longer belonged to him, he picked up the datapad again.

'You were looking up coordinates,' she prompted him.

Coordinates. He made an effort, focused, resolving the blur of shapes to green text on a black background. Numbers. He was looking for numbers.

Then both those fingertips stroked as one up the outside of both ears, and everything blurred again.

'Lieutenant?'

They followed the curves and indentations up to the point of his ears, and then down.

'Seems like you've stopped writing, Lieutenant.'

And then they slipped as one just half a centimeter inside, and started to climb again, this time tracing the inner surface of that soft ridge, up and over and down again.

He arched in his chair as she stroked him, the lightest, most abominably teasing brush of skin against fur, and the thought that came to mind was: It wasn't fair. It really, truly wasn't right that a woman of her size and strength, who threw punches the way other people threw grenades, should have hands like this.

Bomb-defusing hands. That's where this all started; that grimy Port Raga hellhole, the senator whining in his chair, the air thick with sirens and smoke and Jerin's hands, disconnecting sensors, rewiring gauges, as if there was all the time in the world. He'd watched, mesmerised, as she delicately picked apart the instruments of fiery death, and despite being one touch too heavy or too lingering away from the kind of pointless end he'd always hoped against hope he would avoid, all he could think about was those same fingers, grease-blackened, smelling of acrid smoke, on him.

After that it had been just a matter of time before she found him in the armoury one day and gave him what no shame could stop him from wanting, peeling away his armour piece by piece until she could run her hands all over his bare torso, touching and caressing him until he was panting, open-mouthed, then spinning him around and pinning him to the wall, grinding her hips against his from behind with such unmistakable promise that he came just like that, came inside his pants, without her ever even laying a finger on him below the waist.

'You'll never make captain at this rate, Lieutenant.'

She was using her thumbs now, a delicate pressure against the back of his earlobes as those fingers stroked again and again around the rim of his ear, each time lingering a little longer, straying a little further towards the inner folds and ridges.

Because she knew, knew what nobody else had ever looked at him and seen, what he'd rather die than let Dorne or Vik or any of the rest of them see; that day in, day out, he wore thirty-five kilos of reinforced durasteel, and underneath it what he really wanted was to be ... touched. Not to fuck, or even to be fucked, although both had their place. To be touched. Caressed. Stroked.

Petted.

Fingertips were circling the inner ridges of his ears now. He arched again, pressing his head back against her, no longer caring if she saw how much she was affecting him. She'd known from the beginning. From before the start.

The chair legs squealed on the floor, metal against metal, as he nudged it backwards, away from the desk. Creating space, so she could reach down and ...

Not that she would, unless and until he asked for it.

'Giving up already?' The question was a taunt, breathed out against one ear, stirring the fine hairs inside. Aric shuddered, fingers flexing and kneading at empty air, as he felt her move behind him to whisper the next question across the burning membranes of the other ear. 'On your reports, that is?'

The wet flick of her tongue across his earlobe.

'What happened to being thorough, Lieutenant?'

The softest tug of teeth.

'Unless there's something you care about more?'

His hand twitched involuntarily up towards hers before he could stop it. Her laugh stirred every strand of fur across his ear, made them sing.

'Better undo those pants before you make a mess of them.

Fumbling with numb fingers, he unfastened, yanked his pants open, hissing underneath his breath as his dick sprang free, hard and twitching and exposed.

She switched sides again, fondling fingers replacing lips and breath on his right ear, tongue snaking up and around and into his right.

Aric's dick throbbed, a pulse so powerful it was almost painful. His hand twitched upwards again -

Footsteps.

They froze as one, listening.

Someone was walking into the common area; Yuun or Dorne, he thought, or maybe even Vik; the big Weequay moved with a softness that belied his size, and it was hard to tell through the pounding of blood in his tortured ears.

The door was open. He tried to think, through the throbbing and the pounding and the tickle of breath stirring the fur on his ear. If whoever it was was just passing through the common area to get from one side of the ship to the other, they would have no reason to look through the open doorway, or at least would only take a casual glance that would reveal little but the captain's back.

If they were there to grab a snack, though, or to slump in the seating area that was just outside the door ...

He might be the one with his dick out, but she had more to lose, they both understood that; a blind eye might be turned to a CO sleeping with their subordinate as long as a certain level of discretion was observed, but this would hardly be considered discreet by any standards, let alone General Garza's. If whoever was out there saw. If they chose to report.

Even if they didn't report ... they'd know.

The footsteps grew a little louder, paused, as if whoever it was had stopped by the battered table, maybe to inspect a datapad left lying there, trying to decide whether the latest holodrama was worth sitting down and watching.

She was the CO. She would be the one to lose her command. And yet this was part of the equation for her, in a way he didn't quite understand. The open door was for her, not him; he felt no thrill from the possibility of discovery; there was nothing more likely to make his hard-on shrivel up and disappear than the thought of Tanno Vik, for example, knowing anything, ever, about what he and the captain did.

Jerin, though. He didn't understand why, but he understood that she was playing with the fears at the ragged fringe of her existence, playing with the possibility of it all unravelling, as much as she was playing with him.

Pathetically, that knowledge almost made him jealous.

Pressed together like this, his head flush against her chest, he could almost feel her heart beating, hear her trying not to breathe. He listened with her to the soft thunk as whoever it was put something down on the table, listened to the noises as they walked across the common area to the door on the other side, listened to the footsteps receding down the hall until they died away.

The captain let out the breath she'd been holding, and he could almost swear he felt each individual strand of fur shiver as it passed.

'Where were we?' The whisper was hot against the nape of his neck as she moved her head back from his left side to his right. He felt her lips fasten delicately around the crest of his ear, forming a tight, wet seal, and the touch of her tongue as it toyed with the pointed tip.

Damn dignity, kriff going down fighting, he couldn't take it any more. His hand seized hers and wrenched it downwards.

The softness of her breasts surrounded his head and neck as his grip on her hand yanked her forward, but neither they nor the drumming of the blood in his ears could muffle the little satisfied snicker she gave as he slapped her hand against his shaft and wrapped their fingers around it.

One thing he could say for his captain; she was merciful, once the conquest was complete. He let his hand fall away as hers began to move, firm strokes, her grip hot and hard and a little too dry, smoothing his fur on the downstroke only to rough it up once more. He'd given in, accepted defeat, and now all he had to do was wait in blind, throbbing anticipation for her to end it. He turned his head, nuzzling into her breasts, reaching back blindly for a handful of ass, thigh, anything he could dig his fingers into and squeeze as she worked him, worked him, worked him.

Jerin shifted her weight, brought her other hand around, enfolding him more tightly as she took hold of him with both hands, one circling tightly at the base of his shaft while the other twisted and stroked near the head. That's all it took, a few breathless, straining seconds of her hands on him and then everything that had been gathering in him ignited in white fire and he found himself thrusting wildly, desperately, as best as he could up into her fist.

She knew to release her grip on his shaft as the barbs sprang up, the teeth that were supposed to lock him into place within his mate until he was done spilling his seed, and her freed hand came up to stroke his face, cradling it against her breast as her other hand coaxed everything from him, circling and twisting to catch the pearly strands until he was spent, left trembling and boneless and clinging against her.

She stroked his face gently, murmuring things he registered only as waves of tenderness breaking against his twitching ears, as she brought her hand up in front of his face, his cum striping her green skin.

And without needing to be told, Aric bent his head to her hand and began to lick it clean, a purr rising from deep within his chest.

#swtor #fic #I wrote a thing #aric jorgan is also here #aric jorgan #sergeant grumpy cat #earogenous zones #I'm sorry

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swtor-addicted · 6 years ago

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#Swtor #trooper #grumpy space cat #aric jorgan #Zaria Onasi #Coruscant #I havent gotten very far on her #But thats because Im going on vacation #On it as I speak #This is not the queue you are looking for

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sullustangin · 2 years ago

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Who are your 3 least favorite Swtor companions and why?

Thanks for asking!!!

1. Skadge. There’s nothing redeemable about him or interesting. I had some reservations about Gault bullying his way onto my squad, but at least he’s funny and has his charms as a con artist. There’s really nothing that redeems Skadge. I mean, even Tanno Vik loves the Republic and explosives .... even though he does like to commit warcrimes and make profits. There’s some discernible moral compass, good or bad. With Skadge? Nope, stupid evil is the alignment there seemingly. Also, BH should have had a DS companion WAY earlier in the game if that was the main purpose of Skadge. I mean, Gault is a profit chaser which CAN be DS, but at the same time, he draws the line at killing customers. Mako? LS. Blizz? LS. Torian? Mando, so neutral, mostly.

2. SCORPIO. My smug is one of those droids rights people -- if they have developed enough to be their own person, why not recognize them as sentients? And the she met SCORPIO. THis bitch. There is nothing likeable about this character, and I actually like C2, D4, and 2V. Again, she also came in late to the IA’s crew with not a whole hell of a lot of backstory -- lot of potential, which I suppose she lived up to, but damn if she didn’t do it in a way that pissed everyone and God off. My cinnamon roll droids rights person smuggler spaced her ass on Iokath. Unlike Skadge, you can’t space her until her plot armor says so, so in some ways, she’s worse than Skadge.

3. Aric Jorgan and/or Kaliyo. But with caveats!!

So I first encountered these two as a non-trooper, non-IA. It was not until I played the Trooper story that I figured out why people liked Grumpy Cat. Now I totally get it! But if you’re a non-trooper player, he can grate, big time. Whenever a character is introduced in KotFE/KotET, good writing can demonstrate their assets and their foibles in a scene or two. As he’s written in KotFE, unless you are a trooper, you don’t get why people could ever like Aric. He can disobey you and get his own unit killed, mostly because he doesn’t like/trust Kaliyo. That said Kaliyo is a 17-year-old edgelord that never fully grew past that stage. She’s a DS companion for the IA early on, and I get that function. But this lady’s got ISSUES as a sociopath who truly does not care about other people.

Special mention to Broonmark, who nobody ever seems to remember as the 5th member of the SW crew. Even Xalek gets more coverage by fandom than this guy. (Skadge does too, but for all the wrong/right reasons)

#swtor #thanks for asking!#askbox #death to skadge

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cinlat · 2 years ago

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I call this one “Are you out of your fucking mind?!?”

It gets asked a lot.

#cinlat plays swtor #swtor #fynta wolfe #Mandalorian #aric jorgan #cathar #disaster girl #grumpy space cat

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queen-scribbles · 3 years ago

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Have I mentioned that KotET ch 4/5 have some of my favorite Jorgan romance content? 😁😁 Bc KotET ch 4/5 have some of my favorite Jorgan romance content

#queen in space #aric jorgan #tjera #i love the grumpy space cat husband SO DAMN MUCH

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keirangoldenwatch · 4 years ago

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WIP Wednesday

It's that time of week again! When I put a chunk of a chapter here to keep my brain focused on my fics instead of whatever-the-fuck-else I've got on it. Whee.

Onward!

-----

“We were gone for thirty minutes,” Rezhek said wearily, speaking up so her voice carried down the hall. The taller of the two silhouettes hesitated by a couple of steps. “I’m going to assume that wasn’t enough time to get into more trouble, but please, feel free to prove me wrong.”

“No trouble here, General Grumpy! It was just some harmless shopping!” Tivvea cheerfully replied. She didn’t break her stride until she was in detailed range of Rezhek’s sight, or more accurately close enough to go in for another arm-around-the-shoulder lean. Rezhek dodged.

Tivvea snorted and used the missed momentum to turn on her heel, facing the pair of soldiers with a big smile. “Clothes shopping, specifically! I don’t know about some of you, but some of us like to wear stuff that isn’t several tons of metal,” she met the glower Aric gave her with absolute shamelessness, “Not that you don’t rock it! Corso, get over where Rez can actually see you. I need to show you off.”

Corso was already darker around the cheeks when he, too, stepped into Rezhek’s field of vision. That wasn’t the only deviation from his standard appearance, though--then again, his blush was becoming more common on his face than not, thanks to somebody. The heavy Mantellian armor he’d sported since they’d met had been replaced with a set that was a bit more form fitting than the former’s blocky, simple design, and atop it was a long, leather duster with that accentuated his shoulders and arms. It certainly looked more fashionable, but Rezhek wasn’t much of a judge on that aspect of clothing. Rather, she had to wonder how practical a coat that long might really be in a firefight, or if some of the leather straps on the chestpiece and legs were actually doing anything functional or if they were just there to make it look “pretty”. Tivvea extended her arms towards him and did a little jazz-hands gesture.

“Ta-daah! Living proof that everyone looks better in leather.” She sounded so proud of herself. Corso raised his hand to rub at the back of his neck. Tivvea either missed or ignored his embarrassment, because when nobody gave her the immediate response she wanted, she pouted and closed the distance between herself and Corso and started pulling and preening at the coat. “Pssh. All of you wouldn’t know fashion if it shot you in the ‘cargo hold’.”

“The coat doesn’t look very practical,” Aric said what Rezhek was thinking, and about as bluntly.

Tivvea let out a huff of hot air. “It’s armored! And it’s got a lot of compartments for holding extra weapons or medikits or kark like that. Besides,” she reached up and adjusted the heavy collar around Corso’s neck, which put her fingers right near his jaw. Rezhek kept the twitch of her lips still when his face grew darker from that. “My first mate has to look the part, you know? Mercenary armor just isn’t going to cut it when you’re flying on a ship as classy as mine. You’ve gotta look the part! And that part has to be as hot as me. So it’s a high bar. But he pulls it off!”

Corso mumbled something that Rezhek thought might have been “You think I’m...?”, before he trailed off. He was grinning like a fool behind the coat’s collar.

Rezhek sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “Alright, yes, fine, it looks good on him. I’m sure it’s very color coordinated as well.” Tivvea’s grin came back and she nodded. Corso just took the compliment with a weak chuckle. “But we have work to do. One of Tavus’ team was spotted on Taris.”

“Taris?” Tivvea’s grin weakened. “Oh, great. I’ve always wanted to visit a planet completely destroyed by orbital bombardment. So many smuggling opportunities there.” The sarcasm was strong with that line.

“It’s not about your smuggling,” Aric gave a sharp shake of his head, “We got permission to make your ship Havoc Squad’s official charter. So you’re going to go where we need you to, when we need you to. Understood?”

“That comes with pay, right? Because Risha’s plan was kind of lacking in the ‘steady income until the big pay-off’ department, but I could find other ways.”

“Captain...” Corso started, somewhere between a warning and imploring her not to poke the Cathar.

“The Republic will compensate you, if you keep your end of the deal.” Rezhek interjected, before Tivvea could get the rise out of Aric that she was digging for. Tivvea stuck her tongue out at her, but Corso mouthed a word of thanks over her head. Aric’s scowl lessened slightly. “They’ll also provide us with requisitions. Food, ammunition, medical supplies, etcetera. So you get paid, and you get free supplies.”

Tivvea drew back her tongue and cupped her pointy chin in her hand, acting contemplative. “I do like ‘free’ stuff.”

“You’d also get to shoot Imps, assuming you still like to do that.” Aric added, entirely deadpan. Rezhek failed to catch the small snort that triggered.

“I would have done that anyway, but--!” Tivvea stuck the hand holding her chin out towards them, her thumb up and her smile back to it’s full beam. “Let’s karking go! And you guys remember that I already agreed to this, like, earlier today, right? My memory’s not that bad.”

“You could have changed your mind,” Corso said with a slight grin, “Or grown some sympathy for the Empire in the last half hour.”

Tivvea grimaced back at him. “I’d ask you to shoot me if that ever happened. But, like, in the knee or something. Even if I went crazy I’d want to still look good.”

#my writing #swtor #swtor fic #Surprisingly Good Judge of Character #wip wednesday #corso riggs #aric jorgan #aric 'grumpy cat' jorgan #rezhek iaseed #tivvea easdel

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glitchy-npc · 7 years ago

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Major Aric Jorgan.

#swtor #aric jorgan #grumpy cat man #his sassing scorpio gives me life #halorin forr #lana beniko #begeren colony

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miss-spooky-eyes · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Republic Trooper/Aric Jorgan/Elara Dorne, Elara Dorne/Female Republic Trooper Characters: Female Republic Trooper, Aric Jorgan, Elara Dorne Additional Tags: Dubious Consent, Threesome - F/F/M, Alien Biology, Cathar dick, this breaks every reg in the book and Elara knows it, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Vaginal Fingering, Restraints, all Imperials have a non-human kink I don't make the rules, awkward aftercare, Elara Dorne deserves a thorough railing, furry penises, Oral Sex, a seriously thorough railing, when sexy scenarios take on a hideous life of their own, Facials, absolute filth, No Apologies, I'm so sorry, did you read the tag that said DUBIOUS CONSENT? OK good Summary:

What are two Republic soldiers to do with a pretty, captured Imperial, all helpless and at their mercy?

(Or: Havoc Squad’s vacations are almost as exciting as their missions)

Hey, it’s that 11,000 words of Havoc Squad threesome porn that absolutely nobody asked for.

Er ... I really lost the run of myself on this one, and it is Not My Best: It’s shallow, contrived, uses one of my least favourite smut tropes, etc. But I’m still posting it because I spent a lot of time writing it and because it contains the extremely thorough, lovingly-detailed railing which Elara Dorne, if you ask me, deserves.

Big thanks to @verbose-vespertine for her generous support & feedback!

#swtor #fic #I wrote a thing #oc: kith zenna #elara dorne #aric jorgan #sergeant grumpy cat #republic trooper #havoc squad

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sirloozelite · 3 years ago

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SWTOR OC Character Masterlist Thingy

Since I’ve got a few characters on this damn game now, I figured I’d do a quick-ish masterlist for the rare occasion someone wants to ask a question or know more about them. Feel free if you do. Probably wasting my time doing this, but oh well. :)

1. The Sixteenth Brother/Darth Imperius - Sith Inquisitor

Species: Zabrak

Titles: Commander of the Eternal Alliance, Dark Councillor

Alignment: Light Side Tier V/Chaotic Good

Relationships: Married to Ashara Zavros

Best Friend: Lana Beniko

Fun fact: There is reason to believe that Darth Imperius is a time traveler from a distant future. No one believes him when he tells that story though, not even Ashara.

2. Remialia Vane (Remi) - Republic Smuggler

Species: Togruta

Titles: Captain, Republic Privateer, Empress of the Eternal Alliance

Alignment: Dark Side Tier V/Chaotic Neutral

Relationships: Married to Lana Beniko

Best Friend: Bowdaar

Fun fact: Remi has a nasty tendency to trip on her own cape. Don’t ask her about the time on Odessen when she ended up face first into a river because of it. Seriously... she will shoot you for asking!

3. Izulgubo (Izul) - Jedi Consular

Species: Twi’lek

Titles: Jedi Master, Jedi Council Member, Barsen'thor

Alignment: Light Side Tier V/Lawful Good

Relationships: No romantic relationships... currently

Best Friend: Qyzen Fess

Fun fact: After the events of the ‘Children of the Emperor’ and the ‘First Son’, Izul has developed extreme PTSD and paranoia regarding enemies within both the Jedi and Republic’s ranks. Upon hearing about the Jedi Knight companion Kira Carsen’s true origins, Izul had to forcibly stop herself from attacking the Jedi.

4. Xipenyr - Sith Warrior

Species: Sith Pureblood

Titles: Sith Lord, The Emperor's Wrath

Alignment: Neutral Force Alignment/True Neutral

Relationships: Married to Malavai Quinn

Best Friend: Vette

Fun fact: Xipenyr isn’t like most Sith. She’s not needlessly cruel, and believes that everyone, even Jedi, have a right to exist. That said, if you get in her way, or refuse her offers of surrender, you die.

Also, for the love of god, do not give her a nickname, or shorten her name down. The suffering she will inflict on you for doing so will be beyond simple torture.

5. Tirzi Lowk - Republic Trooper

Species: Mirialan

Titles: Major of Havoc Squad

Alignment: Neutral Force Alignment/Lawful Neutral

Relationships: Engaged to Elara Dorne.

Best Friend: Aric Jorgan.

Fun fact: At the age of 14, an Imperial squad led by a Sith Lord ransacked and murdered the village where Tirzi grew up. In the chaos, all of Tirzi's family was killed before his eyes, and he was left as the sole survivor of the attack. Upon being found by a Republic rescue team days later, Tirzi joined the military to exact revenge on the Empire for taking his family away. Privately however, his true goal remains to track down the Sith that killed his family and end him. Said Sith Lord is known only by the name 'Darth Marr'.

6. Jho'neeing'lish - Imperial Agent

Species: Unknown

Titles: Cipher Nine

Alignment: Dark Side Tier II/Lawful Evil

Relationships: None. (ALERT: There are reports of Jho’neeing’lish using flirtation as a weapon. If he uses this on you, chances are he is planning on killing you!)

Best Friend: SCORPIO

Fun fact: There is much mystery around the true identity of Jho'neeing'lish. His name suggests Chiss origin, but no one is really sure as to if he is a Chiss or not. There are even some rumours of him being a cyborg, or worse. Only Keeper has ever seen him without his helmet. Whatever the truth, one thing is certain. Where Cipher Nine goes, death follows.

7. Ikhohr Nahziig - Bounty Hunter

Species: Cathar

Titles: Champion of the Great Hunt, ‘Grumpy Bastard’ by his crew.

Alignment: Dark Side Tier I/ Neutral Evil

Relationships: None

Best Friend: Gault Rennow

Fun fact: Whilst outwardly, Ikhohr might be the dictionary definition of a ‘grumpy cat’, in reality he is nothing but a big teddy bear at heart, especially when it comes to his crew. Don’t mistake his career as a Bounty Hunter for lesser intelligence. Ikhohr is fully aware of the history concerning Cathar and Mandalorians, and for that reason alone he refused the offer to join from ‘Mandalore the Crybaby’ as he likes to call him.

8. Anoshlaah Zel - Jedi Knight

Species: Togruta

Titles: Jedi Knight, Togruta Huntress

Alignment: Light Side Tier I/Neutral Good

Relationships: Rumoured numerous flings. No serious relationships.

Best Friend: T7-01

Fun fact: Despite being a Jedi Knight, Anoshlaah very heavily embraces her Togruta cultural heritage, both in her outfit of choice and by earning the title of ‘Huntress’ from her people for her proclivity in hunting. On one such hunting trip, Anoshlaah was able to train an Acklay to let her ride it. Said beast is used as her personal mount, much to the terror of many Jedi Padawan’s on Tython. Despite this, she believes in the Jedi Order and does her best to follow the code... though she is lax when it comes to attachment rules, both for others and herself.

#swtor #SWTOR OC #sixteenth brother #remialia vane #izulgubo #xipenyr #tirzi lowk #jho'neeing'lish #ikhohr nahziig #anoshlaah zel

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